Friday, January 23, 2009

'snot nice


As I got on the Metro this morning, my nose ran a tad from having walked in the freezing cold. I didn't have a tissue, so I quickly used my fuzzy gloved hand to gently wipe away my runny nose. I'm not sick, just a minor leaky faucet situation. I looked around and many men and women were doing the same thing--I guess like me they didn't have tissues handy. Nobody really thinks about how disgusting it is to use your glove as a tissue, just a quick pass under you nose. I'm certain people don't wash the gloves daily. We're holding the same Metro poles, basically passing around other's tissues. Ugh! Yet, before today, I felt that my hands were protected from strangers' germs in the winter months, comfortably warmy inside my soft cable-knit Gap gloves. I think I may need to buy a pack of Kleenex and some hand sanitizer. I am also deeply sorry for my own actions. I will wash my gloves tonight.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

'Tis a Merry Land


Sometimes I think to myself on the walk home from the Metro, “I live in Silver Spring, Maryland.” How idyllic that must sound to those in ugly sounding cities such Munich or Helsinki. I wonder if they would think (to be said in a British accent), “Those Silver Springers, those Marylanders. Oh, what a gleeful folk they must be. Indeed, how they must frolic in the green pastures among the hobbits and picnic beneath cherry blossom trees all year round. I wish to one day visit that far off magical-sounding land.” Well, they can stay at my condo overlooking construction of two other condo buildings and have a picnic under our fake bamboo tree in my living room…

Friday, January 16, 2009

Yes, I'm Watching You


Location: Two blocks from work
Time: 8:23am
It was in single digits today with the wind chill factor. I had on my long coat, my knit hat, and my turtleneck sweater unrolled up covering my mouth and nose. Only my eyes were visible. A man and a woman chatted on the corner as we waited for the light to change. I could tell from their all-black suits and dapper black shoes that they were FBI agents. As we crossed the street, she headed left, he headed straight saying “I’m at headquarters today.” From amid all my wool, my eyes briefly me his. I narrowed my eyes at him, partly from the searing cold, but partly because I felt I could be undercover in my outfit. I wanted him to feel like I could possibly be spying on him, and I'd be letting my people know where he'd be working that day…

Winter seems to be the perfect season for DC pretend espionage.