Our Very Own Boo Radley

The Deseret News reported, "Marty Bone will be sleeping alone."

Every neighborhood needs a Boo Radley. Childhood isn't complete without daring your friends to go past (or into) the scary house on the corner, and the subsequent terror of running for your life, looking back to see whether or not you got caught.

In our neighborhood, it was the snake man. This man had lots of different snakes, but his favorite was an 18-foot-long Burmese python named Julius Squeezer. Marty Bone's amazing python (who apparently slept with him... I'll be up tonight thinking of all the different ways that is soooo wrong) lived to be 43 years old, a record in the python world. Normally, they live to be 20 or 30, and the previous world record for longevity was 33 years. Bone says that "the difference was all the love he gave to the snake."

His mother said, "Snakes are his life." Indeed, he's had snakes named Poly Grip, Alexander the Grip, and Annie Green Squeeze. He hollowed out one side of his couch so Julius (a female, oddly) could sit there with him. This is where he taught her to watch tv.

Bone used to take his snakes out to his front lawn to "exercise" them. Completely unexpectedly, (I am sure) Julius, who is longer than my NYC apartment, escaped...four times. I remember this vividly, as we were all terrified of running into her. Once she was found in my neighbor's back yard. She also escaped from the pound at least once. How did she do this? Well, she could open doors by draping her 220-lb body over the doorknob then slithering inside. Safe. Real safe. As if it isn't terrifying enough to be in the presence of a huuuuge python. Now it can open doors too.

Well, although Bone was charged with 3 Class B misdemeanors following some of Squeezer's antics, he insisted that she was never a danger to humans. He insisted, "Burmese pythons are real lovable. They have personalities and they bind one on one... You could see a smile on her face." Yes, the smile of knowing that you could run but couldn't hide. After all, she could open your door.

So, even though Julius Squeezer was a terrifying, nightmare-inducing neighborhood menace that we used to dare each other to touch, I do after all have to feel a little sorry for Marty Bone for losing his "main squeeze." And for the fact that the love of his life is a snake.

You Know You're In Boulder When...

I'm taking a 3:00 am break from the magical world of Saint-Saens's symphonic poems to share with you the reasons Boulder is awesome... or at least like being dropped inside a fitness magazine run by Joan Baez.

1. My friend Abby told me that the other day, when we had a good 14 inches of snow, she came out of her apartment at 9:00. None of the streets had been cleared yet. However, the bike path was cleared all the way down.
*That same day, I was driving home through the blizzard, and I saw this 60-something year old man on his bike, looking like nothing was wrong. I beg to differ. There is something very, very wrong.

2. My friend Kristy and I went to dinner about a week ago. We went to pull into a parking spot, and this is what we saw... Yep, unless you are fueling your car with canola oil, you cannot park in that spot. I must say, living here in Boulder is making me feel like a schmuck. It's pretty hard to feel like a good person around 65 year old men who are biking through blizzards just so that they can get to the nearest recycling center then go save some whales. Or penguins, or something.
Oh well. I'm going to go eat some meat now then drive to school so that I can sit around all day and never work out.

Weird Things I've Seen Lately

So, tonight I went out to eat with my friend, Kim. It was overall a pretty awesome meal. TMI alert: Afterwards, my friend went to use the loo. And this is what she found:

So weird. I mean, it's pretty generally accepted that women flock to bathrooms in groups, but this is just ridiculous. There cannot be any satisfactory explanation for this.

And here, on the right, we have the "Mooflower." Yep, that's a representation of the famous pilgrim ship growing out the back of a...cow. At Plimoth Plantation. For reals. But it has me thinking, what a wonderful world we live in that there is a Mooflower!

I Know What You Did Last Month...

Warning: this blog post is only for those over 11.

So, apparently I'm a horrible person. But at least I'm in good company... see, last month, I totally ruined a kid. At Disneyland. My sister-in-law and I were standing in the loooong line at the Indiana Jones ride, and we got to talking about how much we love the Magic Kingdom. She mentioned how sad she was the day that she figured out it wasn't really magic. I responded by saying, "Yeah, it's like figuring out your parents have been lying to you about Santa Claus." Well... although we thought we were being quiet, about 5 minutes into this conversation, I saw a VERY traumatized-looking 10 year old boy standing awfully close to us. Yep. Heard every word. My sis-in-law and I realized our mistake at the same time, and she wrapped things up by saying, "Well, at least Santa's real." A noble attempt, but the damage was definitely already done. So yeah, we shattered a kid's hopes and dreams about Santa and Disneyland... all on the same day. Whoops.

Quarter of a Century

I just turned 25, which, as a friend informs me, entitles me to a quarter-life crisis. Apparently my trip to Disneyland doesn't count, so I need some ideas. After all, it's only three or four times in your life when you are fully justified in acting like an idiot. What do you think my quarter-life crisis should be?

Snow Day!

Remember when you were little and it snowed a lot and they cancelled school? We used to get up super early and watch the news, praying that we wouldn't be able to get to class. Then, when it was cancelled, we stayed inside sipping hot cocoa, then played in the yard, digging out snow caves, building snowmen, then going inside to watch movies and play games.

Best days ever.

So, it turns out that nothing much has changed for me. I got up this morning, sorely disappointed that school wasn't cancelled. I went to quartet rehearsal and then suddenly, we got the call. Campus closed at 2:00! I promptly went home, put on pajamas, turned on my lovely fireplace, watched Gilmore Girls and ate all sorts of junk food. It was delightful. I'm such a fan of snow days.

I Try So Hard...

...to stay on the straight and narrow. Tonight= utter failure. It all started when we set up a small house concert for some friends of our teachers. When we showed up at 5:30, my 2nd violinist and I immediately groaned... drat! A cat. We are both super allergic, and so our 1st violinist gave us both an Allegra, which he takes for his allergies. About 20 minutes later, my heart started racing and things got blurry. Then I started giggling uncontrollably. Then I started crying, then giggling again. My quartet-mates began to be concerned when I stopped being able to stand up straight without swaying, and my eyes got really bloodshot. And then we played a concert. For total strangers. And my teacher who I hadn't seen in a month. Who were sitting three feet away. Wow. Then we mingled and I had to answer questions that were barely making sense to me. I really hope I didn't say anything too weird, but I have no idea. As we were deciding whether or not I was safe to drive home, I sobered up a bit and just got really tired. Don't worry, this blog post is proof I made it home. However, everyone in my quartet, as well as my viola teacher and academic advisor, have decided it's rather hilarious that I played a concert high as a kite tonight, so I don't think this will die down anytime soon. Well, at least I stayed away from the champagne!

Inspiration Hits

From now on, I'm doing things the John Cage way. Who is John Cage, you ask? Well, he was a 20th C composer who is famous for such works as 4' 33", where the performer comes out, sits down, and proceeds to sit in silence for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Cage also pioneered the experimental composition techniques of flipping coins and drawing things out of hats to see what happens next in the piece. One of his pieces is a continual organ piece written for a small church in Germany. The piece is to last for 100 years, and it consists of someone coming in and pressing a key on the organ every few days. The organ keeps playing that until the next switch.

So basically, John Cage is the Andy Warhol of music, and I am not a fan. At all, really. I have, however, recently decided he was on to something. There are just too many decisions to make each day, and my brain is tired. Thus, I hereby relinquish any responsibility my brain has to make said decisions. From here on out, it's John Cage, baby. Really, I think this could work. For instance, I wake up in the morning: what do I eat? Answer: Open the cupboard, close my eyes, and eat whatever my hands touch first. Another-- where do I go on vacation? Answer: Write "left," "right," and "straight" on 3 pieces of paper. Draw at each intersection and go wherever the fates take you. I've already tested this method several times, mostly with good results. Also, I'm thinking the 4' 33" principle could be applied to many situations: bad dates, boring classes, lessons where I want to appear intimidating.

Yep, it's going to be a whole new world.

Lately

1. My gmail theme is ninjas. They are awesome.
2. Today I saw a man dressed as a chicken, skateboarding across the street while wildly waving a sign saying "Halloween Megastore."
3. The movie "Babe" came up in two completely different conversations with two completely different sets of people in one day the other day.

20 Years of Musical Training

Today I spent three hours playing random noises into a microphone while a computer guy manipulated my viola's random sounds on his laptop to sound like other random sounds. I'm so glad I'm doing something good with my life.

Riting Skillz

So, a few years ago, at the instigation of my good friend Lady L, (you know who you are!) I began writing a musical called "How to be a Villain," based off Neil Zawaki's book of the same name. In it, each character parodies a well-known character from existing musicals, and they sing and dance about to song. Because that's what they do in musicals. (10 points if you can tell me the reference for the last two sentences!) Anyway, my parodies have gained in popularity, as in, now a whole 10 people know and like them, and they've found a proponent in the form of J.A. This summer I received an email from a middle school music teacher, friend to said J.A., asking if she could use my words in her upcoming school concert... in Colorado! Crazy. We struck a deal, and she's going to have her kids sing them sometime this year. I'm even getting paid a little bit for it! That's awesome, because I couldn't actually publish anything without getting sued, probably. So I guess the moral of this particular story is that obnoxious round objects get the attention.

Back By Popular Demand...

Remember many months ago when I had a series running through the blog of "How to's"? Well, in light of recent events I feel compelled to bring back this series, starting with...

How to craft a disscompliment:

What is a disscompliment, you say? It is the ever-useful, very special art of forming your words in just such a way as to make someone feel complimented and completely eviscerated at the same time. You all have met, I am sure, some staunch supporters of this type of wordcraft. They can be found in every classroom, workplace, and grocery store. Real connosseurs of this type of wordsmithing can carry on the process undetected until later, when the receivers have a strange mix of conflicting emotions to carry through the day.

So here are some prime examples of this subtle syntax:

1. "Wow, you are much better than I thought you were! I wasn't sure how you played when I heard you before, but I'm so pleased! You are so much better than I thought!"
2. "You look so put together today! What is the special occasion?"
3. "You know what I like about you? How comfortable you are with just being yourself. You really don't care what others think, do you? It's great to see someone who can just be weird without caring."

etc.
Any questions? It's now your turn...

Mariachi Mama

It's official... school is in session, and I am a doctoral candidate. So. Weird. I don't feel nearly old enough to be getting my DMA, and to prove it, I'm planning on spending my upcoming landmark birthday at Disneyland, pretending I'm still six. Shouldn't be too hard, as that's about where my maturity level is these days.

A lot of you have asked me what my program entails, so I will enlighten you. Today I rehearsed with my quartet, met with the dean to talk about art history (I mean... my program...cough cough), chatted in hallways, ate lunch, and then went to mariachi practice. That's right... I said mariachi. What else would provide such a perfect foil for those long hours of Beethoven and Ligetti? The whole quartet is in the class (that's right, I'm getting credit!), so it should be downright awesome. Or, as they say, realmente impresionante. On other days, it looks like I will attend my one class and rehearse with my quartet. Some more. So you see, it's a tough program, and you should all take me very very seriously. See that you do.

On This...My 71st Post

...begins a new adventure. This is where I live now:

A Generous Gift

So, I was at Neil's Fish 'n Chips with my dad the other night. This old man walks up to me and says it's so nice to see a young woman enjoying a meal with her father that he'd like to give me a present... a washer and dryer!!! In fact, he liked me so much he gave me two sets! Here's a picture of his generous gift.

A New Haiku For You

Summer
I have found a dime
And a nickel and penny,
But where is my brain?

Top 10 Things I Saw Last Year

I'm moving on to a new life phase, and it's been quite a year, (speaking in the "revolves around school" sense), and so I'd like to do a little review...*

10. Niagara Falls. I'd put this higher, but it's the 2nd time I've seen it. This time, it was from the USA side, and we went on the "Maid of the Mist," which was awesome. This is an incredible natural wonder, and I highly recommend it to anyone.

9. I conducted once again in Maine. (sigh, I heart Maine) It was kind of awkward and really pretty hilarious, but it was nice to see the support of those around me. All the conductors got a kick out of my attempt, and I remembered once again that it's cool for me to do that... once a year.

8. I got to spend all sorts of time at the Smithsonian this year. Some highlights included Abraham Lincoln's special exhibit, Julia Child's kitchen, Kermit the Frog, the Star-spangled banner itself, WWII propoganda posters, and Whistler's Peacock Room. I love DC, by the way, and the last trip included the bonus of seeing my friend Alexis get married and seeing my old friends Ashley and Stuart. Pretty great trip!

7. Florida. Oranges off trees. Golfing. Golf carts. Massages. Gourmet cooking. Quartet.

6. Above all else, I will miss the art and the Park in NYC. I spent many, many hours walking through Central Park towards Museum Mile last year. On one of my last days, I went to the Met Museum, and I cried because I had to leave it. I still get monthly emails from the MoMA, and it makes my heart frowny that I can't be there. [sigh]

5. I went to see "A Man For All Seasons" on the second night of the run. My friend got me an amazing ticket, and we both absolutely loved it. Frank Langela was the lead, and it was a stirring, thought-provoking performance. Broadway is one thing I'll definitely miss about NYC.

4. Juilliard Commencement. I'm done. [insert smiles and rainbows here]

3. Tesla Quartet premier recital in Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center. Big doin's, and it was a fantastic experience.

2. Have I mentioned how much I love Maine? After spending three delightful weeks there, I spent another several days traveling down the coast, from Bar Harbor (pronounced bah-ha-bah) to Boston. The coast is amazing, and we saw things like Plymouth Rock and lighthouses and ate lobster and stuff. All good.

1. I kind of really sort of absolutely love my family. So, enter the cheese, they have to go at the top of the list. As much as I travel, I love coming home the best, especially when everyone is there. I'm lucky to have them.

*The order of these things is subject to subjectivity. The order does not necessarily reflect the views of the author or readership.

I'm On A Bus...

...And I'm blogging. Technology...what will they think of next? I know, I know... join the 21st century, Megan. But, I've been in the backwoods of Maine for the last month, so it's understandably weird for me, right?

Excuses over. Now to the serious business. First, an update. FactMan is now better known as my morally-beklemmt alter-ego. I've seen the softer side of Brawny, now that he has learned to use his words, at least with me. As for the Mouse House... the mice, moths, carpenter ants, and spiders continued to bug us up till the last. Anyone know what kind of spider has a round, black body with a white dot on it? I saw one two days ago, and I'm pretty sure it's poisonous. I decided not to pursue it until after leaving, though.

In the past four days I have seen Plymouth Rock, the Mayflower, Bar Harbor, Acadia National Park, Katherine, a sign that says "Unattended children will be given cookies and a kitten," The Pants Family, Boston, and lots and lots and lots of kitchy stores. It was a great road trip!

Next stop, Utah then Colorado!

*Correction: The sign actually said, "Unattended children will be given espresso and a free kitten." Even better.

An Update

1. Things in the mouse house have gotten furry. There are tails of all-out war. Some have taken the bait, some have not. There has been carnage. There has been cleaning and tenting and mothballing. There have been poop-free periods of rest, and there have been days of gory glory. The mortality rate is high, but still they keep on coming. The bionic mouse leader keeps coming back for more. So far us=4, mice=400. We are determined though... and creative. And slowly feeling a lot less bad for defending our turf. Seriously, it's like the Jets and the Sharks in there.

2. FactMan has a new catchphrase... after he says "and that's a fact!" he says, "Google it." I like it. We're still encouraging Brawny to "use his words, not his fists."

the Maine Event

Hello from Maine! I'm in residence at the Conductors' Retreat at Medomak right now, and I'm enjoying this lovely state. Or at least I would be if it would warm up. While things rarely go as anticipated, it's been a very...um...interesting beginning to these three weeks.

Interesting factoid #1: My friend Yuki and I are staying in what has affectionately been dubbed the "Mouse House." Sleep has eluded me for a couple of nights because of the scurrying, pooping little critters, and we had two caught in traps this morning. Yuck. Thankfully, our friend Chris came to the rescue and emptied the traps for us. Bless him and his kind soul.

Interesting factoid #2: I have come up with comic-book character nicknames for two of the musicians. They are FACTMAN!!! and Brawny. Fact Man has the brains, and he tells us super fly factoids whenever we ask. He fights the power of his arch nemesis, Brawny the Pumping Iron Man, with knowledge. And that's a fact. Brawny prefers brute strength, but he tends to have 'roid rage, brought on by his addiction to peanut butter (gotta have his protein). There will be more on them later. Trust me.

Anyway, I have to go rehearse. I'm supposed to be practicing right now. Oops?

New News

So, yesterday I signed away my life and bought... a car. It is a 2009 Hyundai Elantra GLS. Now, don't get me wrong; I love my new car, and I got a great deal on it, and all that. BUT. I have the sinking feeling that I'm never going to finish paying it off. I don't love that feeling, to be honest. Anyway, looking forward, I need to name my car. I would appreciate name suggestions from you all, so here are some pics of my new friend. If you come up with the name I use, then I will be very grateful, and I may even make you a treat.

Ack! Eek! Ewwwww!

I went by South Davis Jr. High, and on their billboard thing (what ARE those things called!?!), there was a sign that filled me with what can only be described as the heebie-jeebies. It said, "pieces of original gym floor for sale." Yu-uck. Just thinking about the hundreds of stinky, smelly, sweaty, teenage feet that have tromped all over that floor makes me squirm endlessly. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.

Ew.

Awwww

My thirteen-year-0ld nephew told me today that he thinks I'm going to be a good mom. I've been babysitting for three days, so I'll take that as a compliment.

For You Who Have Grilled Me About My Absence

Sorry I've been absent from writing lately. You see I've been in a real pickle, moving across the country. Traffic jams, airport flight deLays, and hot dog! The chips have been down. I have been playing ant to my nieces, which just fried me. But now that I've arrived in Utah, I've mustard up the energy to ketchup on my blogging once again. It should be a real picnic. But don't worry... I'm not going to get all campy on you. Well, maybe just a little. Anyway, that's the dill.

Graduation

So, the past two weeks have been pretty important. For one thing, I graduated from Juilliard. For another, I moved away from NYC. Big doin's that I thought I'd tell you about, my dear blogees.

My parents and I took a road trip upstate (that is everywhere in New York besides NYC, for you non-yorkies out there) for graduation, hitting places like Scranton, the Finger Lakes, Seneca Falls and the Women's Hall of Fame, Auburn and the Harriet Tubman house, taking a barge through a loch on the Eerie Canal, important sites of my church's history in Palmyra, and riding the Maid of the Mist at Niagara Falls. It was a lot of fun, and it held some unexpected pleasures, like getting to see my bff Jessica in PA. Here are some of the highlights:

Transitions

I've left NYC now, moving on to a new phase of life. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't sad, but I am excited about my upcoming Colorado adventures. Since this blog has been mainly about my crazy New York life, though, I feel the need to wrap it up this summer with more posts about my favorite big city. So, here's a picture of the Indian restaurant my friends and I went to for my going-away party:

It was tough to get a really good shot of the place, but imagine all those chili peppers lit up and all the lights you can see spanning the entire length of the restaurant. Pretty crazy. In fact, if you look up the restaurant, the banner reads, "Panna II- where chili peppers meet Christmas lights!" But that is not all. When you get to the place, there are three Indian restaurants right in a row, and each one has a man outside trying to convince you to come to his. I'm fairly sure they share a kitchen, but it gives rise to some hilarious hijinx none-the-less. All in all, it was a good time, and the food was delicious. Should you find yourself in the NYC area, I would whole-heartedly recommend it.

Now For A Brief Intermission...

...from my packing. We're just going to call this a "Best of..." I see a lot of weird things. Some might argue that this is because I am "weird." But, I prefer to think of it as adept in seeing and verbalizing the foibles around me.

We have here:
1) people dancing on poles, not to be confused with pole dancing. That is ENTIRELY different. It was more like acrobatic swaying, actually. In any case, it was [high pitched voice] awesome.
2) Drive with Carl. Tee hee. Classic.
3) Real tree... Fake flowers. What IS the world coming to!?! Only in the Upper East Side.


Now back to packing.

Welcome to Trapeze School...

"New York Trapeze School can in no way be held responsible for physical or emotional injuries or death."

That is what I agreed to in signing the waiver tonight. That's right...you heard me... trapeze school. Something you should know about me...it's physiologically impossible for me to say no to something that ridiculous, so when my friends suggested we take a lesson, I tried and tried but caved and said yes. Actually, I think I squeaked it.

It has been a constant source of trauma ever since. You see, I'm not what you would call "athletic." (Hey! Stop snickering!) I have many stories about "the last time I did [insert sport here]". Like skiing... when a kid cut me off, I hit a tree, fell backwards, and got my skis stuck perpendicular in 6 inches of fresh packing snow. And couldn't move. And couldn't get my skis off. Or the time I went rollerblading head first. That was good. In fact, the idea of me flying through the air held up by a bar and my own strength filled me with an unholy terror.

But. like I said. Physiologically impossible. Must. Be. Ridiculous.

So, I climbed the ladder to the top of the platform. I curled my toes over the edge, leaned forward, and waited as the instructor brought the bar towards me. Three things happened on that platform.

1) Un-ho-ly-ter-ror. I found myself uttering the prayer, "Heavenly Father, please don't let me die or break an arm. I know it would be all my fault, and I don't want to explain it to Mom."

2) The obnoxious thirteen-year-old in me wanted to do Olympic commentary: "She steps up to the ledge, toes curled, a look of stolid determination on her face. This is it, the moment she has been working for all her life..." and so on. I would have done it, but for the distinct possibility that the instructor might actually push me over the edge.

3) I looked out at the amazing sight that is the city at night. Did I mention that the trapeze place is on a rooftop in Manhattan? You can see a lot of the city from there... and hundreds of cars whizzing by. I was actually overcome for a moment with how beautiful the city is. In that moment, I found myself grateful to live in such an amazing city.

And then I jumped. A swing and a miss. Yep, I'm just as good at trapezing as I am at any other sport. And that is the kind of good that is...well...not. Oh well.

Want to know the funny thing? I was even more freaked out when I hit my foot on a stair in the subway and it drew blood. I was much more concerned about what germs were in there than the idea of jumping off a ledge. Curious.

Now Leaving: The Abyss

I. Am. So. Close.

Seriously... half a take-home and one paper, and I am OUTTA HERE! (in a good way)

On another note: check out my new website: http://www.teslaquartet.com/.

Yep, this is how I feel right now:

It's A Jungle Out There

I'm supposed to be writing a paper right now...

But instead, I thought I'd share with you some of my favorite unenforced laws in NYC. You see, here in the Big Ap, things work a little differently. Sure, there are rules, as you can see illustrated, but, well, there is also a tacit understanding between cops and civilians that the civilians will blatantly disregard any rule they deem unworthy, and the cops will let it slide as long as no one gets seriously hurt or maimed in some way. Even then, there's a bit of a sliding scale.

For example, one of my fav stories of NYC life comes from a former bishop of mine, who watched a news story about car theft in the mean city streets. A man, wanting to protect his moderately-priced, sensible car, put a sign in the window saying, "No sterio." When he returned to his car later that day, there were shards of glass and a new sign in the window saying, "Get one."

Then there's the jaywalking. I have to admit, this is one of my vices in the city, and after being here for a couple of years I've realized that unless you take advantage of the opening, you're not going anywhere on time. Consequently, I will be lucky to make it out of NYC without being hit by a cab. (Incidentally, my roommate was hit, but it was the cab's fault, and she's okay.) There's also a good story about this unenforced law. Now, I would like to add an aside here that I heard this second-hand and have no way of proving it to be true or false. Either way, it's worth sharing, because it's a perfect illustration of the code of conduct I was discussing earlier.

It goes like this: A few years ago, some high-up city officials decided jaywalking had gotten out of hand and that this law should be enforced. To that end, they ticketed a woman. This woman, being the plucky New Yorker she is, sued the city for harassment (after all, why was she ticketed and not someone else), and WON. Therefore, that law too went to an early grave.

One more example here. I often walk outside and see this:

Ah, the double parking fairies, or as they are really called, the car shepherds. Yes, that's right. This is a real industry that has cropped up in New York. I read an article about it by Bill Geist, and I've been fascinated ever since. The car shepherds are people who get paid by the month to move cars around. You see, there are all sorts of rules about where and when you can park on the street, and since parking is such a precious resource, you could potentially never get to work if you worried about it. So, instead, you hire the shepherds. They get the keys, and you call them when you want your car back. Most of the time, you don't even know where your car is, but they do. If the car gets ticketed, the shepherd takes the fall. It's a pretty good system actually, but it does mean that double parking happens on a daily basis. I guess we should all just be glad the streets don't look like this:

So there you have it, everyone: the law of the jungle. The code of conduct for everyday life in the mean streets of New York City-- "If you don't bother me, I won't bother you. If you do bother me, I'll make sure to let you and everyone around you know. So don't bother me."

Breaking News on the Swine Flu

WARNING!!!

DO NOT DO THIS:

Dreams Come True

My hair is red now.
Yay!

Rockin' Hard or Hardly Rockin'?

The other night I played with an awesome band, Pearl and the Beard. First off, it was a fulfillment of many a childhood fantasy, playing with a band for a packed house in a NYC club. Second, it was with my dear friend Emily Hope Price, who helps me put this whole Mormon-living-in-NYC-being-a-musician thing into perspective. So that was fun too. I played backup on a couple songs with three guys from the band 46ink. They are also awesome, so you should check them out too.

I'm about to do the shameless plug thing and tell you all to check this band out. They're "metal." And, they just released a cd, so go ahead and get it already! I particularly love the fact that Emily learned how to play the accordion for one of the songs. It just happens to be one of my personal faves instruments. It may just be my new instrument of choice, right up there with the digeridoo.

Cell Phone Revisited

Today my phone switched back to normal. The battery held up, no random switching between speakerphone and regular... it seems to be, well, back. Instead of the gremlin phone of the past post, it now looks like this:

In a way, this makes its behavior all the more creepy. Now that I know it was just messing with me, I may take it in anyway. Ha ha! Recycled! That'll learn it.

**UPDATE: The phone stayed normal for two days, and now it's back to its weirdness. I guess I'll have to get a new one after all. Grr.

Spoooooky

That's what my phone is. It has recently taken to lighting up randomly, switching willy nilly between speaker phone and regular, running down the battery faster than you can say "running down the battery" (which admittedly would be cool if we were on ships), and laughing at me behind my back. I don't have proof of the last one, but I know it's happening.

In other words, please don't take offense if I don't answer my phone in the next week or so. I'll call you back!

Eat Here Now!!!

The other night I went to the Whitney Museum with a couple of friends. It was fun, but... shorter than expected. So, we walked out of the museum at about 9, and they both turned to me to say, "Now what?". I hadn't planned on this, so I rubbed my three remaining brain cells together and decided we would walk 20 blocks south. My theory at the time was that if you walk 20 blocks in any direction in NYC you will run into something to do. Keep in mind, this is a well-tested theory. I have put the method to use time and time again. But, I forgot to take into account the "east side" factor. There is apparently a great lack of stuff on Madison Ave unless you are shopping at Gucci or looking into advertising.

Determined, we persisted, and we eventually (after about 26 blocks) struck gold, in the form of the Eat Here Now Diner. I was intrigued by the commanding name (although it could have used an exclamation point or two), so we walked in and sat down. It was kind of old and dingy, and we sat for a while, waiting for a waitress to get us menus. Then we waited for the food, which was alright. Then we waited for a long time for the check. Kind of hilarious, really.

I liked the required CPR sign in there. Most are illustrated and printed in nice colors. This had the homey touch of being drawn in marker the wrong way on lined paper. It also had an air of mystery. It said- CPR Kit behind desk "manager." I wish I knew the thought behind the random quotation markings.

All in all, it was a smashing success. I may even go back one day.

**Note: While writing this post, I am currently on hold with the IRS trying to get my AGI number from last year, because I'm lame and don't know where my 2007 return is, and I need to e-file to get my taxes off on time. Good times. I just listened to the whole Sleeping Beauty Waltz, and now I'm listening to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. Oh, and it just went back to Sleeping Beauty... and now I've heard it three times and Eine Kleine twice. Maybe they should work on getting more than two pieces. Hmmm.

Megan the Grouch

Wow. I kind of hate Tuesdays. Anyone have any stories or jokes that would make me hate them less?

A New Haiku

This Week

Rain and snow come down
Cherry blossoms cry out
Come on spring! Come on!

You can do it, spring. I know you can.

I Can Be Foolish Every Day

Today, as I know you are all aware, is April Fool's Day. In honor of the occasion, I've decided to blog about some of my dreams, because it feels like nearly every night my subconscious gangs up on me to play tricks on the saner part of the psyche. Pshaw. JK. Any of you who have persisted in reading my blog know by now that there is no saner part of my psyche. Without further ado, here are just a few more reasons why I should probably not be out walking around.

#1. I dreamed that the first violinist in my quartet wrote a letter to Pres. Obama, telling him how we are a promising new quartet, but if we're going to succeed, we need his support. Obama responded by coming to NYC, with his family. I was at the mall with my mom and brother (duh, of course) and I saw him. I walked over, and he told me how proud he was of me. He said my quartet was great, "almost good enough to make a cd." He then told me to walk with him. As we walked around, it was like the Cult of Obama. He blessed people and was magnificently benevolent. Remember when Biden asked the quadrapalegic man to stand up, and there were jokes about how if it had been Obama the man would have been able to? The rest of the dream was pretty much like that.

#2. Right before my senior prom, I had a dream that also featured a prominent political leader. This one is somewhat less benevolent.
I dreamed that my high school took a group to Iraq for a study abroad. This was apparently a good idea at the time. Anyway, while we were there, I was walking around sightseeing, and I came across a movie set. They needed extras to portray slaves in the fields, so my friends and I volunteered. I got into costume and started working. After a few hours, I noticed that the overseers walking around were really armed, and there was no sign of the work stopping. Then I saw Osama Bin Laden walking up and down the rows. I knew suddenly that I had been duped! They had tricked us into slavery! Well, obviously I had to get away, so I made a break for it. I started running, and Bin Laden and his goons came after me. I ran and ran, trying to get somewhere, and I finally found a building with an unlocked door. I opened the door cautiously. The room was sparsely white and completely empty except for one of those kid's toys in the corner. It was a fabric tunnel that kids can crawl into. I heard voices close behind me, so I ran in, shut the door, and hid inside the tunnel. I heard the door open slowly, and inside stepped my prom date. I was so relieved to see him, and I said, "Dave! You have to help me! Bin Laden is chasing me, and I need to get away or else he'll kill me!" Dave looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he opened the door, stuck his head out, and yelled, "SHE'S IN HERE!!!" I awoke in a cold sweat and went to school. The poor guy could not figure out why I was acting so weird, but it took me a few days before I could look him in the eyes again. I mean, come on! The guy totally Sound of Music'd me!

Stranger Than Fiction

This post is not about a Will Ferrell movie. Although I liked that movie.

Okay, so today I'm dedicating this blog to a very rare medical condition that some of you may have heard me refer to in the past. Now, to clear this up, I do not sit around checking out WebMD. I have better things to do with my time... like...blog... and...er...other stuff. But that's beside the point. The point is that I lived with a medical student for 2 1/2 years, and we had "Disease of the Day." As a result, she may have been one of the top 3 contributors to the store of useless, and often alarming, knowledge in my brain.

What is this exotic ailment? Alien Hand Syndrome. I am serious. There is no more "scientific" name for this phenomenon. It is, however, sometimes referred to as "Alien Arm" or even "Dr. Strangelove Syndrome." This extraordinary condition is very rare (as in, about 50 documented cases since it was officially recognized by the medical community in the 1970s), and it is very very weird. Actually, it has been portrayed in movies and tv shows more times than the number of actual documented cases.

So what happens? It's pretty self-explanatory, actually. It's a condition where your brain gives direction to your arm to move, but it doesn't take direction from the other lobes about how and when to move. The arm's trigger is detached from your intent, or you might say, alien. Ahhh. [the light bulbs go off] So, you may grab a glass of water without knowing you are doing it. Or, in one or two cases, people have felt their arms creeping up to choke them. That is creepy and weird.

From one unnamed source (in other words, I can't specifically back it up), I have heard tell of an even less common version; in this turn of events, the alien arm will undo everything your non-alien arm does. For instance, if you try to open a door, the alien arm will close it. How rude.

Up till now, the medical community has been surprisingly lackadaisical about this condition. They apparently are more interested in curing cancer than curing alien arm. Since it doesn't actually "do any real bodily harm" they haven't put much into finding a cure. Instead, they advise victims to keep something in their hand to keep it busy. Now, I feel I must take offense on behalf of all the hapless victims of Alien Arm Syndrome out there. Solidarity, humans!

I do have to think, however, that it would be somewhat of a highlight for doctors getting to diagnose this syndrome. Can you imagine how awesome it would be to say, with your best sympathetic frown-smile, "I'm sorry Mr. Smith, but you have... alien arm. [stifled laughter that rises until Dr. Jones runs out into the hall, guffaws, and invites all his buddies to "come see this."]"

A Moment of Contemplation

Last night, my roommates and I were talking. One said, "Wow, I can still sort of feel on my foot where the pitchfork went in."

We had very different childhoods.