This fine soggy morning, I am going up to NYC to see some Caravaggios. Caravaggio was a painter in the 17th century, and was something of a rock star way before rock was even born. He was your typical romantic artist, homosexual, violent type, or at least that's how they portray them in the media (then and now). Anyway, the Met has three Caravaggios, I think. There are only 7 in the whole US, so that's a pretty strong concentration.
We're going to meet our prof up there around 2 and get a lecture. But I'm up this early because Kev called at 7am. I thought there was something to worry about. He just thought we were leaving mega early. No way. 10am is much better. But I'm up, so I'm cleaning and obviously blogging. Because unlike normal people, who would just charge right through tasks they don't like, I prolong the pain through procrastination. Hello, thesis? But I digress.
There is some kind of terror alert for the subways today. So I'm thinking it's not the best time to try and navigate the system. Springing for a cab sounds like a better idea to me. But if I do that, have the terrorists won? I don't care, I just don't wanna die. And since Kev and I got into an accident in his pops' car, and I managed to be the only one who got hurt, I figure I shouldn't take chances.