The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘D.C.’

Attn: Ellen (6/20/12)

Front


Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I’m in D.C.! My friend Airplanes has joined me for this trip. She, get ready for a shock, loves airplanes. Before I travel she tells me an “interesting” fact about airplanes. One day I explained to her how it works, it’s a little something like this:

(see obnoxious drawing above)

She finds me to be annoying.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com

Why am I sending these postcards?

Attn: Ellen (6/13/12)

Front


Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Soon I’ll be going to visit D.C.! I’m debating starting a postcard writing campaign to the president. I figure I’ll easily be able to tell if they’re getting them or not, from how fast security guards are to give me strange glances. But I bet Carl, the Secret Service guy with the quirky sense of humor that I made up just now, I bet he’ll wave hello.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com

Attn: Ellen (4/25/12)

Front


Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Tough-day-at-the-office Panda gets it. Sometimes you just need to be held.

Unfortunately tough-day-at-the-office Panda refuses to be little spoon and frankly that’s a mistake.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com

Happy Birthday to … GMa and G Pat

October is a big birthday month in my family. I decided to do a little post for some of the birthday boys and girls I know.

I’m combining these guys into one post for two reasons – 1, so that I can do the birthday posts in one week (which is much more soothing to my engineering-side than to have this in one week plus one day); 2, because they’re not immediate family. Sorry guys, I’m biased.

GMa

My grandma is crazy in the best way possible. She’s got an awesome sense of humor and has the classic grandma look down. Sweet, little lady? You betcha.

My senior year of high school my parents were going to be gone for a while on a trip to visit my sister who was then studying in Spain. They decided to have my grandma come stay with me for the duration of the trip. I have to admit I was not happy about this.

They had gone on trips in the past without feeling the need to have someone their to supervise me, and yet there I was, needing a babysitter. In retrospect they probably just wanted me to spend some time with my grandma, but I was too thick to see that.

Anyhow. Out she flew from Phoenix to Georgia. And off my parents went to Spain (those punks).

My grandma has always been a pretty healthy eater. As part of this she didn’t work with salt too often. Salt – a mystery food! Nevertheless, she wanted to cook us some nice food while she was there. One night this involved mashed potatoes.

They were, easily, the worst mashed potatoes I’ve ever eaten.

They had enough salt on them to satisfy 30 deer (like a salt lick … get it?). I took a bite and my face just about caved in. But I trudged on. And grandma, wanting this to be a nice meal, ate too. For her, a salt rookie, she didn’t know how much salt was the right amount and apparently thought more was better.

At some point during the meal she looked up and said, “this seems a bit salty.” I would’ve laughed but my face had dehydrated into nothingness.

Why am I telling this seemingly insulting story about my grandma for her birthday? Because I stink at compliments, and also because it shows that she was there, being kind, and trying to do something with me even though it wasn’t her bag of chips. (Her bag of insanely salted chips probably.)

If I could go back in time I would be less of a snotty teenage, and appreciate her visit much more.

Happy bday grandma!, and thanks for being awesome!

And no, I don’t want seconds.

Cousin G Pat

My cousin G Pat is an all-around nice guy. When I was in D.C. this past summer I got to spend an afternoon with him which was great. I hadn’t seen him in a number of years but I knew, and he has stated this, that it made no difference.

For G Pat family is family – and you look out for them.

G Pat and I talked a bit about work and it was clear he has himself a nice spot – he’s a guy who knows how to talk, and knows geeky stuff. (That’s more rare than you’d think. Usually it’s one or the other.)

The odd thing is, I think I’ll always associate G Pat with solitaire.

When I was younger I saw him on two different occasions. He was crazy for little handheld solitaire games (great for road trips). Each time he’d let me borrow one to play, and then tell me to keep it – he was too addicted to them anyway.

Apparently this is true because between trip one and two he’d bought himself a new one. I imagine if I had asked to see his phone when I saw him last I would’ve found ten different types of solitaire on it.

Although handheld solitaire games aren’t much it clearly illustrates (in my mind) the kind of guy G Pat is – that is, like I said before, all-around nice.

Thanks G Pat for grabbing lunch with me in D.C., the handheld solitaires (they killed many hours on a number of road trips for me), and being my cousin!

Happy Bday!

“UGH!, walks with Dad are the WORST!!!”

This is a statue in D.C. for the Boy Scouts. Check out more pictures here.

A bit of explanation can be found here, but I’ll paste the bit about the (naked) man:

“The male figure exemplifies physical, mental, and moral fitness, love of country, good citizenship, loyalty, honor, and courage. He carries a helmet, a symbol of masculine attire.”

Sure, masculine. I get it. But it still took me by surprise. Like some terrible childhood where the dad couldn’t get enough attention.

“Son, let’s go outside for a walk!”
“I really need to do my homework dad! Sorry, maybe tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow!? Have you SEEN this physique!? We can’t deny the world this hot bod – we’re going outside NOW!”
(“UGH!, walks with Dad are the WORST!!!”)

Pictures from My D.C. Meanderings

 

Not a good picture but I just really enjoyed this statue

Not a good picture but I just really enjoyed this statue

Quick Hits from D.C.

Hello friends … how are ye? I’m in the D.C. area for a little trip.

I

I’ll throw out a statement my cousin, and sometime commenter, made yesterday:

He was talking about seeing a beautiful woman and the thoughts that follow

  • She’s probably a jerk because she’s so beautiful
  • She’s probably too good to talk to him
  • “Or three, I’m an idiot because neither of those first things are true but I’m too afraid to go talk to her.”

I won’t say that last one is a direct quote because I didn’t write it down then, but I thought that was pretty brilliant from ol’ cousin G.

II

I also got to meet up with a friend of mine I haven’t seen since high school. I had bragged somewhat about meeting up with her because she’s a writer for a very well known and good magazine … Time.

Yeah. That’s right. I know a real writer.

She called me a tramp many times. This is because, at dinner one night, we (along with friends of hers) talked about if a kiss at the end of a good first date is expected. I said yes. She said no. Therefore, I was a tramp. So you’ve heard it here first, folks, Time magazine thinks I’m a tramp.

III

Last night I went to a coffee shop mainly to check emails. I noticed a table right by me with two girls, one of them on her laptop. She was looking at okcupid and plentyoffish, two dating websites. She was reading some messages to her friend, and they were laughing about guys on that site.

Sure it could be perceived as mean, but I’d challenge you to be on one of those sites and NOT do that sometimes.

One of the messages the girl had gotten involved the guy telling her she was lucky to have received a message from him, that it was a great experience. I thought that was pretty good.

I actually ended up talking to them about the sites and how they enjoy them. One of the girls told me the other girl was trying to date the village people – a biker, a cop, an Indian chief, a … whatever the rest are. This was a joke goal, but also pretty fantastic.

Girl 1: Where will we find a cowboy?
Girl 2: Ok well it doesn’t have to be a cowboy.
Girl 1: Yeah, it could just be like a guy from Texas.
Girl 2: Yeah. He’d have to wear a cowboy hat though.
Girl 1: Ok so a guy from Texas.
(Me sitting there, visiting from Texas.)

The fact that I went up and talked to these two was enough bold, outgoing-ness for one day. I wasn’t about to say, “ya’ll lookin’ for a Texan? Aw now, look no futha’.” Except wait, I’m awkward.

Me: I’m actually visiting here from Houston.
Girl 1: Perfect! You two can date!
(Girl 2 probably scared.)
Me: Well I’m not FROM Texas. You need one of my co-workers with a real thick drawl.
Girl 1: Oh ok.
(Unsure where to go from there … a little awkward silence … I made fun of Texas … then the shop owner says ok get out. It was closing time.)

Congratulations to me.

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