It’s Thursday, and it’s still raining here in D.C. If it were a few degrees colder, I have no doubt it would be snowing or sleeting, instead. The security guard at work believes it will be a harsh winter this year, and I have no reason to doubt him. The man is a walking almanac.

Yesterday after work, my student employee and I headed out to brave the the deluge. He is an Italian (and I mean this literally -- he’s from a village near Naples), and he’s very confused by the weather. "I do not understand how it can be so cold and still be raining," he said (you’ll have to imagine his accent). "I thought that when it was cold, it snowed."

I tried to explain to him that even though it’s cold, the air temperature is still above freezing. I think he understood what I was saying, but his grasp of English is limited.

He recently came into my office and inexplicably asked me how to spell "busting my balls." When I told him, he was delighted: "Ah -- 'busting' is spelled just like 'dusting' but with a 'b'!" Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that he’s eight years older than me, and an attorney by profession. I feel strange explaining the English language to an attorney.

There was a "Drag Race" scheduled last night a block away from our house. This is an annual Halloween event in Dupont Circle, when the city’s greatest drag queens race down 17th Street as if to defy the fact that winter is just around the corner. Pantaliamon and I made plans to go this year because we slept through last year’s installment, so we were disappointed that it was probably rained out. Apparently, a little cold rain never stopped the city’s greatest queens -- we learned afterwards that they indeed held it in the downpour. I can just imagine five hundred-odd soaking wet queens racing down the street in stiletto heals and sequined dresses -- I hope they don’t get the flu. I guess the "Drag Race" is like the United States Postal Service, unhindered by snow or rain or gloom of night.

Halloween is my favorite holiday, yet this year it’s just too wet to properly experience it. I ate some candy corn, but it just didn’t get me into the spirit of things. I think the drag race might have helped. Perhaps I’ll dress up the dog and take him trick or treating. He’d probably like that.