choice quotations from DC

DC was a blast. The city was not nearly as exciting or as vogue as I expected, but we had some great meals, with great company, and saw some pretty stuff: Cezanne at the National Gallery, the Sculpture Garden, the Bonsai exhibit at the National Arb, the Jefferson Memorial and Washington Monument at Night, Dupont Circle, etc. I'm relatively sure I had the best, freshest Chinese food I've ever had on Saturday evening at the Asian Bistro in Old Town(e?), which is one of Courtney's old haunts.

Pics here.

Matt: [eyeing my white ONE.org bracelet] Hey. What does ONE mean again?
Me: [jokingly] It means...go fuck yourself.
Kevin: I love this part of the vacation.

Courtney: [driving and trying to find Sephora. Also, exasperated with Matt, who has been whining about needing to pee] Mathew, do you really have to pee or is this another one of your psychological experiments?

Kevin: Yeah, I'm pretty sure no one 's first exposure to Matt should be through that quote board. You can write that down, Al.

Matt: [has been complaining about his gimpy feet] I believe in eugenics.
Kevin: Matt.
Al: Yeah. What Kevin said. That covers it.
Matt: [innocently] What?
Kevin: OK, then let's start with the people with foot problems.

'cause I remember how we drank time together

There are fine lines under my eyes. I think these are called laugh lines, but I'm not entirely certain because I try to pay little attention to the literature that would a) identify them as such (eg women's beauty magazines) b) suggest they're some sort of imperfection (ditto) and c) suggest they need fixing with this brand! new! eye! cream! for 50 dollars (ditto again). Instead, I am wondering if their appearance is because grad school has aged me (and how!), or because I am 25 now (so old!), or because of recent sometimes-erratic sleep patterns (most def worth the lack of sleep. ahem), or indeed, because I have laughed too much and too long (is this possible? no).

I am writing this a mile high, in the Denver International Airport. It's not my favorite airport, by far, but as far as amenities go, it's a pretty decent one with large terminals and lots of shopping and dining options. I need none of those this morning--what I really need is a nice, cool, dark room in which to take a nap before my next flight takes off. I've been awake since 3 AM Arizona time, as I had to drive to Phoenix to catch my 7:55 AM flight. Waking at 3 AM is a strange thing to endure; there's almost no time at which you can go to bed the night before and still wake rested and feelin' ready to go. People are going to bed at 3 AM. People are still at work at 3 AM (he who is responsible for my erratic sleep was, after all). 3 AM is no time to wake up, my friends.

My only consolation for my tragic lack of sleep last night is that in several hours, I'll be with some of my best friends in a city I should have a long history with, but have never visited. We've been planning this trip since July. That was before I moved to Arizona, before I started graduate school, before Kristin and Zach were married, before Matt's visit out here, before my birthday, before I wrecked my car and bought a new one, before I finished my first graduate level seminar papers, before the holidays, before Mexico, before Tucson men numbers 1-6, and before we were accepted to NWSA. In short, it was a long time ago and it's hard to believe it's finally here. I opened this blog by talking about my laugh lines because if past experience is any indication, there are going to be a few more below my eyes after this weekend.