The Aftermath.

The “fuck up MAG’s 30th Birthday” weather service predicted that 5-8 inches of snow would fall on the DC metro area on January 26, 2011. The morning and midday hours would be nasty with  rain and snow and ice.

I didn’t care though. I was roused from a delicious sleep, greeted by kisses and a beautiful breakfast. My spirits were light as a feather. It was my day. I was alive. I was surrounded by love. The joyous occasion of my 30th birthday could. not. be. derailed. I went to work on CP time cause, shit, it was my birthday. And I felt like I should could take certain liberties. Habitually line-step, if you will. Folks went out of their way to make me feel special. I got thoughtful lil gifts. I got my coffee topped off with Bailey’s. Folks made sure that I got to taste good cuts of Turkish lamb. It was a good time. I felt loved. We even found out that we’d be leaving work early. It was only 4:30 and I was headed home to surprises. To being spoiled. And to being snowed in. In a really dope place. It was about to be on and poppin.

And then the shit hit the fan. Now, I’m no longer whiny about the hellish DC commute. I’ve come to expect that everyday — every morning, and every afternoon there’ll be some shemminysham on DC area roadways. It is what it is.  January 26, 2011, though, was incomparable. There was snow and icy rain, and traffic and insanely inconvenient road closures. The streets were awful. Whoever was responsible for plowing and salting or sanding hadn’t yet gotten around to that shit. So muhfukkas started getting stuck and spinning out, and getting stuck some more. Some of these people concluded — through their own logical process — that their best bet was to simply abandon their cars. Yep. Folk went right on ahead and abandoned their cars. “Imma just leave this right here.” Like, right here. Even if “here” was the middle of the Interstate. Situated across two and a half lanes.

the fuck?! I mean, where are you going if you’ve decided to abandon your car on the interstate. How are you getting home? How was this a good idea? Wait. Oh, so you’re walking? In a snowstorm? On the interstate?


What other choice might one have in a situation like this? I don’t fucking know. I’m just saying that car abandonment seems a bit rash to me. A bit foolhardy. A bit fucked up, when we’re stuck. Behind your abandoned ass vehicle.

It took more than two hours to drive just 4 miles. And because traffic had packed the snow into the roadways, and steadily dipping nighttime temperatures had turned that shit into ice, it took me eight hours to get home. Kindly recall that I’d left work at 4:30. On my 30th birthday.

I didn’t arrive home until 2 a.m.

The morning after my 30th birthday.

It was awful. I will suffer PTSD for months from the endless trail of tail lights and spinning tires that wasn’t gettin no traction no time soon. It was, in short, some bullshit.


The flyest M&Ms ever crafted.

But I survived it. And now I have a great “30th Birthday” story to tell. However, between me and you, graciousness and positivity aside for a moment, it was definitely some bullshit. Make no mistake about it. The brighter side of this tragic tale is that She had these beauties waiting for me when I got home. Totally made it worth it. Thank you, B.

Happy birthday to me.


About moniquealicia

M.A.G. is a doctoral student at Howard University. She resides in the Washington, DC metro area, and is passionate about her love of family and friends, politics and conversation, and the exceptional meal. View all posts by moniquealicia

2 responses to “The Aftermath.

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