Quarter Mil

I just had a very strange conversation with a barista. The talk turned mildly political, and I remarked something about it being a polarizing election in 2008.

Barista: Yeah, I didn't like any of the candidates. But in the end I voted for the Republican side.
Me: Oh. Okay.
Barista: In the end, I decided I had to vote against the taxes.
Me: Taxes? Hm. Do you make more than $250,000 a year?
Barista: Well, no. But my dad does.
Me: I see.

Anyway, the conversation went on, culminating in my blinking, staring, dumb-struck at this statement: "Two hundred fifty thousand dollars just doesn't go as far as people think."

Um. Wow.

On Airplanes

Ryan,

I can't stop listening to this song. Don't tell anyone.

Thanks,

Stan

Optimus

Hey, neat. Today's date is a prime number written either day-month or month-day: 197 or 719.

That is all.

Dairy Dental

I don't think I'd ever heard the phrase "milk teeth" until today. Noted.

The Letter Thing Might Be Getting Old, Ryan; I'm Not Sure

Dear Ryan,

I support your clotheslining ways. I used to have to dry clothes that way in Madrid in August. Luckily, it's holy shit fucking hell hot in Madrid in August, so your clothes dry outside in fourteen seconds. (I'm exaggerating, Ryan. It's actually fifteen seconds.)

You know what no one gets tired of? Talking about the weather. Even I am guilty. My new obsession, thanks in part to this discussion is…dew point! I've learned that anything above 60° makes me feel vaguely uncomfortable; over 70° is flat-out stifling. Dew point! Find out yours today.

I'm going to watch the World Cup final tomorrow. I think I'm rooting for España on the flimsiest of well-I-used-to-live-there-if-briefly justifications, but really, I'm just hoping for a good game.

Churros,

Stanley

Letter to Stan, 3

Stanley,
About two months ago I bought a clothesline and some clothespins and started drying all my clothes outside in the sun. I did this because I hoped it would remind me a bit of living in New Zealand, where they scorn the drying machine, and where I really enjoyed the chore of hanging my clothes out. I don't know why.
It is now a wonderful part of my day. Each morning, I wander outside in my boxers or a towel, pick out what I'm going to wear, and snatch the pieces off the line. It helps that it hasn't been raining often. But even when it does, the sun always comes out again, and if my socks get rained on really it's just like they're even cleaner afterward.
I get made fun of for this. Fuck 'em all, Stanley, 'cause I like it.
-Ryan