School's out for.....ever?

Today was graduation.  Graduation for the students who were freshmen my first year in Baltimore and now we are all grown up and off on new adventures.  In that way, it feels like a little graduation of my own.  It's been an interesting ride to see these girls grow and mature over these past 4 years, and while my own high school career is long behind me, I can see the changes that have happened in myself as well over the past 4 years.  These girls changed and challenged me, my colleagues inspired me, my classes fulfilled me, and I learned a more about who I am and who I want to spend the rest of my life with.  Luckily, that last part was pretty easy to figure out.  When I came here I knew no one in Baltimore and was terrified of taking over a music program that had been led by a respected and loved teacher.  I had a lot of growing up and stepping up to do, and I think more often than not, I was able to accomplish that.  There were some mishaps along the way, things I wish I had done or done differently, mistakes I wish I had caught, and perhaps even times I wish I had been more strict with my students.  (I'm a softie, what can I say.  It's not in my nature to be as disciplined as I would like to think I am.) But, setting my fears aside, I came in and did what I love to do:  make music.  Within those first few months I met Kevin and grew to know and love both my school and my new city.  I had visions of spending years here, taking it on head-first and really being part of this community for the long haul.  Then, things happened that were beyond our control, Kevin was offered an amazing opportunity we had only dreamed of, and now, here we go off to CA in just over a month.  And married at that!  Holy crap!  While I may have had dreams of living Baltimore for years to come, it seems as though it was a critical 4-year stepping stone to the next part of life for me.  A stepping stone I couldn't have done without and one that allowed me to do a little self-realizing, to be sure, but it looks like Zeke and I won't be lingering here for much longer. 

The part of the school year that everyone, students and teachers alike, most look forward to is more likely than not, the end of the year.  That official jumping-off point of summer, BBQ's, vacation, and seriously lazy days, and you can officially crank out the Alice Cooper song we all know and love so well.  This year was no different for me, even though it marks the close of my career at my current school.  However, this time, it's possibly the "School's out forever" part of the refrain that is most appropriate.  As of now, I do not have a teaching job, or any job for that matter, in CA.  I've been looking for months and nothing with music within a reasonable commute of our apartment has come through.  Nothing.  Yes, I've considered other options that could work for me and most of those would work, but in terms of being fulfilling, I'm not entirely sure.  So.... depending on how the proverbial chips fall both throughout this summer and in the years to come, school could be out for me forever.  And that is quite strange.  I've been doing the school thing in some way, shape, or form for the better part of 2 (creeping ever so slowly to 3...) decades, so not being in or teaching school seems a bit of an anomaly.  No long weekends for work days?  No extended holiday breaks?  No thrill watching the news in the morning for a snow closing? (Of which we had ZERO this year!  I feel so cheated.) No spring break, and most jarringly, no summer vacation....?  Whaaaaaa?  Working 9 - 5 diligently throughout the year with only the occasional long weekend of relaxed bliss?  I'm not sure I know how to function in those circumstances.  However, being the fidgety person I am, I can only take about 2 days to 1 week max of nothing to do before I lose my ever loving mind, so summer can sometimes pose a threat to my occasionally fragile grip on reality.  Thankfully, my colleague and good friend runs a summer music theater camp and asked me to come on board my first summer here, so for the first chunk of break, my sanity is safe.  Don't get me wrong - I LOVE me some time off.  I also love feeling as though I've accomplished something in my day other than a shower and walking the dog.  Keeping busy is good for me, and, by proxy, Kevin, Zeke, and everyone else around me. 

So, no, I don't know that I'll be teaching next year, and at this point it's fairly unlikely that I'll find a teaching job.  And that's ok.  For the past month or so I've tried to come to grips with that and figure out what else I can do.  I was never one of those people who grew up knowing all-along they were going to teach.  I didn't have that gene and sometimes I feel as though those who did have that instinct all along are much stronger educators than I could ever hope to be.  I knew I loved music.  I knew I loved making music, singing, conducting, and being surrounded by creativity.  That's how I came to teaching - it was a good outlet for me to share my passion with others, and I think in that regard I have been successful.  If there is one thing I leave these students I hope it is an open mind to all types of music and a sincere curiosity and desire to explore the performance opportunities afforded by each piece.  Unless it's some terrible arrangement of a trashy pop song.  My students know my severe dislike of many popular artists out there today.  I'll refrain from a full-on rant right now.  I'm hopeful that my passion for music, performance, and creativity will lead me somewhere new - possibly not in the education field, but somewhere I could have my outlet, share my passions, and feel fulfilled at the end of the day.  Something that challenges me and demands that I continue pushing myself to learn.  There are a ton of cool companies out in the Bay area - I keep saying that one of them out there has to be looking for someone like me.  And hopefully they're willing to back it up with a somewhat decent salary to top it off.  Just sayin'. 

And since this post doesn't lend itself well to pictures, here's a one of Zeke for good measure.  Because you can never have enough mooshy bully cuteness in your day. 

Why don't you make like a tree....

.... and get outta here.

The outside of my former abode.  The front porch was all mine and that was lovely.

The dishwasher-less kitchen.

Well, call me ginko, cherry, maple, tulip poplar or whatever you wanna, I'm outta my apartment on Roland Ave in Baltimore!  It was a cute little place, to be sure, and super convenient to work (hey, can't really beat a 10min walk) and Zeke loved going to the little grocery store a few blocks away to meet new friends.  But, after 4 years of no dishwasher, little to no storage space, no central air, weird/badly wallpapered bathrooms, and a W/D down in a scary scary basement populated by cave crickets it was time to move on.  Oh, not to mention the guy on the floor above me who liked to stomp around in bike shoes - you know, the kind with the metal clips on the bottom - at any and all hours and blare his TV loud enough that I could lie in bed and almost guess what he was watching.  Yeah, not going to miss that. 

The "cozy" (a.k.a. tiny) living area.

So, on to my nomadic summer, bouncing between places with Zeke at my side.  I've managed to keep my summer needs down to one large suitcase and a carry-on and that was a daunting task.  I selected 5 pairs of shoes to get me through from now until essentially the beginning of August.  "But wait, 5 pairs sounds like a good number of shoes," I hear you say.  "Surely it wasn't all that tough to select - and really, why do you need more than 1 or 2 pairs?"  To those of you thinking this or something similar, please refer to my previous post for more background reading. I still have a few more weeks of school followed by musical theater camp then the wedding week and the drive out to CA.... what's a girl to wear!??!  Oh and a friend's wedding, too!  The catch is, whatever I have with me now has to come in the car on the honeymoon.  With the dog, his crate/food/toys, Kevin's suitcase he'll need for the wedding week, and possibly/hopefully the "fourth" car companion, Flo.  My plant.  Some context:  There's a commercial where the opening line is, "My house is where plants came to die."  I relate very strongly to this.  I enjoy plants but despite my best intentions and constantly renewed promises to really truly keep this one alive and kickin' for a good long time... they all end up in the same sad state eventually.  Even a cactus.  But that's because it kept falling (or purposefully jumping...) off the window sill and it just gave up.  All but Flo.  She's a real trooper and has managed to stick it out with me for several years now.  I just can't see parting with a plant that has bravely hung in there and survived my benign neglect.   I've done quite a good job keeping Zeke healthy, even with his delicate bulldog constitution, but Zeke makes noise and lets me know when he needs attention of some sort.  Flo just helplessly sits on her stand, subtly starting to droop without my noticing, until somehow I mercifully remember to put the rest of the water from my bottle or drinking glass in her pot.  I'm a terrible plant parent.... Her sheer fortitude has won her a spot in the car. 

So, all four of us in the car and anything else we need to cram in the CR-V from coast to coast.  Oy vey.  Sure, the whole situation is a little displacing, and Zeke has just given up on trying to figure out just what the hell is going on, but it adds to the adventure of it all.  Just one step closer to finally being able to call CA home, weird as that still sounds.  Weird in a good, exciting, OMG sort of way, but weird nonetheless.  Luckily, that's a state in which I am perfectly comfortable existing.  Oh - did I mention that I also have my Lord of the Rings extended director's cut DVD trilogy along for the summer?  I sensed that a marathon might have to happen at some point.  Making space for that was an easy decision.  Boo-yeah. 

My life in boxes

The "living area"

When I started taking things off the walls and putting some incidental stuff in boxes 3 or 4 weeks ago, I thought, "Eh, maybe it's a little early to start this, but let's take it nice and steady."  Now I'm incredibly thankful that I started packing when I did!  Almost everything is packed snugly in a temporary cardboard home, ready for a long journey to our new apartment in San Mateo.  As the number of boxes has steadily increased I'm starting to feel as though I'm in a life-sized game of Tetris.  Not only is it a test of whatever spacial reasoning skills I possess to get everything puzzled into a box, but now it's a matter of maneuvering through the boxes to still have some sort of walkable pathway for Zeke and I.  And speaking of the moosh-man, he is less than thrilled with all the change going on.  When I brought a large wardrobe box in yesterday I leaned it against the couch as I peeked outside to check the mail.  Zeke came over, the box slid down, startled him, and he bolted.  Out the front door.  Thankfully, I was right there and tackled him on the porch before he could continue God only know how far - very possibly into the busy street - and I shoved him back inside, both of us a little shaky after the whole stupid incident.  Everything's just a little more exciting nowadays...

Zeke checking out the boxes.

There's a bedroom somewhere in here.

While most things are tagging along for a new life on the west coast, some things are finding new homes here on the east coast.  I've been stretching my capacity of letting go:  There was a good chunk of stuff that didn't make it past the first cut and went to Goodwill right away.  But there was still an emotional attachment to many things and I was reluctant to part them with at first.  I tried bringing certain items to more prominent places to entice me to use them, but as time told, I didn't.  So, now, off to the donation centers with many, many more things.  And it's good really.  Not only is it practical because "spacious" isn't a word that immediately comes to mind for the new apt, but I'm starting to feel like it's healthy, too.  I don't need the things to keep the memories.  Sure, most of the stuff is still "nice" and there's nothing wrong with it - if we were moving to a luxurious house in the hills it wouldn't be much of an issue - but still, it begs the question, "Why keep it?"  Am I using it?  Have I used it in recent memory?  Or, more telling, did I even remember I owned it until I laid eyed on it again?  More frequently than I originally thought, the answer to those questions led me to put one more thing on the donation pile.  It's liberating in a way. 

Zeke expresses his displeasure with the new surroundings.

I only have to live surrounded by cardboard for just over a week and then it's on to my nomadic existence between move-out day and WEDDING WEEK!  Squeeeeeee!  While having my life compartmentalized in boxes and living surrounded by said boxes isn't ideal, (My end table is packed up and that box is now serving as end table stand in.) it's certainly a small thing to endure in the scheme of things.  I consider it character building.  Or something like that.  It's certainly keeping my life interesting to say the least. 

And now for something completely different

So far, I've written about all the various changes, upheavals, moving perils and final things going on.  And that kind of thing can be a downer in abundance.  Today, let's talk about something else - I'm thinking shoes. This is always a happy topic.

Some of the jewels of my collection. Love.

Pics don't do them justice.

OK.  Shoes.  Most of you know I love me some shoes - bright, animal print, peep-toe, wedge, platform, boot, cute flat, strappy sandal or - my fav - the stiletto. You name it, I probably have it in some form or fashion.  Luckily, Kevin indulges (and sometimes encourages in the case of the stiletto) my addiction.  I mean habit.  Or collection.  Yeah, we'll go with collection.  Shortly after the proposal I began thinking not just about my dream dress, but my dream shoes to compliment said dress.  My vision: bright, strappy, sparkly in good taste, and with some serious elevation.  Bonus points for walkable/danceable.  The hunt began.  The dress I found fairly easily, (woot!) but the shoes?  Those proved to be exceptionally difficult.  I wasn't expecting to find anything until March at the earliest - with a summer wedding date, I wanted something appropriately seasonal that would showcase a fantastic pedicure - so peep-toe just wasn't going to be airy or strappy enough. 


I began haunting my favorite shoe locations, Aldo & Nordstrom's, and searched other stores regularly as well, both online and in person but all to no avail.  They were either the wrong color, not high enough or with a clunky heel (What is it with that coming back in style?  Not cool!) or they were bedazzled with spikes, unnecessary zippers (another trend I'm not favoring) or were closed or peep-toe.  Not good for showing off the lusciously bright pedi I anticipate having.  Disappointment reigned.  I asked sales people, "When are your bright, strappy, high stiletto shoes coming in?"  I was met with crestfallen faces as they admitted, "Those aren't coming in this year and I just don't know why."  We would share a sigh and a knowing look that, unfortunately, for this summer, the adorable hotness I was seeking just wasn't meant to be.  Well, wasn't meant to be there at my price point - if I had the spare cash to justify Jimmy Choo's or (...sigh...) Louboutins with their tauntingly bright red sole, spectacular wouldn't be an issue.  Unfortunately, I could also pay a month's rent for the same price.  In an effort to be a responsible adult, I decided that, tempting though they were, it was ludicrous to drop that much cash on a pair of shoes.  Or, for right now with my current not-employed-in-CA-yet job status it is unwise, to say the least. 

Le sigh... Louboutin = Perfection

It became apparent that I would have to expand my scope - I had to have them before my first fitting for the hem length (you KNOW that dress is going to have to be shortened, regardless of how high those shoes are.  Unless I wear stilts.  Not happening.)  Originally I wasn't considering silver as I was really hoping for a bright pop of color or something else that was slightly different and, dare I say, edgy and unexpected.  I begrudgingly admitted that I would not have those dream shoes.  And I was ok with that.  Something wonderful could still be found if I kept my eyes open.  As luck would have it, I ended up at another Nordy's and found them:  strappy - yes, sparkly - yes, tall - yes (3.5"), non-chunky stiletto heel - yes, and for the bonus, walkable/danceable - after taking several laps around the shoe dept, yes!  Score!  AND - ON SALE!  Double score!  They're silver, so not my ideal color, but everything else is on the mark!  I'm still casting sidelong glances at Aldo and other hunting grounds, but I'm happy with what I've got.  More importantly, I'm ecstatic about the dress and even more over the moon about the groom - so really, the most important things are already taken care of. :) 

Bitter & Sweet

24 hours from now I'll be starting my final concert at the school where I work.  Last hurrah, final bows, curtain call, whatever name you use, it's still the same - The End.  Over the course of the past few days several people have asked how I'm feeling about this and, for lack of either a better word or creativity, I've been using the word, "bittersweet" as a blanket response.  And, I suppose, bittersweet does sort of sum up how I'm feeling in a nice, neat sort of way.  Since I've been tossing this word around like it's going out of style, I wanted to consider just what was bitter and what was sweet about this whole thing.

Bitter:  It is The End and I like my job, and (most of the time) I like my students.  My colleagues are fun, supportive, and tolerate my quirky tendencies rather respectfully.  I will miss them.  A lot.  I feel as though I've made an impact and just when I feel like I'm starting to hit my stride, I'm gone.  Poof.  There are some students I have worked with for several years as private voice students - I wanted to see them grow as musicians and as people.  There are some I just got to know and have seen them come out of their self-conscious teenage shells and I wish I could see them continue to emerge. 

Sweet:  While I am sad that I am leaving, the reason for my leaving is an extremely happy and exciting one.  My fiance was afforded an incredible job opportunity, one we had considered only a dream, and it has proven to be exactly the right move.  We adore the San Francisco area - when we visited a few years ago I fell in love and we wistfully talked about moving there one day, but again, really only talking in dreams.  (Though I'm clearly meant to live in/near a city with an area named after decadent, gourmet chocolate.  I'm talking to you, Ghirardelli Square.  I'm comin' back.) 

So, yes, despite my overuse, it is an overall appropriate word.  But I'm also feeling confused, sad, relieved, surreal, proud, and, in a strange way, excited.  I guess the confusion comes from being torn between feelings of sadness and excitement with everything this brings.  Sad, well, that's a no brainer.  I'm not much of a crier - it's a rarity really - so I wonder if the emotion of it all will bring me to tears.  I feel like it's expected on one level, odd as that may sound.  Why wouldn't I cry?  It's sad, right?  And neither my mom nor Kevin are able to be there for it.  It doesn't make sense with all the other travel expenses we have this year - we all have to make sacrifices.  This is important, and it won't be right without them there, and it leaves this empty place for me, but regardless of all that it just wasn't in the cards.  And that's ok. 

And yes, there is a big sense of relief.  There always is with any performance, no matter how big.  This is the culmination of a semester's worth of hard work and to have it come together successfully and be behind me will be a relief, no doubt about it. 
Surreal?  Well, yeah.  I've been playing this moment over and over in my head for months now, trying to imagine what it'll feel like to actually be in the moment up there on stage, conducting my final pieces.  To finally have it staring me in the face is surreal.  It's like when Kevin proposed or I tried on my wedding dress and had the veil on - both totally surreal times.  I had this "Someone needs to pinch me, quick!" type reaction.  These moments I had imagined for so long finally happening - takes my breath away. 

I can say without hesitation that I am proud of the work I've done.  This concert, along with all my previous concerts, were huge undertakings and I am extremely proud of my students for rising to the occasion again and again.  And yes, I'll be egotistical and pat myself on the back for a job well-done, too.  I taught them how to sing in French, Portuguese, and Latin.  They learned music aurally - I didn't give them any music for some pieces because it wasn't in keeping with the traditions of the genre.  They have learned to improvise harmonies around a melody with a given chord progression.  It wasn't easy, but they got there.  I am proud that I pushed them and made them learn to do those things. 

Finally, excited.  Yes, I am excited in an odd way.  When this concert is behind me, it's really go time:  We get to rehearse music for the wedding, my packing and moving becomes more eminent, I'll get to spend time working on my own job hunt... It's like the jumping point for everything else. 

When the curtains close and everyone leaves, I'll feel satisfied knowing I did a good job.  They're ready, I'm ready - it's time.  Yeah, I might cry, and that's ok.  I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm celebratory, I'm nervous, I'm all these things and then some.  It's bittersweet.  

It's just a jump to the left...

Where did this seemingly sudden impulse to organize your thoughts in the form of a blob stem from, you may ask?  Let's do the time warp a bit for some context: (Cue dissolve a la Wayne's World:  Diddly-oop, diddly-oop, diddly-oop…. )

The second half of 2010 until MLK weekend of 2011 were tough times for Kevin and I for reasons beyond our control.  I'll refrain from going into detail, but needless to say we made it and are now all the stronger for having come through that rough patch still together and committed to one another.  After MLK weekend of 2011, things started to look up, but we were far from being in the clear.

Since September 2011 the following things have happened: 
1.  Kevin applied for and was offered a fantastic job in Redwood City, CA working with an internet company.  We thought it was a long shot when he first applied, but then the application led to a phone interview.  Then an in-person interview.  Then, the night of call-backs for the fall musical at school, as I sat in the theater wrangling through the complexities casting with the drama and dance teachers, I got the following text:  "Got the offer and it's good.  We're going to CA!"  My heart leaped, danced, and did this weird twitchy sort of thing all at the same time, or so it felt.  This job was potentially the answer to so much, including my prayers.  It was a huge wash of relief.  Then came the wave of excitement with the thought of switching Bay areas, from Chesapeake to San Francisco, which just screamed, "Adventure!"  But wait… I was just getting the hang of the whole Baltimore scene - we had our favorite places, our social circles.  Just pick up and leave?  Across the country?  And what about my job… I have a good job and the thought that I had just potentially cast my last show really struck hard.  On the one hand, it was totally crazy.  On the other hand, it would have been flat-out insane to turn down.  Bittersweet as it may have been.  We knew he had to go.  Hard as it was, it was exactly what we needed to have happen.

2. No CA for me right away as I still had to finish out the school year.  I wasn't sure if I was heading out to CA in the fall of 2012 at this point or not.  There was so much still up in the air.  So, the moving process began.  Boxes, bubble wrap, and piles of things to charity all started to file in and out of Kevin's house.  Meanwhile, I was trying to plan a going away party worthy of such a tremendous occasion. 

3.  The proposal:  Kevin proposed at his bon voyage party on Oct 22nd (SQUEEEEEE!  He is amazing and the whole evening was perfect!)  So many friends and family were there, so it was an instant engagement party!  Yes, he had talked to mom - he's a smart one. :)  And I thought things had been exciting and life changing before!  Now, there was a wedding to plan!!!!  Oh yeah… and that sort of finalized this being my last year at  my school.  Again, twinge of sadness amidst the abundance of joy we were all feeling. 

I was giving a toast when the Kevin surprised me!  I'm holding a digital frame from everyone as a going away present.  Guess he showed me up on the gift giving for the evening!

I give this engagement a big thumbs up! 

3.  I turned 31 a week later (God, that's just still so unreal to write.  31.  I feel like I should be so much more of an adult than I am now.) 

4.  Kevin flew to CA the next day.... I didn't see him again until March 16.  Four and a half months.  Why?  Flights are freggin' expensive and with a wedding, move, and other unfortunate "life" expenses we knew we had to make tough decisions.  This was one of them.  Hey, we're trying to be adults here.  It's not easy.

...Meanwhile... The fall musical had a successful run and I was still reeling with the thought of it being my last show at this school. Thanksgiving came and went and, mom by my side, I bought my wedding dress and settled on a reception venue.  The huge Christmas program at school happened and while I knew it was my last, very few others did.  It was weird.   Christmas was festive and 2012 rang in but holidays didn't feel the same with Kevin on the other side of the country.  Singing Valentines in February came around.  (I had my a cappella ensemble serenade Kevin over the phone with "Never Gonna Give You Up."  Yup, that's right, we Rick Rolled him.)  Then finally FINALLY February ended and it was March.  I had been waiting to flip my desk calendar to March since Oct 31st when Kevin left. 

5.  SPRING BREAK!  It was surreal flying out to CA, counting down not months, weeks, or days but mere hours, minutes, seconds, and footsteps left until we were finally together again. Delta decided to toy with my emotions and cut my short layover of 25mins to a mere 10mins due to a flight delay.  Luckily, Tony Horton and P90x had helped me get into good enough shape to literally run through the Minneapolis airport (gate F5 to Gfreggin'22 thankyouverymuch) and arrive as they were calling for final boarding.  If those doors had closed with me not on the plane it would have been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night for everyone working in that concourse.  Trust me. 

6.  Over break we:  Found an apartment to call home, did the necessary prenuptial preparations, visited his work where he got to show off his swanky fancy-pants Silicone Valley office, complete with brainstorming areas, brightly colored walls, and conference rooms named wacky things like "Happy Doughnuts."  (No joke, there really is one named that!) Then it was off to do more wedding prep stuff, register, and the go gallivanting around San Francisco for a evening.  I had a job fair and we decided to have a night out on the town and let me just say, the Tonga Room tiki lounge is something to behold!  Top things off with dinner with my cousin and his wife who live in San Fran, and then on the plane and back to B'more with me. 

7.  The very next weekend, off to a good friend's wedding in NC!  No rest for the weary.

Yay weddings!  We all used to work together in VA so it was awesome to celebrate together again now that we're all in different schools in different states. 

8.  Mom came in just after that for Easter and while she was in town we:  finalized the centerpieces, did the tasting with the caterer, bought wedding shoes and a rehearsal dinner outfit, saw my dress in person and bought a veil, and had both a "virtual" bridal shower and an actual wedding shower hosted by a dear friend and colleague of mine.  (Yes, you read that correctly - a "virtual" bridal shower.  I'll explain later.) 

Furiously trying to figure out the wedding themed word scramble!  At least I got "Erin," "Kevin," and "Moore."

Wanda is awesome!  She and her daughter-in-law threw a beautiful shower for me and I am so grateful to them both. 

I love this picture of my mom!

And I love this picture of my future mom-in-law!

9.  Mom left and now it's time to start packing up my apartment… the boxes are everywhere, I've already taken piles to donation centers, and my walls are becoming bare. Surprisingly, Zeke, stalwart bulldog that he is, doesn't always handle change well.  His naturally wrinkly moosh-face has a few extra worry lines with all the activity going on.  He has no idea what's in store still...

10.  My final concert at school is this week.  I'm still trying to put a finger on exactly how I feel about that.  It's a big mix of things for sure. 

So, that brings us up to the present.  And I'm exhausted and stressed just thinking about everything we've done and then everything still yet to do.  Hence, this blog.  If you stuck with me through all that recap, mad props to you.  You're a brave soul.  Or just bored on what, in Baltimore at least, is a cold, rainy Sunday.  I'm told they don't have many of those in CA.  Cold, rainy days that is - I imagine there are still an equal number of Sundays out there as there are here.  But, CA seems to sort of play by its own rules, so then again, maybe not.  I think I'm going to like it out there.  I just have to pack up the rest of my life in Baltimore, finish the school year, get married, and drive across the country before I finally get to fully realize that for myself.  You know, NBD.

3 Month Countdown

On Saturday, July 21st 2012 - exactly 3 months from today - I will be no longer be Erin Therese Farfaglia, but Erin Farfaglia Moore.  (Yes, I'm changing my name and dropping my middle name, but I'll perhaps go into the rationale and funny story behind my middle name in another post.)  I will be married to the love of my life who knows and understands me more than I thought possible.  It's ridiculously exciting and I am just about bursting with happiness - I'm like a constant "Squeeee!" factory right now - but before I get there I have a few other things to get through first.  And it's daunting.  Scary in fact.  And I'm not one to get easily scared, despite the myriad of paranormal television shows I, for some reason, find amusing.  (My Friday nights aren't complete unless I've seen Zac Bagins screaming his head off at some ghosts)  Anxious, sure.  Panicky, yeah that, too.  Over-reactive, oh you betcha.  But really and truly flat out scared?  Not typical for me. 

I've never really been much of a journal keeper - owner of many, completer of few.  If anything, my writing impulses are few and far between at best, coming only in times of great teen angst, college and quasi-adult drama, or the quarter-life crisis that ensued after working retail for a year after receiving my MAT for music education.  The need to jot down and organize my thoughts only happens when there's too much clutter in my head for me to sort through on my own.  Only child that I am, I am quite good at carrying on a full conversation with myself (or my ever tolerant and patient bulldog, Zeke) but that only helps so much.  Which brings me to the present:  I haven't had much need to really "journal" in the past few years - life has been relatively stable, and for that I am tremendously thankful. 

My adorabla baby, Zeke!

Now, however, things are in a bit of upheaval.  Actually, quite a bit of upheaval to be honest.  All of it good, really.  Compared to many people I know, I have very little about which I can complain.  The big things looking me in the eye right now are logistical problems - things that will require a little extra juggling and flexibility on my part.  Luckily, if there's one thing I've learned in my 7 years of teaching (holy crap, I've been a teacher for 7 years.  Weird.)  it's "Roll with it."  Things come up unexpectedly and if you get your panties in a wad over every little bump in the road your life will be miserable.  So, I'm rolling.  But, in rolling, I'm finding that I need an outlet.  I don't even really care if anyone really reads this - I need to sort out my thoughts because they each seem to want their fair say right now.  I started writing more details, but quickly realized that my propensity overwriting was making this a novella instead of a blog (Who has two thumbs and always had papers over the required length in high school and college?  This kid.)  From my limited understanding of both technology and blogs, I get the impression that this is a bad idea.  So, perhaps I'll actually write a few separate entries.  Oh, and since Kevin is the tech guru in this relationship, don't expect anything flashy.  I'm pretty proud I was able to successfully upload the above pic of Zeke.  Well, at least it looks like it uploaded successfully....? 

So, if you stumbled upon this, or are a friend/colleague just trying to kill a few minutes online sometime and decide to read this, let's see where this goes.  Ghost Adventures on Saturday nights is all reruns anyways, so this seemed like a good and somewhat productive/creative use of my time.  Probably kills fewer brain cells than watching GA at least.