A few weeks ago, I was messaged on Facebook by my friend Broadsheet, who wanted to know my address in DC. She was attending various wine-related activities in California and was unable to ship said wine to her house and wondered if I would be good enough to act as a wine mule. Well, of course! Because that’s the kind of friend I am (plus, she brought me a case of Natty Boh, which fills my “cheap beer” grocery requirement).

After lunch at Matchbox — I had the spicy meatball pizza, it was quite delicious, but as with everything in DC, a little pricey — we went down to the National Mall to visit the National Museums of American and Natural History.

Enroute to the museums, cutting through the National Gallery of Art’s sculpture garden, Broadsheet remarked that this sculpture “looks like a vagina.” She’s a trip.

I don’t like the remodeled American History museum. I miss the pendulum. I miss seeing the flag when you first walk into the museum, although I understand why it had to be removed. I think the staircase is ugly. I guess I’m probably over-attached to the museum as I remember it as a kid.

All in all, it was a fun — and oddly exhausting — day.