I actually hate it when people comment on posts with only “FIRST…” (for the non-nerds out there, it’s like internet peeing on something. You “yell” first, as you are the first to comment on a post. It is really dumb. The end.) The only thing I hate worse that “FIRST” is when they are actually second or third, and didn’t yell FIRST, first! And snakes, I also really, REALLY hate snakes. And I hate people who OVER capitalize words JUST for the sake of emphasis. And I also hate people who start sentences with And, But, If, etc. I actually hate a lot of things. More about that later.
The saddest part of this blog, and there are several sad things, is that I find myself to be completely hilarious, and due to my lack of motivation, people have missed out on years of reading everything I have to say. I also love schadenfreude, and I feel like I have denied SO many people the enjoyment of laughing at my misfortune, and for that I am sorry.
The impetus for staring THIS blog (look at that self important A-hole… capitalizing the tap-dancing hell out of stuff…) was that recently I was training for a marathon. If you know me, you will know how ridiculous this was in the first place! I was knocked out of my first race because of a stress fracture to the foot, and had to start the next season instead. (I find random bolding of words to be slightly less obnoxious than capitalization, although it is all relative) So fast forward to a new season, I am training for an awesome half marathon in Virginia Beach. I am actually looking forward to it, in fact, weird. I was at my second-to-last long run (12 miles I think), and I opted to make it an outside run because, you’ll understand if you’re anywhere on the east coast, this has been a long winter and I can only handle so many hours of food network and treadmills. I drove to my favorite trail, put my book on tape on (Let’s pretend this never happened, by Jenny Lawson – my blogging hero, btw), stretched, and walked over to the trail. I stepped over a stick and a little leftover melting pile of snow… DIRECTLY ONTO BLACK ICE. I flew into the air, put my left foot down behind me, and heard three distinct and revolting crunch noises. I knew it was broken before I hit the ground. So several hours of surgery and a pound of metal later, no marathon for this guy.
I tell you THAT story to get to my point of why I’m blogging (yes, that’s right, all of this has been a lot of wind up with very little pitch, I know). I am now riding the Washington Metro Area Transit Authority’s version of a special van. It’s called MetroAccess, and it has been so DREADFULLY atrocious, that it lit a fire under my gimpy rear to actually blog about it.
TL/DR – I broke my leg, and metro sucks, and I’m going to tell you all about it.
(Again, for you non nerds, TL/DR = too long, didn’t read, aka give me the G-damned reader’s digest version please!)
For your viewing pleasure – here is a before and after of my sexy ankle
In summation, (there was no need to bold that word, now I’m just being cheeky), this started as a blog about my metro rides, but for as long as my attention span allows, I will just blog about all of the random things that happen, that warrant being documented for posterior, uh, posterity… And as we all know, my attention span is amaz… Oh hey! Something shiny!
EDIT: As you see from the “Archives” dates, I like to abandon this, and revisit periodically. So while the broken leg was the impetus for starting the blog, boredom or a single funny thought/story is why I keep coming back. I now am out of the DC metro area, and I’m back in the city of Champions. New city, better football team, but an equally HORRID public transportation system.