For Gillian: At the National Gallery of Art

Hi Gillian. Yes, you were right.

From The Voyage of Life, by Thomas Cole.
This is The Voyage of Life Manhood, c. 1840.

I remember how gorgeous this series of paintings were. So large and vivid and dreamlike.

But this is the painting I went to see three times on three separate days of a very short Washington DC visit:

Woman Holding a Balance, by Johannes Vermeer
c. 1664

Seeing art like these paintings is an experience you never forget.

***

So, Gillian... Art before the crabcakes? Or eat first and get it out of the way?
Also, Legal Seafood has killer crab chowder. Yummm.

;-)

Crush #2 (and Crush Update)

Now I'm starting to develop a girly crush on Obama's new Chief of Staff, Rahm Emanuel. Is anyone else with me on that? I get the distinct impression that he gets sh*t done.

I picture him as a darker, meaner version of Jon Stewart (that's a good thing in my book): “Valentine’s Day is when Dick Cheney fantasizes about waterboarding.” Zing!

I have this fantasy that Mr. Emanuel is a cross between Benjamin Disraeli and the Sean Connery character in The Untouchables ("That's the Chicago way, and that's how you get Capone!")

If The Boy doesn't come home soon, I might have to live in Washington D.C. for a while. Besides being near my two crushes (the other being the new VP), I'll be able to have Chesapeake Bay crabcakes whenever I want and go to the National Gallery all the time. *sigh*

Anyone want to bunk with me?

***

UPDATE 5:09pm: OMG, I seriously love this man. Check out the little open love letter he wrote to The Shrub back in June!

I'm Not Here

Good morning!

I hopped the red eye last night and decided to spend the day in Paris...instead of wasting today sitting in a boring office with stressed-out people, and pretending to work.

Won't you join me? This song will make you smile, promise. I've been singing it all morning, and I think every time you do, Air France gives you frequent flyer miles.

This Time Tomorrow

I don't know about you today, but I was full of daydreams and it made for an interminably long day. I was in some weird suspended-animation state, frozen to my Aeron chair, answering phones.

My passport has been crying to me from inside my wallet, where the euros still live.

Where I am going? What am I leaving?

Who's coming with me?



This time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere sailing across an empty sea
This time tomorrow what will we know
Will we still be here watching an in-flight movie show
I'll leave the sun behind me and watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
Seven miles below me I can see the world and it ain't so big at all
This time tomorrow what will we see
Fields full of houses, endless rows of crowded streets
I don't where I'm going, I don't want to see
I feel the world below me looking up at me
Leave the sun behind me, and watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
And I'm in perpetual motion and the world below doesn't matter much to me
This time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere sailing across any empty sea
This time tomorrow, this time tomorrow