The Stars and the Cookie Jar

By which I mean that should probably have a comma. But either way. So, we're going to museums. As far as my brain can tell, we're going to one to view collections in a dignified manner, one to eat, and one to stand in the lobby, knocking tourists out of the way with a bat. Because I don't need to see no stinkin' gems. And I don't want to see the Native American canoes. I mean business, and I want to see the Tyrannosaurus Rex. I'm convinced the dinosaurs are just a joke the geologists haven't gotten yet. That doesn't mean I'm anti-evolutionary. I just think they're funny. Plus, they were great big boids, dirty, disgusting boids. And then we're going to go to the Museum of the Native American or whatever it's called, and look at architecture and eat fry bread. I am perfectly prepared to defend my cultural stance on eating fry bread. And then, you know, since my book is supposed to come out in two weeks, I thought I would go to the Holocaust museum and stand around in the hall of remembrance and look like I belong there or something. Because sometimes I feel really bad about that. And I want, like, a museum with armor and cuneiform seals in it, but they don't have one. Stupid capital. And then there's going to be grass. God, how I hate grass. It has tourists on it. It occurs to me that we could walk Bast on The Mall. I mean, if we drove there first in a car. But then she'd probably think the braid on somebody's epaulets was yarn, and we would have a problem. And Bast would be declared a feline threat to our nation's security.

So, we waited for the bus. And then we went to the Holocaust Museum. Which takes about 40 minutes, if you've ever done the collections at all, ever. I pondered whether Sophie Scholl was a baby dyke or what. Kind of inappropriate, you know, considering she got her head lopped off. But the candid photos made her look very much a baby dyke of the Weimar Republic. And, apparently, when I'm a little drunk, I lose my pronunciation, because I just say "why-mar". Sophie Scholl, this mimosa is for YOU.

My fiancee just called me a wench.

So, anyway. Holocaust Museum. I didn't break down until the Hall of Remembrance. Because, off to the side, like a little afterthought, there's the little steel cut names that say Ponary [sic] and the Ninth Fort. And it just makes me sad. And I was with my girlfriend, whom I love. So, I got all teared up. I held it together in the Tower of Faces, though. And then I thought, "is an eternal FLAME the most appropriate expression of remembrance, considering the subject matter?" But, you know.

Then we walked down the Mall, past at least six museums, we had an audience with some ducks. I think they were reflecting pool ducks, but they had moved on up to the east side. And we went to the cafe in the basement of the Museum of the Native American Indigenous Person. And, honestly, the cafe seemed far more comprehensive than the exhibits. Although, there was a nifty kayak in the storytelling area, and I really wanted a picture of myself getting harpooned. The food was yummy. It was quite as expensive as a restaurant with slightly more ambiance, but it was yummy. I had buffalo chili, and fry bread, and indian pudding and extraneously, half a cherry coke, and half a cookie. My dining companion had an indian taco. The cheese was a little too assertive for me. But the indian pudding was nummy. And then we sat around for a few minutes, as the carbs engulfed us in a warm carby haze. Then we walked back down the mall and to the metro and then I fell asleep.

The End.

Champagne

A Selection of Teas [TeaLuxe] And Accompaniments

Water with Assorted Citrus


....we're having a dry wedding. It's just better that way.

Tea Sandwiches

Egg Salad
Tuna Salad
Salmon and Dill Mayonnaise
Date, Walnut, Cream Cheese
Nutella
Cucumber
Peanut Butter, Honey, Banana

Scones

Plain
Cheddar
Honey Wheat
Strawberry Jam, Butter, Honey, All The Necessary Glop

Madeleines
Lemon Bars
Raspberry Linzer Bars
Chocolate-Dipped Strawberries, Apricots, and Bananas

Wedding Cake
...chocolate?
....white chocolate and lemon?
....vanilla with berries?


....We're milchig, which will kill us both OMG, but will enable all my friends to eat at the reception.

I'm posting the menu to gather y'all's input, so.

Input!