It’s the Freakin’ Weekend

Guests giving a high five to Trump.

Every year the U.S. Embassy throws a big July 4th party for its friends in the other embassies, business folk in the American Chamber of Commerce and other associates, like us journalist types. The location has changed each year, and this year it felt like a giant car show in the Hyatt because sponsors parked Teslas and GM vehicles all over the place. Tito’s Vodka was also sponsoring and everyone knows it is my favorite beverage so, I just kind of parked it near the Tito’s station.

You know what was never busy though? The gazpacho station. I still don’t really get gazpacho.

The Trump selfie stations were a huge draw, as Korean guests really enjoyed going to get their pictures taken with the life-sized cardboard cutouts of the American president and his wife. (An embassy official was stationed near there to monitor for crude gestures at the selfie station, but she admitted that Koreans weren’t the concern, it was the Americans they had to worry about.)

Too Soon?

“The only people left at this party are the journalists and the arms dealers.” -Friend John

Ouch. That’s a reference to this episode, which you may have read about. (I have to say there’s a little bit of envy in the drama factor of this story. In all my years reporting, no one has ever approached me with a lucrative arms dealing opportunity.)

Look Ma

You’re now reading the musings of a bonafide member of the Council on Foreign Relations.

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Fried Chicken, Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson dolls my parents sent me.

A rare confluence of circumstances led to an epic Wednesday night out: My friend Liz (Taylor, natch) was back on her feet after back surgery and really jonesing for fried chicken and doughnuts, my always-entertaining and ever-brilliant friend Michael Maness was in town after his recent month-long hiatus from work and was brimming with stories and rants and, I had nowhere to be besides eating fried chicken and drinking with two insanely fun people. We did some varsity level boozing and got home just before 1am. Consequently, I was in a daze all day, but it was worth it.

Then, my dad came in from Holland! He’s here for the spawn’s first birthday this weekend (god, time flies) and he brought me two gifts that encapsulate a.) how awesome my parents are b.) how well they know me and c.) how much they love me.

Mom sent a liter of 100 proof vodka (50% alcohol), and these amazing Michael Jackson Russian dolls. Because, Michael Jackson Russian dolls.

There’s a tie for the best thing I read all day: One, is a photoshopped image that my old pal Chris Chang created of Vladmir Putin riding his dog doppleganger, and two, is a New Yorker piece defending Jonathan Franzen’s recent anti-technology rant because a lot of it we can actually get behind.

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A Round of Cheers and Jeers

I’ve been sitting around my living room a lot more lately, since I am too slow to really move around and apparently I could go into labor at any moment. That has allowed plenty of time to consume more pop culture and cast judgement upon it.

Cheers

This Jacoby Jones endzone dance from the Ravens-Eagles game today. It looks like he’s doing some sort of mongolian barbecuing or something … not sure, but it makes me happy:

 

Scott Disick. This guy is the only reason I’ve managed to sit through about four or five episodes of E!’s Keeping Up With the Kardashians. He’s vapid and narcissistic like the rest of them, but he owns it and seems to be a pretty decent father, actually.

Owing to more sensitive gums, I am now flossing numerous times a day. So a big shout out to my favorite floss, Oral B’s Glide Pro-Health. So smooth. You know what else is smooth? Tito’s vodka, which I miss so much.

Jeers

Really!?

American peanut butter giant Jif has decided to make “Jif Hazelnut” to compete with the European hazelnut spread standard-bearer, Nutella. Say it with me now: OUTRAGE! But let’s see what the market decides, cause I don’t see how Nutella addicts will accept any imitators.

And how about one more first-world problem jeer for not-being-able-to-sleep-on-one’s-stomach? This whole sleeping on your side situation is getting old. I know I am supposed to cherish this special time and all, and I am quite appreciative of the miracle of life and all the perspective it brings, but free range sleeping was so nice back when it was an option.

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