The Fantabulous Life of Miss Mary Anne

I’ve injured myself. I fell down the stairs, in front of my house, in front of the entire neighborhood. Slid down the stairs and ended up with my skirt over my head, showing the whole world my cellulite fighting control top nylons. SEXY! Not only embarrassing, but both knees are all scabby and bloody. What am I, 8? No, I’m almost 28, so they’re also stiff and it’s really hard to walk. Plus, I did something weird to my right elbow and my ass is a shade of purple that Crayola really needs to seriously consider adding. And my wrist hurts. And I’m not sure my pride will ever recover.

And I would just like to make a note to DC drivers:

Hi. When it’s raining? And because we live in DC, therefore foggy? So foggy you can’t see the Washington Monument, so foggy when you can’t see the tops of the tines of the bent fork that is the Air Force Memorial? I mean, I know the white-on-white-on-super-pale-gray color scheme of the morning commute is a DC standard, but, for the love of all that is good and holy,

TURN ON YOUR GODDAMN LIGHTS.

Seriously people, it’s not that hard. Rain+Fog=Driving with your lights on!