Good morning Watergate City.
Read this and this
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Apparently, there is not a single alternate word to describe The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so I'll just tell you that we went to the P'tomac Yards allegory theater on Saturday night to see us an allegory.
The allegory, true to form, raised some deep and serious questions on the car ride home. The N. was particularly troubled, not so much re-examining the traditional Christian faith by which he was raised, but instead wondering aloud who- if there's only four humans in this magical land- curled the girls hair? Also- why did C.S. Lewis not craft an entire book devoted to the trials of going through puberty in Narnia? Who's going to help out on that? The centaurs? Because, p'shaw.
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In other weekend news, after my office party on Friday I slit my wrists dramatically and then headed out to pay for drinks, what is wrong with me. Highlight: I was the only person to remain sober after spending 6 1/2 hours in the same seat at chez bar, so something might be wrong with me. Wrong with me wrong with me, wrong wrong wrong. Seriously, did not move an inch the entire night, stuck in the corner like Baby, all sulky and sober.
I did, however, recant a hilarious story or two about the D. and also discussed opening a pie shop with one of her coworkers, where all the employees would wear hats like the Cheeseheads of Green Bay, but instead they would be giant slices of pie. Impressive, I know.
Last night, I ate tacos!