Sprig in a Blanket
Tagged to go to another embassy function tonight, meaning arriving home late, after kids in bed, which made me glad I was able to talk to my son twice on the phone though he's still struggling with the concept:
"Hi Daddy I Love You Erin is Here Ummmmmmmmm Are You Done With Me Bye Bye Daddy See You Later Bye."
Perhaps this will nip that telemarketing career in the bud.
Turned out to be a nice evening, in a grand ballroom at the HQ of the Organization of American States, not having realized that Serbia had recently moved next to Guatemala, Balkan Squatters that they are. It's nice to feel more comfortable in the settings, recognizing more folks and being reciprocally noticed, able to say hello in various languages, kiss various cheeks. Plus the finger-food was awesome, to include asparagus wrapped in a prosciutto-like meat, loosely surrounded by a baked pastry, making it look vaguely like a vegetarian corn dog. Sadly, by the time I was done talking with the Zambian and Kenyan Air Attaches and heard the speech from the Ambassador and some American Congresswoman, the plate of them was empty and sad, much like, I imagine, the hole left in south-east Europe, thanks to Serbia's move. Perhaps Montenegro can buy some large plants at Hellenic Home Depot.
With the venue at Constitution and 17th, I stole five minutes away for myself and crossed the street to go look at the WWII memorial, as I'd not seen it at night, other than driving by. Unlike the the Look At Me bright white searchlights on the White House and Washington Monument, the lighting here is yellower, dimmer, subtle, everything awash in a soft glow, literally like a night light. Despite the recent warm weather, disappointed that the lake and fountains were understandably drained for the winter, so I'll have to come back in the summer.
But when I turned a corner at the front of the memorial and saw the Lincoln Memorial shining like a temple in the distance, I literally got chills. Something about the quiet night, being in uniform at that location, the clop of my dress shoes echoing against the marble, American flags billowing slightly... I don't know. Wonderful feeling. I do so like this job.
I wonder how green beans would taste in a Pillsbury Crescent Roll?
"Hi Daddy I Love You Erin is Here Ummmmmmmmm Are You Done With Me Bye Bye Daddy See You Later Bye."
Perhaps this will nip that telemarketing career in the bud.
Turned out to be a nice evening, in a grand ballroom at the HQ of the Organization of American States, not having realized that Serbia had recently moved next to Guatemala, Balkan Squatters that they are. It's nice to feel more comfortable in the settings, recognizing more folks and being reciprocally noticed, able to say hello in various languages, kiss various cheeks. Plus the finger-food was awesome, to include asparagus wrapped in a prosciutto-like meat, loosely surrounded by a baked pastry, making it look vaguely like a vegetarian corn dog. Sadly, by the time I was done talking with the Zambian and Kenyan Air Attaches and heard the speech from the Ambassador and some American Congresswoman, the plate of them was empty and sad, much like, I imagine, the hole left in south-east Europe, thanks to Serbia's move. Perhaps Montenegro can buy some large plants at Hellenic Home Depot.
With the venue at Constitution and 17th, I stole five minutes away for myself and crossed the street to go look at the WWII memorial, as I'd not seen it at night, other than driving by. Unlike the the Look At Me bright white searchlights on the White House and Washington Monument, the lighting here is yellower, dimmer, subtle, everything awash in a soft glow, literally like a night light. Despite the recent warm weather, disappointed that the lake and fountains were understandably drained for the winter, so I'll have to come back in the summer.
But when I turned a corner at the front of the memorial and saw the Lincoln Memorial shining like a temple in the distance, I literally got chills. Something about the quiet night, being in uniform at that location, the clop of my dress shoes echoing against the marble, American flags billowing slightly... I don't know. Wonderful feeling. I do so like this job.
I wonder how green beans would taste in a Pillsbury Crescent Roll?
posted by Dan at 11:12 PM
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