Rudy On Head

Sure, I could spend a few minutes regaling you with stories of moving into my new apartment, and then finding out that said apartment is HAUNTED; I could talk about my ire at learning of the elitist snobby bullshit pulled by the owner of Murky's Coffee in Arlington; I could talk about how much fun I had at Kal's wedding (and the ensuing 3 hour nap on the bathroom floor).

But that would all require too much work.

So instead, I bring you this photograph, taken circa 2008 with my iPhone, and spruced up a bit in a photo editor. I call it, "Rudy On Head." Discuss.

Moving In

I've spent the last couple of weeks moving in to my new home in North Arlington (about a mile from the Ballston Metro, for those of you who know the area). The house is really nice, and I share it with a couple of great people. I have been putting everything together -- setting it up just the way I like it. I always hate the logistical nightmare of moving OUT of an old place, but I love the POSSIBILITIES of moving into a new place. I am definitely of the mindset that My Home Is My Castle -- but, more accurately, I would say that My Home Is My Sanctuary. I love to feel peaceful, comfortable, safe, relaxed. That is what I am trying to set up.

Because it is late and I am tired and I have to get to work in the morning (yay being a real live communications lawyer!), I will leave you with this candid shot (artfully edited in post) showing Yours Truly preparing to rehearse the 1812 Overture for last week's July 4th concert on the Mall. It was a blast!


(Photo credit: Nathan Mitchell, CASW Bass)

Jew in da House!

Rehearsing before the Eastern Sunday service...


Looking surprisingly happy for so early in the morning...


Yeah, that's more like it... PISSED. (Granted, I was portraying Death in the Brahms German Requiem, but I can assure you I felt like Death as well, that early in the morning on a Sunday!)

Destiny...

Answering Our Own Questions

(This is a joint blog entry, composed by Matt and Sweetie.)

Most people know Matthew Lesko as Question Mark Guy (or some derivation), the man who screams about free money on infomercials late at night. But for my Sweetie and I, he has long been a metaphor for our sometimes uncertain relationship. The first time we saw him, Sweetie and I were just starting out. It was September 2005, just a few weeks into our nascent relationship, and we were taking in a movie in Chinatown. At the time, I was uncertain whether Sweetie, a Latin teacher, was playful and quirky enough for me, or whether her "magistra" tendencies (magistra is Latin for "teacher") would dominate. A question mark lay before us. That night, for the first time in our lives, we saw Matthew Lesko.

Fast forward to December of 2006. We had already broken up, but Sweetie came to my Christmas Concert with the Choral Arts Society anyway. During the concert, she sat alone, wondering what would become of us. At intermission, from the balcony, she saw him: a man decorated head to toe in question marks -- dress question marks, no less!

After the concert, Sweetie brought the sighting to this tenor's attention, feeling it was a terrible omen. Sweetie was distraught, because she saw Question Mark Man as symbolizing the end of our relationship. It had now come full circle -- questions in the beginning, when Matt wasn't sure if she was right for him -- and questions in the end, when Sweetie didn't know if they would ever really spend time together again. We spotted his question-mark-adorned car in the parking garage, and decided to wait for him, intent on questioning the man ourselves. What do you mean?? we wanted to ask. Why are you always here during times of discernment? Do you have any answers for all your questions? We would not get the chance to ask. After waiting in an empty parking lot for half an hour, we realized the Question Mark Man would remain a mystery that night. As we drove out of the parking garage, we noticed yet another question-mark-adorned vehicle, and realized that the man had decoys, likely to prevent insane people like ourselves from stalking him down and trying to squeeze out of him answers to the greatest mysteries of existence.

The third time, Sweetie saw the Question Mark car through tears. I had just returned from London, and we decided to go to dinner and the theatre together. It was Sweetie's favorite kind of evening, full of feelings of love and affection. This night was an experiment: We wanted to see if we could still go out and enjoy a nice evening together whilst remaining single. The experiment failed. As we sat in my car at the end of the night, Sweetie consumed by emotion, we looked across the street and our jaws dropped as we saw the Question Mark Car yet again. It was parked right in front of Sweetie's building. It was definitely a sign. But a sign of what? Alas, there would be no answers to these incessant question marks.

Fast forward yet again. Although the future remains unclear, the Sweeties find themselves in a place of relative calm, having made plans to take an educational road trip next weekend and teach Matt a little bit about our nation's history. Today, just after Sweetie dropped off Matt's lunch at his place of employ, she happened to glance into the Starbucks across the street. She left a frantic voice mail on Matt's phone.

"Sweetie. I just happened to pass Starbucks, and -- Guess. Who. I. Saw. Question Mark Man." Her voice didn't sound surprised. In fact, it sounded like she completed expected to see him. "I swear, every time something exciting happens for us... there he is. This would be a great time to talk to him. Call me back."

I bolted through the stairwell door, confident I could run six stories down faster than it would take to wait for the elevator. I couldn't let this chance to talk to Question Mark Man -- to get some ANSWERS -- pass us by.

I ran across the street to find Sweetie pacing outside the door of Starbucks. "He's right in there!" she shouted breathlessly. "What should we do?"

"We should go in and talk to him, of course!" I said, calmly.

"Sweetie, I can't go in!" she said. "What would I say? I'm scared!"

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Sweetie was scared of everything. Now, at the prospect of finally getting answers, she was scared to find out the truth. I told her to Wait Here, and I walked inside.

Question Mark Man was on the phone. I beckoned Sweetie in, and had her grab a table just across from him, as I waited in line for a perfunctory iced chai with which to wait him out. I returned to the table where Sweetie was conducting not-so-covert surveillance, and there we waited.

"Sweetie," I said, "stop staring!"
"I want to make sure he doesn't leave."
"Sweetie, we don't want him to think we are stalkers."
"But we ARE stalkers! We need to know the truth!"

I sipped my chai and glanced at the newspaper as I waited for Question Mark Man to get off the phone. He had the handset pressed to his ear, doing so little talking that Sweetie wondered aloud if perhaps he wasn't really on the phone, but was just holding it up "to look busy." I responded that if he wasn't really on the phone, he was holding it up so that he could avoid being accosted by people like us.

"Maybe we should leave," Sweetie said.
"WHAT?! We get so close and then you would have us leave?"
"He could be on the phone for a long time."
"He's RIGHT THERE! All our questions, waiting to be answered!"

She looked a bit sheepish and agreed that, as usual, I was right. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Sweetie disagrees with that line, calling it "revisionist history."] After a few more minutes, Question Mark Man ended his conversation. Sweetie and I looked at each other excitedly, and then, after quickly arguing about who would speak first, we approached him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Lesko?" she said.
The bequestioned man looked up and smiled, knowing a fan when he saw one. He stood to greet us, shaking our hands.
"We have been wanting to talk to you for a long time," Sweetie said.
"Really?" Question Mark man looked surprised.
"You have been present at every important stage in our relationship."
His eyes widened as he realized he was going to be here a while. Boldly, pulling up a chair, Sweetie told him, "Take a seat."
I chimed in. "Do we have a story for you."

Several minutes later, after recounting his fortuitous appearances throughout our entire relationship, and offering him sound business advice ("You should ride around on a question-marked Segway!"), it became apparent that he had no answers for us. In telling him the story, we had answered our own questions. Instead of him telling us what his purpose was, we told him what he meant to us.

He looked a bit overwhelmed. In person, this friendly man was not wild and crazy at all, but rather soft-spoken and contemplative. He paused, as though taking it all in. Then he smiled.

"Gee," he said, "usually people just want to tell me how I helped save them a lot of money!"

(Under my breath) "Sweeeetie.... why aren't you waaaaaviiing...."

Happy Independence Day!

CAS-Capitol-Fourth, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Tonight I had the pleasure of ushering in the 231st year of America's existence by singing in the Capitol Fourth concert on the West Lawn of the Capitol. The concert was broadcast live in HD on PBS, and I made it on screen a few times! This image is actually a photograph I took of my television screen, then cleaned up a bit in Photoshop. Click through for a larger size -- the HD image is truly stunning.

Last year I didn't do the concert, and as I watched it from home, I balked at its cheesy nature -- the Vaudeville style, the dancing girls, the pop artists. This year, it was still as cheesy as ever... but I actually got into it. There is something amusing about Tony Danza tap dancing with a bunch of hotties and singing about how "You're a Grand Ol' Flag" is "one of those songs that you hear now and then -- you don't know just where, and you don't know just when..."

I still prefer a more serious, stately celebration... but this was really fun. AND: I got to keep the tie.


Choral Arts sings backup for Elliot Yamin in "America, the Beautiful"

Fun with Sea Creatures!

Fun in Chicago!, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

I flew to Chicago this weekend for my sister's year-end play (she takes classes at Act One Studios), and got to spend a couple days doing touristy things... like going to the Shedd Acquarium and buying a Coral Reef* hat! As soon as I saw a 10-year-old wearing one in the elevator, I knew I had to have it. I ran frantically down to the gift shop and excitedly asked them, "Where are those awesome hats?!" Here, I pose with my family as they hold onto their Special boy.

Lots more Chicago pics here.

*Note: At first, because my fingers have their own muscle memory, I typed "Choral Reef." Now wouldn't that be interesting.....

Cool Segway Man

Cool Segway Man, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

After two hours touring about town on a Segway i2 today, I was an old pro. SO MUCH FUN!!! Lots of video coming soon...

Who doesn't like to frolic in flowers?

Flowers on Surrey Lane, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

When I was apartment hunting, Surrey Lane (about a mile from the Georgetown strip) had a glorious canopy of cherry blossoms and flowering dogwood trees overhead. It was beautiful.

A few days ago, I awoke to find that the canopy was now an amazing carpet of pink petals. There is little I enjoy more than the beauty of nature, and how it can be so great as to almost overwhelm at times. A crystal clear night sky, a sunset that looks like it was painted on, and now a carpet of petals. Amazing.

PS - If you think the picture is pretty now, try viewing it full screen.

Genesis 1:3

Genesis 1:3, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Who says I need an alarm clock? I wake up when God shines his spotlight at me.

Look, ma! I'm famous!

The University of Michigan basketball team had the misfortune, yet again, of attending the NIT tournament, also known as the Losers Tournament, a kind of consolation contest for those who didn't make it into the NCAA.

I learned all of the above facts within the past two days, as my dad told me he bought us all tickets for the NIT game at Michigan on Tuesday. NIT game? Michigan? Tuesday? All vague concepts to me, until my dad explained that basketball is a game whereupon one tries to "shoot" a ball into a hoop with a net under it. By "shoot," apparently he meant "throw the ball upward." There are, in reality, no guns involved.

The point of all this is that we got stuck sitting behind an IDIOT who wore a bag over his head for the whole game, including but not limited to the opening buzzer, halftime, when we were up by 11 or only up by 1. He wore the bag the entire time. At first I thought he wanted media attention, but then I realized that the TV cameras were in fact behind us. And then when the Ann Arbor News took his picture and tried to ask him a few questions, he shrugged them off. Apparently he just wanted to sit there and sulk. Inside a bag. With the words "NIT AGAIN" scrawled on the back, visible only to me and my mom.

Imagine my glee when I opened up the Detroit News this morning to see a picture of Bag Man buried inside the sports section, and, just behind him, me! Only partially obscured! It turns out the Web version of the photo also includes pieces of my mom and dad! I am famous!

In for a landing!

IMG_8299, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Rudy flies in for a landing!

Sleeping Winston

IMG_8342, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Winston sleeps peacefully while the screen saver behind him is a beautiful visual echo of his form.

Vote Rudy in 2008!

rudy-for-president, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

I'm Still Here... Snuggling with Cuddly Things

matt-mickey-billy
Originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

My little sister Elizabeth woke me up this morning with several hundred click-click-clicks of my Canon 20D. I took it as an opportunity for some good, old-fashioned modeling work, and quickly arranged Mickey (the dog) and Billy (the teddy bear I've had since I was a lad) into several photogenic positions. This was my favorite, because we all look so cute and because my trips to the gym are evident. :-)

Also, notice that I am shorn once again! Yes, that's right, I shaved my beard off, as I do every few months or so. I just get tired of looking like a man in his late 30s, and instead want to look like a boy in his early 20s. Word on the street is that I'm cuter without a beard, but try telling that to the hypothetical county prosecutor interviewing me for assistant DA. Can you imagine it? A boy trying to convict a drug dealer. How on earth can a jury of peers take me seriously with such a cute and round babyface?

Oh well -- we will tackle that problem if and when we come to it.

So, after being woken up by flashes and clicks, I headed through the 15-below windchill to the gym, where I had a rousing good time doing a lower body workout of squats, hamstring curls, calf presses and plenty o' ab work. I was in a pretty good mood until I hit the showers, tried to wash my hair, and realized that the shampoo I keep in my gym bag in the trunk of my car had FROZEN INTO A SOLID BLOCK OF SHAMP-ICE. Or ICE-POO. (Pick your favorite.) Not to mention the fact that my shower shoes were also little blocks of ice, and after I finished and left the gym I was assaulted by icy wind, and got into my icy car and put my cold fingers on an icy steering wheel, and so on and so forth. I HATE MICHIGAN WEATHER.

Let's see. Oh! I discovered a great new quick protein-filled meal. This takes about 30 seconds to make and tastes DELICIOUS:

Step 1. Open up a can of chicken breast.
Step 2. Plop in two dollops of hummus.
Step 3. Drizzle with olive oil.
Step 4. Mix up with a spoon.
Step 5. (In a flamboyantly gay voice) Heaaaaven!

(Note to visitors: I love gay people. You know, in a platonic sort of way.)

Anyway, it's an amazing protein-filled and low fat dish, perfect for getting some extra protein at night, and if you want to have it as a real meal during the day (i.e. with carbs), just put it between some whole wheat bread. SO good.

In other news, I am still studying for the LSATs. Er, Bar Exam. Haven't tackled the essays yet -- have been focusing on the multiple choiced Multistate Bar Exam -- but I will get to the essays this week. Twenty-three days to go. Hmm. Time to find religion.

Running with Birds

trail-run, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

I jogged a mile today. Through an enchanted hillside!

Cuddly Rudy

Cuddly Rudy, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Rudy is fluffy and cuddly, basking in the light from the rising sun. Note the sparkles around his eyes! (For best effect, click through to Flickr, and then click "All Sizes" to see it larger.)

God I love Chipotle

IMG_6544.JPG, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

I don't think I've enjoyed Halloween this much since I was a little kid, experiencing the thrill of getting FREE CANDY for the first time. You see, Chipotle (one of my favorite restaurants in the world) has a special Halloween deal which is only known by hard core Chipotle fans who subscribe to their e-mail list: Come in dressed up as burrito, and GET A FREE BURRITO. This is essentially the new Adult version of Halloween; I no longer care about getting free candy, but dangle a free burrito before me and I'll do pretty much anything you want. Want me to dance? I'll dance. Want me to dress up as a burrito? For the love of God, I'll do it!

My tin foil cap facilitated the acquisition of two free burritos -- a steak/barbacoa version from the Dupont Circle location, and a chicken/guacamole version from Woodley Park. At each restaurant, there were very few people in line when I showed up at 5:45 and 6 pm, respectively, and I was the only one wearing aluminum. I was seriously planning on getting a third burrito, but alas, when I drove past the Tenleytown Chipotle shortly after 7, the line was out the door and several of those waiting were clad in foil. Apparently word had gotten around.

Oh well -- I still got two delicious burritos, one of which I had today and the other I will devour tomorrow. I'm already looking forward to next year... I've gotten lots of burrito costume ideas from flickr, and some of them are incredibly inspired.

Happy Halloween from BeforeISleep.net!

IMG_6540.JPG, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

Happy Birthday to Me

IMG_0027 3, originally uploaded by CaseWriter21.

I turned 27 the other day, and invited some friends over for a Poker Party (TM) and some fun. I believe my invitation, sent out to some two dozen people, implored the invited guests to "bring a friend or two, a smile or two, and a bottle or two." Alas, only 5 people responded, none of them brought a bottle or a friend (let alone two), and only 3 or 4 brought a smile.

The party was definitely one of the weirdest parties I have ever had, and I blame this on the low turnout. Six people do not a party make, especially when only 3 of the attendees actually agreed to the $5 buy-in for a good game of poker. Shortly through the game, our resident New Yorker tired of tormenting my parrot with Evil Stuffed Animals, and began strategically placing firecrackers throughout the apartment, including but not limited to in the stove burners. When Anthony and Bekah left to go buy a birthday cake, Rich convinced us all to find out what would happen if we put foil in the microwave. I happened to think this was a Very Bad Idea, but the Vocal Minority usually outshouts the Silent Majority, as seen in the following video...

Alas, the supermarket had closed at 11 pm (not 12 am as the Web site said), so I never did get that birthday cake. But that's okay; before the party, Anthony, Gweepay and I went to Lauriol Plaza, where Mexicans sang happy birthday for me as they presented my Birthday Flan...

Here's hoping Year 27 has a little more structure than Party 27.