Rita, Rita, bo-Bita, Bana Fana Fo-Fita, Me, Mi, Mo-Mita - RITA!

Listen up, Mother Nature. I'm ususally down with your wacky schemes, your interesting weather patterns, your demonstrations which humble and inspire me with the power that dwells in the Earth and all her forces... but I'm fucking sick of hurricanes, dude. Way sick of them. Think maybe it's time to pester Antarctica with another blizzard or something? How about giving us semi-tropical folks a little respite until next season.

Rita is coming. Yesterday afternoon there was some chatter about a new tropical storm brewing just north of Cuba. A few hours later she had a name (and not an especially delightful name, either. No offense if you're a Rita, it's just not on the top of my list of all-time fave names for my hypothetical children) and now she has a predicted path of destruction that's set to disrupt at least my afternoon and probably the next few days. Now before you go thinking I'm such a wimpy, selfish ho - I understand that Katrina did practically nothing to us compared to the gulf coast, but you know what? It still sucked. It left everyone here under water, without power, and out of work for 5 days. If Rita does that again there are lots of people here who will be affected in nasty ways and I'll be one of them. The office is closing in 15 minutes to let everyone go home and prepare their houses. That's very thoughtful and responsive, but it means that I'm in the hole for 2 hours of work so far and probably 8 tomorrow.

Last bitch and moan of the day (wait - of the day so far... I can't cheat myself out of further opportunities to complain about worthless junk, c'mon now) if Rita screws up our flights to DC on Thursday for K's wedding weekend I will probably have the most intense of private meltdowns and a rather rousing public one, as well. Rita - don't mess with this sister. I beg you.