Dear Diary: I have spent today in Jordan as the guest of King Abdullah. I found the city of Petra fascinating. It's carved from stone, somewhat like Mount Rushmore except, instead of faces of presidents, Petra is a secret town carved into orange-brown sandstone. As I walked through it I found myself wondering if there is enough room on Mount Rushmore for one more face. Some people have rightly suggested that I deserve to be represented there, but they cruelly questioned if there was enough rock-face left to accommodate my ears. All the official handshaking had made me nervous. When everybody was looking upwards at the carved doors and windows, I took a quick squirt of Purrell sanitizer from Marvin Nicholson's pocket and rubbed it over my fingers. I'm not good at shaking hands with strangers, particularly Arabs --whose ablution rituals I don't fully understand. Soon I will re-board Air Force One and be safely on my way home, back to the comforts of DC and the White House kitchen. Sob! I even miss Michelle's broccoli. But enough about me...
