Christmas 2011: My Brother vs. Elephant Seal

Christmas is a time to reflect on the important things in life. Naturally, on Christmas morning, my family gathered around the dining table while my little brother (now a grown man) argued that he could kill an elephant seal with his bare hands. Here is a summary of his (actual) talking points:

1) Running
According to my brother, elephant seals have a "maximum land speed of 5 miles/hour." He recommends sprinting away and having it chase you to tire it out before engaging it in combat. I applaud the fact that his first move in a fight is to run away.

2) Poor turning radius
Run in a circle around the seal, then brace yourself behind it. Because of its "poor turning radius," (said with the passion of someone who had personally measured it) it will be unable to attack. This would be the perfect time to trash-talk the seal, i.e. "Hey, elephant seal! Yo momma so fat she easily survived the winter with a adequate insulation of blubber!" [there may be some translation error]

3) Poke eyes
My brother then instructs to poke out its eyes from behind. Much like hurricanes and small children, the elephant seals' eyes are its weakest point.

4) Speed over power
He argues that while the seal is more powerful, he is faster. He makes an analogy to Dragonball Z, but since my Nerd Licence expired back in 2006, I didn't quite understand what this had to do with him poking a seal in the eye with his fingers.

5) Confounding factors
My brother grants that, in a cage match, the elephant seal is likely to win due to the confined space.

All of this took place over the course of half an hour. On Christmas.

My response: "Here's why you would lose to an elephant seal: Oh, no! It's too late! It's already killed you."

My mom's response: "This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

A Tour of the Family Manor

My friends are always asking me, "Sai, tell me more about your humble upbringing." After I punch them in the throat and tell them they can't tell me what to do, I lean back in my rocking chair, take off my straw hat, and chew on a piece of hay, and I tell them of my mansion in Topeka, KS.

It is a simple home, with ABSOLUTELY NO HISTORY OF GRUESOME MURDERS/HAUNTINGS. You can't prove any of those skeletons were human. Anyway, the house is full of many lovely amenities, including locks conveniently placed on the outside of the doors of each of the bedrooms, allowing the extra rooms to be rented out as a combination Bed and Breakfast/Minor Security Prison.

Pictured above: The dining room is joined with the kitchen, which allows the residents of the manor to watch over their food preparation by the servants. This is particularly helpful if your waitstaff is not to be trusted and you fear a violent, class-based insurrection.

The backyard is spacious with handy rain-warning system for the weather-conscious owner. If it begins to rain heavily, the pipes burst instantly, flooding the basement, warning the occupant to bring an umbrella before going outside.

Pictured above: The living room is nicknamed "The Den" because of its cozy couches. And the den of foxes that feed off table scraps and visiting children.

So, if you are ever in the neighborhood or are a white-collar criminal, come on down!

Pictured above: Welcome...to elegance!

Thanksgiving Family Portrait

Pictured above: My family rules.

Mom's in Town!

Oh, are you upset that this post is a little late? Well, it was because I was hanging out with my mom. Hold onto your seats, because she got the party started.

Pictured above: And by "party," I mean we doubled-down and ordered both cow tendons and octopus balls. Yeah, we were makin' it RAIN tendons.

After we were done eating, we decided to go for a walk and burn off some of those calories. Just kidding, we got deep fried Asian snacks!

Pictured above: Aw, yeah. We've got satay and rangoon SWAG.

Then, we celebrated my older brother's birthday with a simple, tasteful cake. NOOOOPE!

Pictured above: Fondant designed sushi on triple-layered, chocolate-peanut-butter cake. I'll be honest; I was disappointed that the whole thing wasn't dipped in batter and deep-fried. But there's always next year.

The Year: In Memoriam (2010-2010)

At only a year old, the year is already gone. Many of us will mourn the passing of 2010, but others know that it was just its time. On this, its last day, I remember some highlights from the break.

The holiday means something special to my family. And by "special," I mean weird. On Christmas day, in honor of the food that had been and will be eaten, my mother took my brother and I on a blistery power-walk through the Shunganunga (its actual name) Park of Topeka. Although my brother and I initially complained at the prospect of "physical activity", it did give us time to work on our respective swaggers.

Pictured above: Haters gon' hate.

Afterwards, we gorged on the finest foodstuffs Kansas had to offer: Panera Bread. For those unfamiliar with the chain, everything is served out of a bread bowl, including the soup, coffee, and your receipt. Veterans like us know that the bowls do not always have to be eaten, and in fact can also double as festive bread hats. These can be re-used for future bread-themed parties.

Pictured above: My brother enjoying his two favorite things: eating and stabbing himself in the hand with a knife.

Then, we all went home to give each other gifts. I presented my brother with his 1st bow tie and my mother with her 145th and 146th scarves. As expected, I received gifts akin to my new lifestyle: socks, undershirts, pocket squares, and men's jewelry. As a 60-year-old man trapped in the body of a 22-year-old, I was ecstatic.

Pictured above: Pocket squares, cufflinks, and collar clips, also known as The Gentleman's Trifecta.

Happy New Year, internet.

A Very Kansas Christmas Eve

Just like all of the other medical students around the country, I have begun my annual migration towards my home far-away for the holiday season. Similar to the green sea turtles, we travel hundreds or thousands of miles back to where we hatched. And like these great reptiles, many of us will probably be eaten by seagulls or get stuck in traffic.

My journey started at O'Hare Airport, where I dined on authentic Chicago cuisine for the last time before my trip. It would have to last me nearly a week.

Pictured above: The cookies were homemade, but the coffee was brewed with the disdain of Chicago's finest minimum-wage employees.

As I waited for my flight at the gate, a lady probably in her late twenties sat across from me. As I was in dire need of practice talking to such women, I engaged her. Here is an abridged version of our conversation.

ME: Nice glasses.
LADY: Got them in Europe.
ME: I have heard of Europe. Living in Chicago?
LADY: New York.
ME: Graduate school?
LADY: Art History.
ME: Medical school.
LADY: Unimpressed. Mundane city talk.
[Now boarding]
ME: Enjoy your glasses.

All in all, I give it a C+ for conversation, though I was very proud of my actual parting line "Enjoy your glasses." Apparently, she did not find this nonsense phrase very amusing. I boarded the plane and, on the walkway, had this conversation with an elderly gentleman.

[MAN stops to tie his shoe. I stand behind him awkwardly, not wanting to cut in line.]
MAN: Oh, you can go ahead.
ME: Sorry, I didn't know how touchy you would be if I cut in front of you.
MAN: [laughs] Don't worry.
ME: It's just that I've been trying not to get into fistfights in walkways anymore.

The plane ride itself was largely uneventful.

Pictured above: The view from my aisle seat.

I even put out a symbolic flag for those around me, to let them know how elitist and sophisticated I was.

Pictured above: I'm reading David Sedaris. He is not a comedian, he is a humorist. He is also gay. Can't you see how interesting I am?

Once I arrived in Kansas City, my odyssey was nearly complete. My driver/mother was a few minutes late, but this is just what you get when you let the mothers unionize.

Pictured above: The Kansas City Airport was full of both hustle and bustle.

Now it is Christmas Eve, and as the frozen rain falls upon these Topeka streets, I realize that I had forgotten to pack my holiday tie. Tragedy befalls me yet again.