Clearly, the universe hates me.

I would just like the record to show that the last time it snowed in Das Capital was Snowpocalypse.  I've been merrily rolling through winter in Das Capital like it's nothing.  Mostly because it's way less intense than winter in Ohio.  So last Saturday, as we're getting ready to go to the bar, I get a text from Lizzie that says "Guess who's going to be in Baltimore next weekend?" And I got really excited because my powers of deductive reasoning led me to the obvious answer:  one Lizzie herself would be fronting as a Baltimoron next weekend.  I'm sure you can imagine my excitement and delight.  But today, the day of said trip, sadness and tragedy (and evidence of the universe's hatred for me) has struck.  It's currently snowing like a bitch here in the nation's capital.  I know pouring is an expression for rain, not snow, but I feel that's what it's doing.  Pouring snow.  Literally.  In the hour (well, 52 minutes, if I'm being totally honest) it took me to get my hair cut this morning the road went from totally fine to a snowy out of control possible death situation.  Okay, possible death might be a little dramatic, but Heidi was not having it.  And the traffic cameras on 495 don't look any better.  And I just keep thinking of last night when Meggie told me not to go to the bar because it was too cold and if I did don't be one of those idiot girls who pretends like it's not cold when it is.  I assured her I certainly was not.  Which is true.  (Most of the time.)  So I'm just drawing the only logical conclusion I can from the inopportune weather:  clearly, the universe hates me.  On the plus side, it's only supposed to snow until tonight, so (fingers crossed) the plan to bake cupcakes and celebrate Jane's birthday in West VA is still a go.  

Other knowledge gleaned from an earlier romp in the snow:  if it's cold enough, and you don't wear a hat, your hair will freeze.  I learned that today when Libb and I walked from Dupont to the U St. to get her wallet.  Then, once my hair unfroze, it got out of control.  We were sitting at lunch and I could see my hair in the window and all the effort Veronica had put into blowing my hair out this morning was for naught.  There was not a straight hair left on the top of my head.  So I guess I need to invest in a hat.  (I can actually hear my mother's reaction to that statement.)

In other news, I've reached the four month mark of living in DC without a job, and it's resulting in some serious boldness.  I sent an email for a job earlier this week that all but included the phrase "I am the bomb".  And believe me, if there were a way I could have thought of to make that sound professional it certainly would have been in there.  Because it's true.