there’s certain things you hear in baltimore that you just don’t hear too much of in butler, PA (pee-ay) (that’s where we were for a week for xmas, just back monday night. i came down with the cold to end all colds while i was there. i’ll fill you in later). for starters, helicopters.
baltimore is a helicopter city. if it’s not the po-lice, then it’s the friggin news-copters. b/c there’s just always somethin’ going on. police chases, suspects on the run, something burning down. [a church burned down on our street last year. i was home sick that day and all the sudden it looked like a dust storm rollin by outside. i poked my head out the door, and turns out it was smoke. i was like, holy crap the church is on fire. and sho' nuff, there's the news helicopters. hopefully they didn't zoom down on me in my pjs and sneeks. (hey at least i wasn't wearing a terrycloth bathrobe and slippers) everyone came out to watch the fire. (nothing like a neighborhood fire to see who lives on your street!) i was like, don't any of you ppl work?? then, as i glanced around, i realized i didn't feel too bad in my pjs and sneeks, b/c i looked about the same (better, even!) as everyone else. ahh, baltimore.)
i have srsly digressed here. what i meant to tell you is that even tho we came home to two dead mice (haha, i'm laughing b/c i just remembered that nursery rhyme, "three blind mice/see how they run." hell, in this town you're lucky if the mice don't mug you. i couldn't give a rat's ass if they're blind or not. [we found a rat's ass in the backyard over the summer. 'nother story for 'nother day. (props to becky to throwing it out. thanks, becky!)] and the usual debauchery of our ‘hood (namely, drug dealers and hookers), i kinda missed it! i heard the familiar whapwhapwhapwhap of helicopters overhead and i…i kinda got the warm n fuzzies!
i’ll never forget when nicolina came to visit our place for the first time over the summer. we were on our roof (deck) and here come the ‘copters! it wasn’t nighttime, so there were no searchlights. (searchlights get esp. exciting when they actually make their way into your home. can you say duck & cover??) but she was like, omg! this is just like THE WIRE! i can’t wait to tell my mom!! i was like, wait til the sun goes down, baby. then the real fun starts.
so back monday night to the noise and the dirt [and yes, two dead mice; hey, don't judge. you try sharing your rowhome walls with a overpopulated rental on one side and a shut-in old man with newspapers and books to his ceilings (we've never seen this; an exterminator told us) on the other], the alley cats (we have a lot of them; don’t even get me started) and low-ridin caddys w/tinted windows, which our fair city has no shortage of (never honk at them, holly sternly warns me; don’t worry, baby, i won’t. maybe if i had a death wish, but i don’t so, haha, i def. won’t). we passed the famous baltimore smokestack (above; photo taken on a clear day earlier this month. not bad for a cell pic!)–which sits just off I-95, and as much as i (and everyone else) love it, hell if i know what company it’s associated with or what sort of product it’s involved in manufacturing–before our exit, and, tho i was highly nauseated by my aforementioned cold (which i still have, and for the record, is one of the very worst i’ve ever had) and our 5 hr ride, i was like ahhhh, we’re back. never ever thought i’d think something like that about baltimore.
i swear, i used to hate it here. i hated moving to baltimore from dc. it’s funny how things change, you know? it’s not like i love it here, but i definitely don’t shiver every time i hear someone say “baltimore” like i used to. haha. see that? never say never.
it’s new year’s eve tonight. nicole (i.e. nicolina) and i have assured one another that 2009 is going to be the best yet. i’m kind of thinking that, too. so whatever all of you are doing tonight, stay safe, have fun and if a low-ridin cadillac (usually with superloud bass seeping out) with tinted windows is driving ahead of you and the driver doesn’t put on his/her blinker and turns suddenly, for crying out loud, don’t honk at it. even if you’re not in baltimore. ok?? haha. ok.
happy ‘09!! here’s to your resolutions if you’ve got any! here’s to never saying never!
is it just me or does that seem…weird? it’s like, you know, while i’m picking up some bread and milk, i think i’ll grab a $25 piercing pagoda gift card for my niece/nephew/cousin/goth colleague, etc. b/c, really, what could be more special than a new navel/tongue/etc. ring for xmas? or, better yet, a couple new holes in the ol lobes? i think the cards even have snowflakes on them–or holograms, at least.
i’ve been a terrible blogger lately. mostly b/c i’ve been grumpy and stressed for a variety of reasons i won’t go into. but i do see some light at the end of the tunnel: we’ll be gettin outta dodge (dodge being baltimore, of course) “here in a minute,” as holly would say in her pittsburghese, up to “PEE-AY” for the holiday. hopefully this will help unwind me. i’m also feeling positive–inspired by my dear nicolina–about a great ‘09. i’m also keeping optimistic about holly’s ongoing job search, yes, despite the tanking economy. i’m feeling hopeful about our president-elect. there’s more, too, but instead of going on, i’m going to post some fun seasonal pics from around bmore. all taken on my cell phone (from the car, hence the movement), so they’re not the best quality but they’re still pretty cute.
these two are from hampden’s famous 34th street. cars wind around like crazy to check out this one teeny block! the sidewalks are packed and i think folks let you into their houses, too! only in bawlmer, hon! it’s awesome.
a tree in a window! wait, a tree in a window? sure, why not! it’s bawlmer! [not in hampden this time (but it could fit in there!), but patterson park]
and a really streaky one on pratt street. the city’s famous inner harbor is to the right. they have these over-the-road lights up the entire street. in neighboring little italy, too. (if ya squint, you can make out the hard cafe guitar on top of the power plant on the right)
so merry christmas! happy channukah/hannukah/however you like to spell it (heck, i’m jewish and pretty much spell it different every time). happy kwanzaa. happy almost-new year. don’t forget to pick up your piercing pagoda gift card at safeway, k? cause i rilly need some new, like, belly rings and piercings and stuff and mom doesn’t want me to get any more and i just spent my last $15 at hot topic. ok? omg thanks.
i’ve had a lot of hairstyles in my 30 years. but these days, it’s longer than ever. i’m so happy about this that, yes, i’ve decided to devote a whole entry to it. and here’s how i’ve been wanting to start it off:
i love having hair long enough that i can pull it around to my nose and smell my shampoo. when you have short/shortish hair (which i had for years), you never know how your shampoo/conditioner smells in your hair! it’s true, oh come on, girls (and some guys), you know it’s true. and if you’re reading this and you have long hair, don’t even tell me you don’t get a secret thrill out of breathing in the scent of your wonderful-smelling hair.
i noticed this over the summer after i started using probably the best-smelling shampoo/conditioner ever (matrix’s sleek look line. and i promise i’m not getting paid to say that. hell, i wish i was! matrix, are you reading this?? i will be your new spokesperson!). maid of honor (moh)/bff nicolina was visiting from the west coast. we were outside walking around, maybe waiting to cross the street? and she was like, “omg, your hair smells soooo good.” and i was like “OMG RILLY?” and then i took a handful, pulled it around to my nose and was like, omg, it does. and omG it’s so long. like all the sudden it hit me. [i've since sent nicole her very own bottles and will randomly get txt msgs along the lines of "omg my so hair smells so good! omg ijs." (hi nicole! omg ily ijs ttys!)
the whole thing's got me thinking about all the hairstyles i've had, many of them, looking back on it now (20/20 hindsight, i always say), bad. the photo above, i will sheepishly admit, wasn't taken all that long ago. it's from my "bad weave" facebook album. yeah, i decided to get pinkish-purplish extensions. they quickly lost their color. and i quickly proceeded to fry them with my one-inch flat iron [yes, i have curly hair; i straighten it w/a 400 degree flat iron almost every day (luckily, i've got it down to a science and it doesn't take too long)]. they became frazzled, puffy, awful things. holly has always been supportive of my hair adventures, but this was the only time she ever downright disapproved. before they even got terrible-looking, she was like, “honey, i feel like i don’t even know you anymore. i don’t like them.” i was like: woh. this is bad.
i took matters into my own hands and removed them on my own. bad decision. i won’t give you details, but i think i’ve got a bald spot somewhere on my head, tho i haven’t been brave enough to really look. whatever. they’re out now. i’m much happier. so is holly. and i shall say: never again.
i think i told you about the year my hair was so big (ha, i’m starting to chuckle as i write this) that it didn’t fit w/in the frame of my school photo (that was also The Year of the Knot So Big That Mom Had to Team Up With Grandma to Comb it Out; baaaaad year). it was second grade, i think, and i decided to ignore what was written on the bottles in shower and i think i was using conditioner instead of shampoo (cause and effect re: huge, photo-frame-defying hair). (my mom was so nice and said, “i think we won’t buy copies of your school photo this year.” and i–clueless, as always–was like, “ok.”)
when i was three years old, i decided i wanted to cut my hair “like my brother’s.” (i know: gay.) i have a distinct memory of standing in my room with child-size scissors, snipping at my bangs. my mom was calling for me, asking what i was doing. soon i was standing in front of her downstairs (in elastic waistband pants and velcro sneeks) as she asked me–probably trying not to laugh–what i’d done. i’d cut my hair just like my brother’s, i explained. (an art teacher, my mom’s always believed in us kids expressing our creativity, so it’s not like i got in trouble or anything. plus, what was she going to do about it after the fact? i also cut the sleeves off one of her sweaters around that time. i was one of those kids who “got into things.” more stories for another day.)
i’ve done it curly and i’ve done it straight. did the whole angled, short-in-the-back-longer-in-the-front thing in the mid-90s (another bad look). i tried, desperately, to tease and spray my bangs up like all the cool italian girls (i’d say 75 percent of the kids i grew up with were italian) did back in the late 80s, early 90s. (that also failed miserably, as my thick, eastern european hair was just to heavy to, er, stay up like that.) then in ‘99 i decided to just go whole-hog and cut it all off [see below (i know. the photo’s crooked. i’ve basically never scanned anything in my life except two photos and that’s one of them); and yes! ani difranco w/me! (in the basement bar of dc’s 9:30 club) i interviewed her for our college newspaper back in the day. she was extremely nice and generally awesome.) which was fun, but boring (my hair, not the interview). plus growing it out was another disaster. (can you say, um, jew fro??? yeah, notsofun, growin’ out a ‘pixie cut’ when you have said thick, curly eastern european hair)
i must say, at the moment, i’m happy with my hair, and have absolutely no plans to cut it anytime soon. i also must give three snaps in a z formation to holly for standing by my side the past 7.5 yrs as i went thru at least 10 different styles and quite a few colors (including the whole kelly clarkson chunky stripe thing. so outdated and so expensive and such high maintenance (esp. the red; yes i had the red. oy.). thanks for loving me thru the thick (hair) and the thin. also really bad extensions. and probably a bald spot or two. but like i said, i’m not certain about that and i’m really not all that interested in checking.
on saturday afternoon we got a phone call. holly picked up, and judging by her side of the conversation, it sounded like a survey. i was surprised when a) she didn’t hang up and even more when b) she handed me the phone.
“here,” she said with a shrug. “they want to talk to the second-oldest person in the household.”
intrigued, i got on the phone. turns out it was a maryland department of health & mental hygiene survey (i’ve always wondered about the term “mental hygeine,” (iJs) but anyway) about smoking and tobacco use. so i’m like, ok, this sounds totally legit and as a journalist, i’m down with helping out with statistical info. the survey lasted a while. maybe 10 or 15 minutes. at the end, she asked about my marital status. there were the usual choices, and i was like, in my most polite voice (yes, i can be polite) b/c this nice survey lady has nothing to do with the laws in maryland,
“well, i’m married. i mean, i just had a wedding a month ago. but in the eyes of the state, i’m not married. so yeah, i guess you’ll have to put me down as ’single.’”
she was like, “oh.”
she put me down as unmarried but living w/someone or something.
honestly, it kinda stung. no, it definitely stung. it was a slap in the face from this state that i live in and that i bleed taxes to. like i said, i wasn’t mad at the nice survey lady, i was just irritated. that after a $XX-thousand-dollar wedding with a rabbi and 150 guests and a handmade wedding dress that i literally bled for (hey, those pins are sharp! ok, i’m being dramatic, but still) and family drama and wonderful best people (i.e. wedding attendents), i’m still considered “single” in the eyes of the state.
it didn’t get me down. i mean, my feathers were ruffled for a couple minutes but i got over it quickly. it just really irks me that i can’t get holly on my health insurance while she’s looking for a new job and we have to hire a lawyer to draw up power of attorney paperwork, etc. b/c G-d forbid anything happens to either one of us, we have no legal rights: can’t visit each other in the hospital, can’t make decisions for each other–nothing.
a couple weeks after the wedding, i joked to holly that we were “unlawfully wedded” and, truly, we are. i’m one of those ppl who jokes around about stuff to feel better, and joking around about our legal “marital status” makes it sting a little less, but it still sucks.
sorry to get all debbie downer on ya on a monday morning. other than that, we had a fabulous weekend.
friday night, we hung out w/some of our favorite boys (including two of my best ppl and closest friends andrew and john) for justin’s photography opening at tangysweet (GREAT YOGURT OMG). saturday night we went to prob. one of the best holiday parties *ever* at this venue called the elm–which is actually someone’s *house*–in baltimore’s hampden neighborhood. august and julie made this kickass winter wonderland backdrop for photos and we were all taking these funny prom-like pics in front of it. of course, the later it got, the sillier the pictures got. (see below!)
yesterday we bought all this fresh *pizza dough* at our fav little italian deli/grocery (more on that another day; omg. best. italian. place. ever.), went to the mawl to get a pizza stone with one of our wedding giftcards and holly proceeded to make some of the best pizza (w/homemade sauce, YES i married a fabulous cook) i’ve ever sunk my teeth into. this was all for our little ravens (baltimore) vs. steelers (pittsburgh, PEE-AY) get together last night (i will not publicly trash talk but let’s just say we were happy w/the outcome). in between all of that, my bookclub was treated to complimentary tix (thanks, renee!) to see “caroline or change” at baltimore’s centerstage, which was awesome. we took an informal survey and it turns out that, yup, we all cried. hey, us bmore bookclubbers may get loud sometimes (ok, all the time) but we’re big ol softies inside…
like madonna (for those of you unfamiliar w/my endless love for the material girl, take a look at my homage to madge on her 50th birthday), my love for cyndi knows no bounds. i finally saw her in concert over the summer and omG. tears. like, real tears. streaming down my face. (kind of like when dorothy gets married and leaves the house for the last time on the very last episode of the golden girls. omG don’t even get me started on that! i swear, it’s like i can’t stop crying. like i said: gay man.) in other words: she did NOT disappoint. her fabulousness was just…unbelievable. (plus she looks *amazing*)
the best part is that she’s hella nice. i interviewed her for a dc entertainment monthly a few years ago (over the phone; please, i think i would have fainted in person) and she was so great. we talked for over an hour. swoon. such a legend. can’t even deal. (ask me about her skin regime and i will gladly spill the dirt re: her fave anti-aging product)
so fast-forward to last night. i’m making a mix for a certain faaaaabulous accountant-by-day/photographer-by-night(who’s having his very first solo show tonight!! yeehaw! HI STRONGMAN!), putting a cyndi lauper song on it, ‘natch and the itunes “genius” thingy suggests this one cyndi song. it sounded familiar, i suspected it was from her new album. it is. and omg. goosebumps. best song i’ve heard in ages. (i know this old news to some of you but forgive me, as i was in a pre-wedding stupor until, like, yesterday.)
i find the video on youtube (which of course i can’t embed here so i’m trying to do it a different way) so i can listen to it, and now i’m absolutely convinced there is a gay man inside of me screaming to get out. this video’s gayer than sh*t. i absolutely love it. click below and kick off that weekend baby yeah….
remember the human adaption of how the grinch stole christmas? (starring jim carrey as the evil grinch) yeah, but, um, is it just me or does sleezy ill. gov. blagojevich kinda resemble a lil who in dr. seuss’ whoville? more specifically, the grinch? (i mean, iJs.) the scandal is perfect timing for christmas, no??
the stupidity of politicans continues to amaze me. i mean, it shouldn’t, but it does. (and some of them just have a “wide stance” in public bathrooms. and nope, i can’t spare a square.)
i mean, i haven’t gotten my lunches packed since, gosh, probably elementary school? [no, no, i wasn't raised by wolves. (plus, there's no wolves in new jersey. ijs.) i just opted for the cardboard cafeteria pizza and juice drinks (whhhhyyyy??) once i got to middle school. (there's probably a crust of that pizza or a some renegade fake cheese hiding out somewhere in my intestines. ok, that's gross. but again: iJs.)] but srsly, if you stop to think about it, there’s something so special about getting your lunch packed.
it’s hard to put my finger on…maybe b/c the mere fact that someone does that for you means they care about you. and if you’re lucky, there’s a little something extra special in there for you–a note, maybe, in mom handwriting (“i love you” or “have a great day!” or “see you soon, honey!”) or a nice little dessert. the whole thing gets me nostalgic (i’m probably the most nostalgic person ever). so you’re probably asking yourself: why is she writing about this anyway?? here’s why:
now that holly’s home a good portion of the day (she was laid off in october, three weeks before our wedding. don’t even get me started), not only is she available to cook dinner [she's a GREAT cook. messy, but great (hi, hunny! i'm sure you'll read this sometime today...)] but she packs me LUNCH!
and you know how i feel about lunch. big fan of lunch. huuuuuuge.
these days, the lunches are leftovers, which i love. and the way she packs them is just so special. like, she puts everything in all these different tupperware containers and plastic baggies and knows i like this separated from that (i’m incredibly picky about these things) and wraps things in tin foil so nicely. this morning (after she made me a delicious egg & cheese sandwich) she put my lunch is one of the leftover gift bags we have from the wedding (used as welcome bags for out-of-towners staying in our hotel wedding block), which, fittingly enough, are made of brown paper bag material.
so i’m running around like crazy this morning, kinda grumpy from a headache (from today’s double-digit temperature jump, no doubt) and not feeling like i want to leave the house at all. and she’s like, “here’s your lunch, honey!” and i look down into this bag, and just above the lil ziploc bag of tositos (to go w/the tiny container of salsa she packed for me, awww) sit two of those super mini candy bars (milky way darks; also from wedding) and i’m like, “awww, hunny!” (yes, i’m a huge sucker for, well, pretty much anything.) i gave her a hug and a kiss and the world, despite the rain outside, suddenly became a much brighter place. and seeing how it’s just after 11 am, you know i’m gonna be breakin’ into that lil lunchbag soon. (but i’ll probably save the candybars til later) it’s really the little things in life, you know?
so now that the wedding is over, i can finally roll out some of the recurring features that will grace the virtual pages of lunch at 11:30 from here on out. the first one is……..
(drumroll please!)
weird baltimore windows!
ok, so if you’re not from baltimore or haven’t spent much time here (esp. in the city’s rowhome neighborhoods), you’re probably scratching your head. i’ll explain:
baltimore’s famous for a few things, its rowhomes are one of them. [along with director john waters, its inner harbor and ummmm, gosh, what else? oh, johns hopkins. aaannnnd…oh! edgar allen poe, who lived and died here, i think. (if you can think of anything, pls let me know and i’ll add your suggestions.) oh! just thought of another one: the wire. also charm city cakes of the food network’s ace of cakes. anyway, so these rowhomes. they have basements with street-facing windows. ours is full of glass blocks b/c yeah, safer. but other folks–esp. old timers who have spent decades in their rowhomes–are braver (or just clueless or just don’t care or refuse to believe that bullets can and will fly thru basement windows) and take great pride in their basement windows. so they decorate them for passerbys. some stay the same thru the year, others change with the seasons (valentine’s day is a biggie ’round here). regardless of the time of year, holly and i have passed some doozies on our frequent walks thru our neighborhood over our 2+ yrs living in the city, and my goal is to share some of the very best with you. so! w/out further ado, weird baltimore window #1:
figurines are bigwhen it comes to baltimore’s basement windows. tho i don’t see a direct connection between these. i mean, there’s a lady in a fancy dress. and flamingos. (flamingos are also way big in baltimore b/c of john waters’ famously dirty film, pink flamingos) and, like, a backyard-type bird over on the left. so yeah, there ya have it: weird baltimore window #1. (i know you wanna come visit now! oh don’t even. i know you do )
does your life ever suspiciously resemble a movie? like, in its ridiculousness?
a lot of things–ok, a whole helluva lotta things–have been happening to me lately where i just have to shake my head b/c i honestly feel like i’m in a movie. [or a bad (gay) reality show.] until now, much of it has revolved around our wedding. now that that’s had time to settle down (i.e. it’s over but family fallout drama continues), other crap is seeping in. like this:
recently–what was it, saturday, early evening?–holly & i went to our local safeway supermarket. we finally make our way to the cashier. he’s this kid, i mean, maybe early 20s i figure? kind of trying to rock the half-mutasche/goatee (half b/c i guess he’s still going thru a delayed puberty or something; whatever, i’m not making fun, i’m just saying) thing. anyway, as he’s waiting for us to swipe our card and go thru the million tap-on-screen friggin safeway buttons to pay for the darn stuff, he simultaneously takes a firm hold of the top of his head in one hand and his chin in the other. oh, i know that grip, i think. the neck crack. have you done or seen that before? you pull your head one direction and your chin in the other. and if you’re “lucky,” your neck will let out a crack loud enough to wake the dead. yeah, totally used to do it all the time. my back also (which you accomplish thru this weird twist. i won’t go into it b/c i’m sure it’s bad for you). not hatin’ on it b/c i’ll be the first to admit that all that feels goooood.
holly said something first. something along the lines of “woah.” and then of course i have to chime in, seeing how i was suffering from a migraine–or just got thru one, i forget–and, thru many doctors and many tests, i’ve discovered that a lot of them begin in my neck. now i don’t know if there’s an absolute connection between all my middle school/high school/college/post-college neck-cracking and these terrible migraines i get, but if i could go back in time and erase all those hundreds (probably, yuck, thousands) of neck cracks even if it gave me the slightest chance of fewer headaches, i would.
anyway, i’m like, in all my 30 years of wisdom, “you know, i used to crack my neck like that all the time. now i go to the chiropractor sometimes two times a week b/c my neck’s screwed up so badly.”
and the little punk looks at me like i have two heads and is like, “yeah, but i’m still young.”
and i’m like: ohnoyoujustdidn’t. so i’m like, “how old are you anyway?”
i think at this point he’s scared. i was shooting fire out of my eyeballs at him, i’m sure. so i sure as hell would be, too.
he’s like, “i’m almost 21.”
and then i’m like, “so how old do you think i am anyway???”
he shrugs and he’s like, “26, 27 tops.”
and i’m like, “well, i’m 30 and i’m not that old.”
the whole thing reeked of bridget jones. (love both those movies but don’t wanna live ‘em if you know what i mean)
what i really wanted to do was go on a rant about, “don’t you know ANYTHINGabout women?? and what am i, 95 or something??” but instead i shut up (something i’ve only very recently learned how to do) and just fumed and of course when we got outside i let loose w/my usual jersey “effin’” this and “effin’” that. holly knowingly chuckled (she’s a tad older than me).
i guess when we all get to a “certain age” we all rack up these kinda stories, the first of which is always the most painful, i’m sure. but i’m just like, what the hell, you know? half the time ppl ask me if i just graduated college [probably b/c somehow i’m always in denim (sometimes even rockin a jean jacket, too. i know i know fashion no-no but whatev) and most of the time, like, kitten heels or black pumas or something. the frosty lipstick/bangs/gum combo also prob. helps) but now this? i know i know, he’s just a kid from baltimore. he didn’t mean anything by it. but it was annoying. and i just thought i’d share.
the whole experience has me thinking about those “movie” moments. and it occurs to me that those moments are written into movies b/c they actually happen. so, if you all would care to share your most memorable “movie moments,” by all means, let loose. i’d so love to hear them.
what you’ve all been waiting for! (us, too!) i haven’t seen all of ‘em yet, just what our ridiculously awesome photog posted to her blog. but here’s a few of my favs:
i promise, there’s more to come. my goal is to walk you thru the day with photos and text. jaime (our photographer) wrote the most beautiful recap of the day here, under the heading “love conquers all.” and honestly, i think it does. even as our economy kind of, well, collapses (and we’re suffering from that, too) and our one-day plans to go to cali and “make it legal” sort of, yeah, also collapsed, we need to remember how important our loved ones are in our lives. i feel so blessed to have found someone to love me unconditionally–despite all of my neurosis (oh, and i have many) and my headaches and my occasional (maybe more than occasional?) badass jersey ‘tude–for the rest of my life. the great news is that our lives are just getting started. with holly by my side, i’m so much stronger–so much. we will take on this world together.
happy friday, everyone!! here’s to a restorative weekend. i think we could all use one of those.
)
