So it seems I've been presented a challenge from my computer, a MacBook. As of last night at about 7 p.m., my "w," "2," "tab" and "esc" keys stopped responding to my gentle touch."But, Marissa, you just typed the letter double-u and the numero dos in that last sentence!"
That's because I copied and pasted those. I may be an idiot, but I'm fairly e-savvy.
Under normal circumstances, I might simply shrug my burdened shoulders and call it a day, but since I promised to blog after my horrendous stab at a vlog yesterday, I feel obligated to type an online essay using the gosh darn double-u or not.
And so here I go...sans the stupid double-u...
Although this is nothing not old, I nearly got ran over coming home from laboring at the sex shop a couple of nights ago. In a fissure of fate, though, I hadn't done anything to violate any traffic rules. That's right, I rode completely in the confines of everyone's road rights. I stuck near the curb in the righthand lane and had a flashing red bike light attached to my bag, so although the sun had set, my presence on the street could not be missed. And like I usually do to leave the douchiest neighborhood in DC that I'll simply refer to as "George," I rode dirty at a vigorous pace. In summary, there appeared to be no good reason to explain the activity that happened next.
Mid-ride on a surprisingly empty M Street (probably due to the inclement elements), a cab driver in a minivan decided to nearly snuff me out. He could have passed me in one of the duet of deserted left lanes beside me, but I guess it must have seemed more fun at the time to instead pass me IN MY LANE leaving less than a foot of space on my left side.
In short, the move made absolutely no sense. DC cab drivers are like a glass of $9 scrunchies -- that is, completely confounding, ruthlessly gnarly and, most of all, just plain stupid.
Speaking of a glass of $9 scrunchies, I'm quite surprised that my recent find in Club Monaco inspired just a duo of the comments yesterday. And one occurred only to insult my flyover country upbringing. Fair enough. I sported the hell out of a scrunchie in my day. That is, in 1990. My point is, it's nearly dos decades later. I get that fashion trends come and go and come again, but the scrunchie? Really? Am I the only one outraged by the idea of the scrunchie becoming a legitimate hair accessory again? Especially at $9 a pop?
I mean. This is shambles.
Let's not repeat our mistakes. Please feel my ire. Don't make me touch you again...
10 comments:
1. What if a non-trivial proportion of your audience wants to be touched?
2. Clearly your computer is telling you that you must do more vlogs. (It's a sign!)
- What in the world is a "Club Monaco"? I don't think I really want to know the answer.
- I went back and watched the vlog. Granted, it was possibly the first vlog I've ever watched, but it was solid. Consider making them an (ir)regular feature.
- I'm almost into double digits for the number of times in the past six weeks when cycling that passing cars cut in closer to me.
Someone asked me a couple weeks ago why I keep my u-lock on my bike still. This here's the reason. When you get cut off like this, the u makes a handy response on a fender. And then you ride away into the rainy sunset.
ben--I hope you're touched by my blog ever day.
jfo--An overpriced women's business casual chain. Think a higher class Banana Republic...BUT WITH SCRUNCHES. WACK.
OH! Look at that! I CAN TYPE "W" AGAIN!
(With the aid of a keyboard plugged into my laptop...ghetto.)
foggy--So true. I've definitely waved my U-lock menacingly before. Never actually went for the hit though. I don't know if I'm that coordinated...
Marissa - Very touching. :p
Jfo - Club Monaco isn't just for women. There's men's stuff there too -- the chain came from downtown Toronto in the mid-1980s, actually. (I grew up with that stuff.) Never knew about the scrunches, though...
You're the funniest girl within city boundaries. Scrunchies are the anti-Christ of fashion, almost as bad a crocs, but I gotta say, your exposure to such malevolent adornment is your own fault. What impossible evil magnet lured you into Club Monaco?
Also, don't cut your hair :)
See, as far as the scrunchies go, here's the thing; in Woodbridge, they never went away. So I've been seeing the things pretty steady since about 88. Luckily, I only have to venture into the old homeland roughly twice a month these days, and I never stray too far from the course to my stubbornly-refusing-to-retire-and-move-away parents' house, so my exposure has been much more limited for the last 8 years or so. But the damage was done long ago. I've been innoculated against scrunchy related illness.
I agree: broken keyboard = more vlogs. Its what god/allah would want.
-brian
tpwp--In my defense, it was not my idea to go there. But yeah, I agree. In the end, it was my bad...but never again...
nate--I don't know whether you're lucky to be immune to the horror of scrunchies or unfortunate...it's a dangerous territory.
brian--We'll have to see...because now I have my 'w' again!
Your keyboard experience reminds me that when the Bushi'ites took power in 2000, they spent a considerable amount of time bleating about how outgoing Clinton staffers had removed the "W" from their office keyboards.
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