DES PHOTOS

Back in February, another West Wing tour ..

.. courtesy of Anna this time (in the executive pong room).

Anti-Valentine's Valentine's with the SG, Jae on the karaoke mic at Cafe Japone.  Alex is unimpressed. 

Stepped foot in Brokeback country for the first time, went skiing at Jackson Hole.

About 90 mi. drive east from Idaho Falls across to Wyoming.

Over the Teton Pass (Teton's derived from the French meaning "titties," no joke).

Flat Teton.

Curvy Teton.  First sighting of Jackson.

It snowed, a lot.

Drive-thru liquor store.  (How's this legal?)

Went to a real-life cowboy bar: Scary.

Downtown Jackson.

Hokey architecture.

Antique guns for sale.

Grand Teton National Park.  Too bad you can't see anything.

Prom night with the company, some charity fundraiser.

So, so funny.  With one of Diana's favorites, Congresswoman Solis (D-CA).

Queueing to shmooze with the new Senate Energy Chairman, Senator Bingaman (D-NM).

I asked Dongwoo what words he had for Kayla on her first birthday.

He said, "I hope you appreciate this."

Mar. 29, 11:24 p.m.: Laundry crisis imminent.

Mar. 30, 7:24 a.m.: Laundry crisis averted.

Bonjour, Montreal -- take 1.

Le bachelor week-end for Steve.

Some club.

Sang and Eugene.

Ed with the Elizabeths.

Shots with scary French-Canadian bridezilla.

What rue Ste-Catherine looks like in broad daylight.

Coal-fired grill at Queue de Cheval (but no horsemeat).

A dollup of French butter atop a biftek americain.

Pregame with Monsieur Bush.

Viewer discretion advised.

Jay, Sang and Dave to the casino.

Trop froid.

The French fascination with street performance starts early.

Le Square Phillips.  Interesting history, the Quebecois considered themselves the blacks of Canada; nearly all the commerce in the French-speaking province was controlled by Anglos.

The basilica that mimics the one in Rome.

Montreal's own Notre-Dame (the one where the hunchback lives is way better).

Celebrating the exploitation of the sauvages.

Their city hall.

Ski practice in front of their city hall.

Ski practice down away from their city hall.

Smoke break in the old city.

Back in Washington, hooray for Perrier.

Long Island and North Carolina.

Whoa, the Tasmanian devil from New Jersey.

Cool pic, by Sarah.

Sunset.

Mr. Jefferson.

From the SG: James, Sarah, James, Jenny and Jennie.

Mom inspecting the pad.

Dad and sis.

Presidential, at the National Portrait Gallery.

Not so presidential.

Buzz, a new coffeeshop in Alexandria (all buzz).

Hello, Dartmouth!

Andrew's bachelor weekend.

Social!!

What is this sh*t.

Saj.

Chris and Tony with some coed.

Perez.

Undergrads, and underage.

Drink!!

Work that squeegee.

Lucky and Andrew.

Little bro Ben.

An environmental disaster (bring back the kegs).

Strange, this used to be a tape deck.

Asbestos and rat poison.

Snow in April, for real?!!

Rise 'n shine.  The notorious Mr. Coo'.

Glory days.

Trophies.

New composite.

Adolf, still there.

Hotel Kappa.

RIP, Bailey.

My old room.

Baker.  (That's house dog Ruf.)

View from my 'shmen dorm.

The church Wheelock founded in 1771.

The new New Dorms.

Firing up the grill.

Brian, Russ, Tony, me, Chris and Saj.

In Montreal now (again!).

After way too much "danse contact."

Degenerates still up after hours of wreckless gambling.

With resident Canadien Stew on the right.

600 mi. back to DC in 12 hours, not bad considering I drove through the entire length of that torrential Nor'easter.  (I loved how the downpour ends just as I hit New York Ave.)

LE FIN.

There will be a laundry crisis this time tomorrow morning (last time was five weeks from the day after tomorrow).  I found one last clean undershirt buried in the back of my closet .. well, I could try going commando tomorrow.

Any women out there who enjoy doing laundry, let's meet.  Liquid detergent and fabric softener, on me!

Killington over New Year's.

Fresh snow, and frigid.

Competitive Jenga.

It's over.

Drink!

Jay.

Thirsty.

Vermont prime rib.

500 miles back to DC.

**

Back in September (?), O's vs. Yankees, Camden Yards.

Spillage.

Hah-vid, went up to visit Andrew.

These coeds don't look so terrible?

Scorpion bowls a la Panda House, at East Coast Grill.  Food was excellent.

Paper flow, outta control.

Senior company exec testified in the Senate alongside an Administration official and industry colleagues.  C-SPAN cameraman yells to me, "Hey buddy, get outta the way--your hair's blocking the shot!"  Can he say that?

The beauty of Washington is that, yeah, so you side with the losing team.  You pay your "dues," and you get yourself back in the clubhouse--it's that simple.  Here's with the then-presumptive chairman of the House energy committee--we're old pals.

Never want to talk to a caterer again.  Raised about $15K for the scholarship fund.

Secretary Mineta et al.

Cover band, Just Five.

Pam and Sean, who obviously partook of the open bar.

Went to visit Diana's ghetto-fab new pad up in Fresh Meadows, Queens.

With her roommie, cousin Hannah.

Are we one happy family or what.

Ginkgo trees on Riggs Place, DC.

Hundreds of schoolkids high on cotton candy: KCPC's anti-pagan Halloween alternative, Fall Festival.

And of course the grownups celebrate with heathen enthusiasm; "zebra" (??), "fall" (??), Juan Valdez/Pancho Villa, Mao or Jong Il or Che, and W's dog walker.  Never understood the deal with white people and costume parties.

A dream come true?  A real-deal Korean restaurant just one block from my apartment.  Went to Mandu opening night, but unfortunately the food was eh.  Keep hope alive.

The local congressman (hat man) visits a division's HQs down in central Va., with the CEO and a VP.

Nominees for the so-called "Academy Awards" of the energy industry, up in New York.  We look ridiculous.

Thanksgiving outing to a fake Cirque du Soleil performance "on ice" (it sucked), on Staten Island.

Atlanta cousins Boreum and Moe.

What's there to do on Stat', you ask?  The world's best "auto spas"--'cuz yaw caw dezervs only da best.

Clay Pit state park, near the Yu compound.

And of course, Kennedy Fried Chicken.

Company Capitol reception, with former Specter colleague Candice, and Huy.

Holiday soiree at Sunita's swanky new digs, with French guy Olivier (showing leg).

Mini-Lebron and Anne at Little Lights' Christmas.

Pastors Hank and Caleb devouring piles of kid-sized Outback steak.

Food!  A small group Christmas.

Gift-wrapped in a Hefty bag, lovely.

Christmas with the fam at the Met Opera.

Diana's wearing makeup!

Went to see "The Magic Flute."  Mozart's a crowd-pleaser, the performance was excellent.

The end.

Japan's greatest contribution to the world, this man should be awarded a Nobel for eradicating hunger among the bachelor class:

The news last Friday of the death of the ramen noodle guy surprised those of us who had never suspected that there was such an individual. It was easy to assume that instant noodle soup was a team invention. But no. Momofuku Ando, who died near Osaka at 96, was looking for cheap, decent food for the working class when he invented ramen noodles all by himself in 1958. His product — fried, dried and sold in little plastic-wrapped bricks or foam cups — turned the company he founded into a global giant. According to the company’s Web site, instant ramen satisfies more than 100 million people a day.

Ramen noodles are a dish of effortless purity. Like the egg, or tea, they attain a state of grace through a marriage with nothing but hot water. After three minutes in a yellow bath, the noodles soften. The pebbly peas and carrot chips turn practically lifelike. A near-weightless assemblage of plastic and foam is transformed into something any college student will recognize as food, for as little as 20 cents a serving.

Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Give him ramen noodles, and you don’t have to teach him anything.

Thank God for instant noodles!!