I’ve Moved!

I’ve moved!!

Things have been a little crazy for me lately, and while I love writing, I found that I kind of hit a roadblock with this blog.  I took a few weeks to think about what I like to write about most, and that gave birth to my new blog:

Painting With Brains

On a site I feel more user-friendly, I’m able to write about all the things I love: Art, teaching, music, and all the crazy things that happen to me on a day-to-day basis.

Please come and check me out!

A Night at the Movies

Indy and I will be celebrating our 4 year anniversary on October 13th.  Very exciting!

Since our engagement, we’ve had several discussions on ways to save money for the wedding/honeymoon (mostly the honeymoon!).  All of our previous anniversaries have been spent in Vermont.  It’s a beautiful state, and close enough for us to get away for the weekend without too much planning/spending/driving.  Fall is Indy’s most favorite season and 90% of why we go to Vermont is for the foliage.

He actually sent me this link today in hopes of enticing me to take an impromptu road trip: Yankee Foliage.  Yeah.  He’s the biggest nerd, ever.

However, Vermont for our 4th year was one of those things we begrudgingly decided to sacrifice in the name of saving money.  I was disappointed, but not nearly as much as he was.  And in addition to no anniversary trip, we also decided: no gifts.

Until today.

As I was opening and sorting a month’s worth of mail into keep/recycle/shred piles, I came across a mailer for the New York Philharmonic.  Indy and I went with a few friends last year to an event there, and it was pretty cool.  Since then, they send one mailer a month- usually for stuff that’s too expensive or just not on our radar.  Except today’s…or, well, actually last month’s….that’s how long it takes us to go thru mail sometimes.  Awful, I know. (I also found our land lord’s PSE&G bill in our pile…Oops!)

The mailer was for this: John Wililams: A Night at the Movies.

Now, I don’t think I’ve actually ever explained why I refer to him as “Indy”- partly because I thought most people would just figure it out.  Indy is obsessed with movies- he owns over 600 DVDs- he watches, on average, 4 movies a week.  Insanity, I know.  The Indiana Jones trilogy is his all-time favorite.  He’s been obsessed with them since he was a kid, and he can pretty much recite them line for line.  I know, I know- between this and the foliage website, I’m painting an amazing picture for you guys.  Yes, I’m willingly marrying this dork.

In addition to his aforementioned nerdy qualities, he listens to classical/orchestral music any chance he gets- especially when he’s studying and doing homework, which as of late, feels like all the time.  He’s spoken about conductor John Williams so frequently and with such adoration, if you didn’t know who John Williams was, you’d assume they were relatives.

John Williams has composed and conducted some little ditties you may or may not be familiar with, like this one.  And this one.  Maybe this one?  Also, my personal favorite, this one.  Also this one.  And this one.  Yeah- that guy.

WELL- when I saw that mailer I saw the name “John Williams” and though- No, that can’t be John Williams…not the John Williams!  But it was!  I quickly hopped online to see what I could find.  The performance is on the 25th of this month, so with little hope, I did some internet scourging and to my delight, it wasn’t sold out!  But to my horror, it was mad expensive!

I didn’t even bother checking the official site for Avery Fisher Hall, because I assumed they’d be an arm and a leg.  I looked on StubHub, and they had a ticket for $115- which is doable, but they only had one.  I ended up on Ticket Liquidator, which had 2 tickets for $228 each….hefty, but worth it.  I went through all the motions and was entering my credit card information when, like all evil online ticket distributors, they added their fees.  It soared to a whopping $555.00 total! I couldn’t do it, internet.  I just couldn’t do it.  Not even for John Williams.  I felt terrible, but that’s a crap load of money for one night! Especially when we’d already established: no gifts.

However, out of hopelessness, I decided to check Avery Fisher Hall’s official site anyway, figuring what the heck? and I was elated to find that not only were they still selling tickets, but they had two front row seats on the second tier for $180 each! That’s about $50 less per ticket!  And even with all that, their fees were a fraction of Ticket Liquidators.  In the end, I got two amazing seats for a total of $370.  That’s a savings of $185!

It was too good a deal to pass up, so I made it happen.  I couldn’t trust myself to keep this secret from him, so I called up Indy at work, who was somehow, completely unaware of the event.  When I told him, he actually couldn’t speak.  He’s so excited!  And in all his wonderfulness, since we decided: no gifts, he’s splitting the cost with me, so it’ll be a gift for both of us, from both of us.

You’d better not die before then, Mr. John Williams. (Indy’s concerned about this.  He actually said to me, ‘It’s so great we’re going now- he’ll be 80 next year, he’ll be dead soon!)  Here’s to the happiest 4 years, ever!

“You’ll Learn to Love It.”

Since I started dating Indy (4 years next month!) he’s lived and died by his DVR.  Before him?  I had never even seen a DVR.  They were like this mythical machine that rich people had, as far as I was concerned.

We’ve been living together since the summer of ’09, and that means that I’ve been living with our DVR for that long.  Honestly- I didn’t even touch it until early 2011.

At first, I hated it.  I couldn’t understand the menu layouts- and for some reason every time I tried to record something, it was in vain.  The damn thing was out to get me.  ”I HATE THIS THING!!!” I’d shout in frustration.  Indy would just say, “You’ll learn to love it.”

He was right.

I’ve become ridiculously busy since school’s started.  I’m up and out the door at 6:30, and don’t get home until around 3:30.  Then I hit the gym for an hour, and 2-3 night s a week I have band practice anywhere from 8-11.   You know, when all the good t.v. shows are on.

And so, the DVR and I have become acquaintances.  The kind of acquaintances where when you meet for the first few times, you’re all, “Ugh, that guy again…” and then after a while you’re like, “I guess he’s not so bad, really…” and a few weeks later you’re all, “Hey, we should hang out some time.”

Indy’s Nature and National Geographic crap takes up about 75% of the DVR at any given time.  But lately, I’ve been bumping him out of room.

So far, I’ve been able to successfully record and watch every episode of this season’s Project Runway, and a few episodes of The Sing Off.  Which- can we talk?

Seriously!?

I can’t believe I didn’t know about this show.  Apparently The Sing Off is in it’s third season.  It’s all about a capella groups, which I love, because I’m the hugest nerd.  And the judges are Ben Folds (my crush) and Sara Bareilles!  Two of my BIGGEST musical loves, ever!  Also some dude from Boyz II Men- represent.  And then you have Nick Lachey as the host….can’t win ‘em all, I guess…

Anyway- I’m learning to love this Mythical Machine for Rich People.  We’ll see how it holds up once The Walking Dead and Bravo’s Work of Art: The Next Great Artist Season 2 begins.

I sense some DVR battles brewing…

The “WOW” Factor.

So after a summer of no television, unfortunately, I’m as unimpressed returning as I was when I gave it up.  With the exception of DVRing Project Runway, I don’t watch anything regularly on T.V. anymore.  (Anxiously awaiting the return of The Walking Dead.)

I’m home relaxing after a long day at school and I’m watching “Four Weddings” on TLC.  I’m no stranger to this crap- I’ve watched it several times before.

One of these nutjobs just described how her “grand” entrance will be. (Yes, she used the word “grand.”)  She’ll pulling up on her out door ceremony space in a horse and carriage.  She then said something to the effect of, “I’m not doing it for the fairy tale aspect, I’m doing it for the wow factor.”

The wow factor?

Oh, you mean like, “Wow. I can’t believe how incredibly understated you are.”

Or something like, “Wow, that horse just took a huge shit.”

Or maybe, “Wow. Is this actually happenening?”

Time for a nap.

Cat Scratch Fever

I love my cats.

I can say this, because I don’t have any other posts in which I reference them, and I only have two.

But sometimes I wish I could trade them in for less destructive models.  Well, when I say “them” I really mean Charlie.

My Charlie.

Don’t be distracted by his good looks.  He’s a costly little bastard.  At three months of age, he ate three feet of his cat teaser toy.  THREE FEET!  Indy and I didn’t realize that until he started to poop it out, at around 11 o’clock on a school night.  A night in the emergency room and a $1,000 medical bill later, he just pooped the rest out.

In addition, he’s taken to tearing up our new furniture.  Our $1,400 furniture.

This is one expensive little jerk.

When we first got Charlie, we didn’t notice the scratching tendancies, becasue we had a hand-me-down couch from my parents, which was micro-suede.  I didn’t realize it then, but Charlie just wasn’t fond of it.  There I was thinking we had the world’s most well behaved kitten (minus the whole ingesting his toys thing).  But I was quickly proven wrong when Indy and I moved into our second apartment and rewarded ourselves with two of these bad boys:

The Scrumtrulescent Trevor Series Love Seat from Bob's Discount Furniture. Be Jealous.

We splurged (yes, splurged.  stop laughing.) on two of these surprisingly comfy love seats from Bob’s Discount Furniture along with two side tables and a coffee table for around $1,400.  We were very happy with our purchase.  And so was Charlie.

Exhibit A

Now, before you get all crazy, this kind of damage took about a year to complete.  Also, although the other arms, legs, sides, and backs of our two loveseats have been hacked at, this is by far the worst of it.

We did everything.  We really did.  We bought books.  We read blogs.  We watched you tube.  We got spray bottles.  We got anti-scratch spray.  We got tall, thick, ropey, textured, EXPENSIVE scratching posts.  We got catnip spray to put on said cat posts.  We even got these:

Soft Claws.

They’re rubber tips that you glue onto your kitty’s nails.  It’s puuuuuurfectly safe.  Don’t worry.  It’s also very fashionable:

Fabulous!

Indy wouldn’t let me put anything other than the boring old clear ones on Charlie.  Personally, I think he would’ve preferred the lime green or bright orange variety, but I guess we’ll never know.

Initially, Charlie took to them pretty well- and these things really work.  However, after a few weeks they fall off, and not all at once.  So you have to be on your A-game, chasing your furry loved one around to check his/her claws often to re-cap as necessary.  Unfortunately, it got to be too much to keep up with, and Charlie wised up.  He quickly decided he didn’t like being manhandled and given a forced manicure, so Indy and I gave up.

Until! I found these lovelies:

Love it.

If you’re asking, “Hey, is that the Surefit chocolate micro-suede love seat cover?”  then I’m saying, “Yes.”

I found these lovelies on Amazon for only $30 each.  We ordered them about two weeks ago, and have been living with them since.

The good news:

-Charlie has zero interest in the micro-suede texture of our slip covers.  He’s been using the scratching posts more than ever, and we haven’t had to spray anything!

-They’re close in color to our original couch, so they don’t clash with our current living room color scheme.

-They’re soft and comfy, and look very nice.

Oooooh!

The Bad News:

-It usually ends up looking something like this:

It's kind of like a mix between The Blob and the Wicked Witch of the West.

Oh well.  You can’t win them all, I guess.

And just because she’s the beacon of why girls rule and boys drool, here’s a photo of our little female, Isis, who behaves all the time, who doesn’t damage our stuff, and who has never had to don a pair of Soft Claws, although, she’d look rad in some pink ones.

Proof that Girls are eternally better than Boys.

Ten Years Ago Today.

Ten years ago today was a beautiful day.

I was a sophomore in high school, and I was very excited.

A boy I had a huge crush on and I had been chatting on the computer most nights.

We had one class together, but had actually never spoke in person.  We were far too shy.

The night of September 10th, we decided that tomorrow would be the day.

We passed each other, every day, just before fourth period out in the courtyard.

I went from the new building to the old, and he from the old to the new.

It was going to be perfect.

Except- it didn’t happen.

Instead, toward the end of my Spanish II class with Mrs. Jahn, two boys were running down the hall, shouting out things I couldn’t understand.  One of them popped his head into our room and said, “A plane just hit the World Trade Center!”  and he disappeared.  We were clueless.  Mrs. Jahn was annoyed, and walked to the door to shut it.  Just then, the second boy popped his head in and said, “A plane hit the buildings!” and ran off.  She shut the door, and we finished our lesson.

The bell rang, and I struggled to make my way from the third floor of the old building, to the third floor of the new building.  The old and new buildings were connected via two long, glass tunnels.  The tunnels were awesome.  When it rained or snowed, you could walk through it all without getting wet.  When it was sunny, you had a beautifully clear view of the New York City skyline.  The tunnels were always crowded.  Especially ten years ago today.

A nervous sophomore, with a pristine record of never being late to any class, I wiggled and squeezed my way past people and backpacks to get to the tunnel, which, for some reason, was more crowded than usual.  And then I saw it- thick, black, billowing smoke.

I made it to my destination: Sculpture with Mr. Kruk.  He was waiting by the door, which was unusual.  When I entered class, I looked through one of the three gigantic floor-to-ceiling windows- the windows that were put in the new building to showcase the magnificent view of the skyline to see this:

That’s when I realized that the World Trade Center and the Twin Towers were the same thing.  I didn’t know that then.

At that time, only the one plane had hit.  I asked Mr. Kruk what was happening, and he said, “A terrible accident.”

The hallways dispersed, and a lot of kids were late.  They were all asking, “What happened? What’s going on?”

Mr. Kruk turned on the radio, and what felt like seconds later, a boy shouted, “THERE’S ANOTHER ONE! ANOTHER ONE JUST HIT!”

We ran to the window, and I saw twice the amount of smoke, and the white tails from the second plane.  It had just hit.  Right at that moment.  And then Mr. Kruk said, “This isn’t an accident.”

There were a few minutes of quiet, of confusion, and then our principal came over the announcements.  He said, “May I have your attention, please.  We are now in a state of lockdown.  No one is to leave your classroom.  If you are in the hallway, find your way to the closest classroom immediately.  Students are not to use the bathroom.  Teachers, please lock your doors until further notice.”

That’s the moment I got scared.  Until right then, it was as if I’d been watching t.v., only through the window.  I didn’t make any sort of connection- that there were people in those planes, that there were people in those buildings, that they were all dead, dying, and in danger.  It just didn’t connect.  I got scared when I realized that something so big was going on, that I wasn’t allowed to go home.

For a while, Mr. Kruk just let us listen to the radio.  I remember the announcer saying that this was in fact, a terrorist attack.

Just after that, he called for our attention and said, “Okay guys.  I have to be honest: I don’t know what’s happening.  My first instinct is to pull the shades, but I don’t feel like this is something I should keep from you.  If you want to work on your projects, you can work in the back of the room.  But if you want to watch this unfold, you can watch.  This is history in the making, and they don’t tell us what to do when this kind of stuff happens.  I don’t know what to do.”

Now, 10 years later, now that I am in Mr. Kruk’s position- I think I would have said the same thing.

Some kids worked, some kids watched, some kids floated around working, then watching.  I was one of those kids.

My group instantly began recalling everyone they knew who worked at the World Trade Center, or in NY at all.  Luckily, none of us knew anyone.  Some were worried about relatives in Hoboken, or Weehawken, but no one was in the city.

That day dragged on.  I remember about a half an hour after the second plane hit, our principal made an announcement that we could use the bathrooms, but only if they were on our floor.  And soon after, I remember him calling out specific names, saying, “Mary Smith, please come to the main office….Joe Miller, please come to the main office…”  Name, by name, by name, kids were going home.  Their mothers and fathers were coming to get them.  That’s when I knew we were in trouble.  Internally, I started to panic.

And then, a boy by the window said, “Something’s happening!”

We all ran to the window, and watched as one of the towers silently, and seemingly in slow motion, shrunk behind the trees on our football field.  It looked as if some invisible thumb was pressing it down, almost gently, into the ground.  At first, there was no smoke- and then thick billows of white smoke.  You could actually see a trail from the earlier black, then gray, and now white smoke.

No one said anything.  I remember thinking, “Well, that’s obviously not real.”  It was so strange.  It seemed much more real on the television coverage I watched in the days and weeks to follow at home.  It was silent.  It was soft.

This time, I stayed by the window.  And when the second tower fell, that same boy said, “There it goes.”

We all stared in silence.

I don’t remember the rest of that day.  I can’t remember if we stayed until 2:30, or if they let us go home early.  I can’t remember what the next day was like.

Even now, 10 years later, it’s really hard for me to make the connection that those planes were filled with people, and that I watched as they all disappeared.  I watched in real time.  I had a front row seat.  Even now, I think of it as buildings, not people.  I wonder if that’s a self defense mechanism, or if it’s just the way that I saw it.

Like everyone else, I can’t believe it’s been 10 years.  Since it happened, the roles have reversed.  I’m the teacher now.  2001 was before I ever had my first boyfriend, and in less than a year I’m getting married.  My children will never know a world before the intense airport security, or the color-coated terrorist threat system.

When I got home that night, I was online, chatting, of course, with the boy that I had that huge crush on.  At one point he said, “You know why this happened, right?”  I asked, “Why?”  and said, “Because we were actually going to talk today.”

For some reason I always think of that when reminiscing about where I was on 9/11.  It was sweet.  We were children.

Letter 30 – Your Reflection

Dear Reflection,

I had a hard time looking at you when I was younger- I think everyone does.  And while lately I haven’t had much time to actually see and not just look, I know that I’m happy with what’s there.  Physically there’s always something to fix- to change- to improve.  But I’m proud of what’s behind my face.  I don’t need to look as often, because I know what’s there.

Love,

VVednesday

Letter 29 – The Person That You Want To Tell Everything To, But Are Too Afraid To

Dear Neighbor,

I’d like to tell you everything- not so much in that “here’s my deepest, darkest secret” kind of way- but more in that, “I want to be your friend, you need to hear this” kind of way.

You could be great.  You could be fun.  You could be amazing, but you won’t let it happen. Something- or someone- is holding you back, and it’s become increasingly difficult to watch.  Sometimes I feel like you’re two people, and I can imagine that gets very hard.  I hope, for your sake, you can let go of whatever it is that’s made you so cynical, so full of doubt, so unmotivated, and start being happy.  I’d like to be able to call you a friend.

Love,

VVednesday

Letter 28 – Someone That Changed Your Life

Dear Ben Jones,

Congratulations on your retirement.  I got the invite, but won’t be attending.

I was terrified of you.  So much so, that I spent nearly $3,000 to take one course at a different University just to avoid you.  In the end, I couldn’t make it happen, and I had to take your class before graduating.

It was the single most amazing and horrifying thing I’ve ever done.

I’d like to believe that I had most of my drive and determination before taking your course, but I definitely think you changed me.  I also became a perfectionist, with no tolerance for wasted time, or bullshit.  And I lost about 10 pounds from stress alone.  Sometimes I’m still a perfectionist with no tolerance for wasted time, or bullshit (+ the 10 pounds) and I have you to thank.

I can’t believe it’s been three years since then, but you’ve become my benchmark.  Someone will say, “Oh, this is impossible…” And I think, “But is it Ben Jones impossible?”  Someone else will say, “This guy’s insane!” And I’ll think, “Ben-Jones-insane?”

Now that I’m teaching, I often use you as an example in class.  I talk about your unrealistic level of expectations, your complete lack of patience, and your volatile temper.  At the time I hated you.  Despised you completely.  Wished terrible things on you.  And now, I’m thankful.

Love,

VVednesday

Letter 27 – The Friendliest Person You Knew for Only a Day

Dear Patrick,

I’m pretty sure that was your name.  I met you at Michael’s Arts & Crafts store a few weeks ago.  You were so polite!  You asked me how my day was, but were actually interested in my response.  We had a conversation!  You gave me some great suggestions about projects to keep in mind and told me to have a really great day and enjoy my weekend.

Compared to the usual grumpy old ladies who work at that store, you were a breath of fresh air.

I hope you’re still there the next time I check out.

Love,

VVednesday