Story time!
So at the beginning of my sophomore year at GW, I received the results of my recent genetic test. For years, I had wanted to test my DNA, but given the fact that it wouldn't help me find any members of my birth family, we canned the idea. Plus it was super expensive.
But then, using my cunning skills of persuasion, I pointed out that a genetic test would be beneficial, as I have no clue if I am predisposed to any heart conditions, or anything else that could be genetic. We sent for the kit, and when we mailed it back to them, they got to keep my token of gratitude: a test tube full of my spit. Lovely.
Anyway, this story has a point. The site "guesses" what you look like based on your DNA. And it was freakily correct: brown-haired, straight hair with "body," brown eyes, blah blah blah. All stuff I could easily tell by just looking at my face in a mirror. But interesting, it also had a category titled "Reaction to Alcohol."
Well, isn't that just a hangover the next morning? Oh, and regret, I suppose.
But no. Because a lot of Asians' faces will flush when they drink alcohol. That's what the category was referring to. And we got a confirmation last night:
Basically, it's like having a flashing, neon sign glued to my forehead that says, "I'M DRUNK, WORLD." Except... I wasn't. I had one glass of champagne, and I'm pretty sure even a lightweight like me can't get drunk off of one flute. This is just unfair.
On a brighter-than-an-Asian's-cheeks note, we went to the Louvre today. I showed my mom all of my favorite sights, including (of course) the Mona Lisa. I served as the chatty audio guide, saying very professional things such as:
"And then the pope was like, 'Sorry, we have to can this project.' And Michelangelo was pissed. He was all, 'Screw you, I'm never working for you again,' and went into self-exile in Florence. And the Florentines were like, 'We don't want to get excommunicated, so go make nice with the pope.' They even wrote him a letter of recommendation."
"Da Vinci would kind of be the modern-day equivalent of those hipster art students with ADD. Raphael was star quarterback because he was popular only because he was nice. And Michelangelo would be Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club." ("Oh, so like you?" my mom added.)
"So Psyche got in trouble all because she tried to see what her mysterious husband looked like after he fell asleep. I mean, personally, I would like to see the face of the father of my child, as well, but nooooo, she gets in trouble for looking."
"It is clear the sculptor was getting lazy here. Look at the terrible detail on Venus de Milo from this angle."
"Akhenaten, according to John Green, was hated because he was like the Kim Jong Un of Egypt. He may have had a genetic disorder that made his face look weird like that. Or he may have just been trying to mess with future historians. It's all up in the air."
"This fresco appears to be important. There's always tour groups around it. Oh, it's by Botticelli. I should've noticed that. Then again, I'm a jerk who likes to trick people into thinking non-famous art is famous, so I guess I deserve it."
"Wait, were snuffboxes for drugs?!"
Mom has all the good pictures. Here are some:
Snuffbox decorated with fruit.
Harpsichord--NOT a piano. Frankly, though, the noise it makes sounds like a banjo, which I don't think is a great thing.
I guess this was the only way they could get men to read the cuneiform/hieroglyphics/I-can't-remember-the-writing. Sorry for the dig, guys, but I don't have a better caption.
Sacre bleu! Get it? Because "bleu" means "blue"? Nope? It's just my corny Dad Joke humor? Alright, moving on.
Clearly the Egyptians got it right with the fascination with cats.
Centuries-old pigeon sculpture.
Mona and Mom
Frise formerly housed at the Parthenon.
Tomorrow we have a big day planned! We'll be rising early, and I know the whole family is laughing at that notion, but we will try our best. :) Build some snowmen, Connecticans!
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