Good Night, Sleep Tight

When my parents moved to the new house, they packed all of my stuff into boxes and brought it with them.  Those boxes have sat untouched in the closet of my new bedroom... until tonight.

It shames me to say this, but my parents literally made me clean my room today.  Ugh, it felt just as terrible as it did when I was 17 years old.  But trying to organize all of the stuff that I hadn't even laid eyes upon since I left for college forced me to take the scenic route down memory lane.

Going through each individual box, I decorated the bedroom walls with things that High School Sam would have loved.  I taped up movie posters for Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill, and Bourne Identity, but I also threw out some posters I'm kind of embarrassed to own: 25th Hour, The Recruit, Moulin Rouge, and The Birthday Girl (apparently I really liked Nicole Kidman as a teenager).

In addition to the movie posters, I hung up all of my paper-bags-turned-book-covers, or at least the ones that my friends had helped me decorate when we got bored during class.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.  In the midst of all of my high school projects and posters, I also uncovered a letter that Catmo and Kathryn wrote me from Italy, a wanted notice that Thomas mailed me for my birthday, a country music mix CD (my first!) that Katie burned me, pictures that Tina drew for my class officer campaign posters, hemp bracelets that Stevie made me, the Senior Book that Christin and I put together, and much, much more.

Perhaps most surprisingly, I found this Michelle Branch poster that I don't even recall owning, but judging by the handwriting, I'd have to say that Mica put together for me.  Well, thanks to whoever made it, because it now adorns a corner of my wall:

Man, 17-year-old Sam was living a pretty good life.  I wanna hang out with that guy.

Fix Me Up

The majority of my break has been occupied with helping my parents do odd jobs around the house.  For example, today we went back to the old house, which is now on the rental market, and repainted some the rooms that had scuff marks on the walls.

Earlier this week, I helped my parents decorate the house they now live in.  They hadn't hung anything up on the walls yet, making the whole place feel very... institutional.  So, I forced them to dig out all of the old paintings and family portraits from the attic.

Our extremely Chinese-looking dining room. 

Our extremely Chinese-looking kitchen/breakfast room.

Et voilà!  Now the house finally looks and feels like there are people living in it.

Occupy Louisa

I've seriously been all over the map this winter break.  I just can't stop occupying!!!1!1!!one!

Today's trip was just a few minutes down the road to the city? town? village? municipality! of Louisa to visit Hy.  He had accidentally left his suit jacket at his hotel in New York City last week and I had picked it up for him.  In addition to returning the coat to its rightful owner, I also got to see Tim, another one of our fellow Watson dorm-mates, who is visiting for two days from Wisconsin.  Man, just typing that word makes me feel cold.

The three of us grabbed lunch at Obrigado Restaurant, which according to Hy is the "only decent restaurant in town."  Unfortunately, I seemed to have chosen their only indecent menu option, the Catfish Po' Boy.  The homemade chips that came with it were salty and delicious, but the catfish was extremely dry and flavorless.  At least it came from Lake Anna, so there may be a chance that I develop superpowers from eating the irradiated bottom feeder.

And before we lose the Christmas spirit entirely, here's a picture of Titan, who scraped his snout on something while romping outside this week:

His new nickname?  Titan the Red-Nosed Ridgeback.

It's Beginning to Sound a Lot Like Christmas

I'm turning into an old fart.  I tire of the pop Christmas songs by artists like Mariah Carey and Justin Bieber that dominate the airwaves.  Nay, give me the good old stuff: Handel's Messiah, the original German verses of Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht, or a choral arrangement of Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming.

But there is one song that brings me Christmas cheer above all others: Leroy Anderson's Sleigh Ride.  It's the upbeat tempo; it's the use of the slapstick and other fun percussion instruments; it's the moment when the orchestra breaks out into that funky, festive rhythm.  If I were Jesus, I would totally make this my official birthday song.

Merry Christmas to you and your families!

Occupy Richmond

If you're allowed to have Friendsgiving, then why shouldn't you also be allowed to have Friendsmas?

I feel slightly guilty for saying it, but while I love getting to come home to my parents during winter break, my favorite thing is actually getting to see all of my high school friends.

I started my Friendsmas by meeting up with Catmo and Christin at Secco Wine Bar in Carytown.  I had just come from dinner, so I didn't sample any of their food, but I can attest that their wine is delicious and their ambience is relaxing.

Afterwards, we caught a showing of Drive at the Byrd Theatre.  It was... not at all what I expected.  I expected it to be more Fast and Furious-like and less Kill Bill-like.  But who am I to complain?  There are few action flicks I don't enjoy, and this one was an interesting blend of violence and artistry, both of which are things I love.

Friendsmas continued at Mica's house tonight, where I celebrated Christmas Eve with her extended family.  I was happy enough that she invited me to hang out with them, and even happier when her dad and her uncle both gave me presents.  From her uncle, I received a gift bag containing Tabasco sauce, a key chain flashlight, chocolates, and Anti Monkey Butt Powder.  From her dad, I received a large tool of unknown purpose but is likely a toenail clipper.

Christmas is fun!

Occupy Waynesboro

Christmas is the time... for nostalgia.  Last week, when Russell took me to his friend's house to sing around the piano, I couldn't help but think of all the fun I had singing with Caroline in college.  Like me, she grew up surrounded by church music, and like me, she knows every word to every song in the Baptist hymnal.  So that night when I realized she'd be back in Virginia for the holidays, I sent her the following message: "I'm totally driving to Waynesboro to visit you and you can't stop me."

True to my word, when I got back to DC yesterday, I took a little detour on my way home to Richmond and stopped by Caroline's parents' house.  I hung out with Caroline and Erik, caught them up on what has been going on in my life, and heard all about what it's like to be new homeowners in Texas.  I ended up spending the night there, and when I woke up this morning, Caroline's mom prepared a breakfast of ham, eggs, and grits for us.  What a great way to start off my Christmas weekend!  We joked about turning this into a new tradition, but we'll see if they're still laughing next year when I show up on their front porch hungry and asking for food.

As fun as it has been to traipse around the mid-Atlantic for the past week, I'm glad to say that I am finally home with my parents and Titan.  I'm officially ready for Christmas, so bring it on!

Happenstance

At 1:25 today, I made the conscious decision to stop trying to connect with other people on the streets of New York City.  Too often I'd been burned: no "hello," no polite nod of the head, not even a half-second smile.  In fact, the only person who'd made eye contact with me all morning was a drunk, homeless man wearing a Santa hat.  I would go straight to Penn Station, glancing around only to look for a place to grab lunch on my way.

At 1:30 today, I felt a slap across my chest while I was walking up Broadway Avenue.  I spun around to see who had hit me, but before I had time to register the face, I heard Jim's customary greeting, "Whuddup, Sammas?"

At 1:31 today, I decided that New York City is not as big as it seems.  In addition to randomly getting to have lunch with Jim in Midtown, I had also run into Kristine, a first year UVA medical student, yesterday while crossing Times Square.

And so, I continue to collect evidence to support my theory that New York is just a small town pretending to be the most populous city in the United States of America.

Thanks to Cal the Cripple for hosting me this visit.  Until next time, NYC!