There are some things about my height, though, that I really hold dear, like the ability to walk quickly without too much effort, which is why I'm so upset that you violated the pedestrian hierarchy this morning. You looked like you were trying so hard with your little arms swinging, but all you managed to get on me was about a foot of pavement and then I had to look at you all the way to Dupont Circle. Oh my, you have some tightening up to do:
I know it must be really upsetting when the towel you use during your home hair-dying experiment gets in the laundry with your khakis, and now they're a color that the folks over at L.L. Bean might enthusiastically call "raspberry". Maybe its what you get for choosing that alarming wine-stained hair color in the first place. But why keep punishing yourself for how badly the dye job ended up by actually putting on the pants?!
I know that style-based decision-making is hard sometimes. Plus, judging by the carrier bags you're swinging, you've recently been a victim of Diesel, a brand which probably should never have crossed the Atlantic - if there's one thing worse than euro-trash-chic, it's an American wearing euro-trash-chic. But you've also got an Anthropologie bag there so I know - I know - you've been near something or someone attractively put-together at some point, but you probably couldn't see it for all that