you know you live in baltimore when…

inspired by an upcoming 48 hours away from “the greatest city in america,” i wrote this list on the stankass megabus to philly last week while listening to yes, “welcome to the jungle.” which makes me wonder: was axl rose in los angeles when he wrote that song? or was he really in…southeast baltimore??

you know you live in baltimore…

when your alley looks like a thrift shop
when you think you saw a squirrel in your yard, but it actually turned out to be a really big rat
when your “yard” is actually a cracked concrete pad
when you find chicken bones in your yard and you haven’t eaten chicken lately
when you discover the “trees” in your yard–and the trees in all of your neighbors’ yards–are just really big weeds
when you get a cat just to catch mice
when every dog you pass on the street is a “pit mix”
when you can’t figure out if the methhead across the street is 30 or 90
when your neighborhood crime listings read like the funnies
when the whapwhapwhap of helicopters lull you to sleep at night
when half your block smells like mothballs & old church basement during open-window season
when scary-ass ice cream trucks circle your neighborhood til midnight–and you’re not sure if they’re really selling ice cream
when there’s an earthquake in the middle of the day in the middle of the week and everyone’s home
when a construction dumpster is a community event
when half the basements on your block flood because someone stole all the copper piping out of rehab
when you roll over at least three plastic mini liquor bottles every time you park your car
when people save parking spots with orange cones in one inch of snow
when someone gets stabbed over a coned-off parking spot in one inch of snow

live in baltimore? recently escape? add yours below…

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keep your bumper stickers to yourself, dammit

thanks for the reminder! i'll be sure to keep that in mind while i get my honors student to ram your car.

for the most part, i cannot stand bumper stickers. i’ve actually been meaning to write about this for a while. here’s why:

 when you’re driving in front of me, especially in the city when we’re at a stop sign, seeing your 1,001 republican bumper stickers along with “[universal man symbol] + [universal woman symbol] = marriage” really just makes me want to ram into the back of your car over and over again. and we all know that’s not going to go well.

oh and i forgot about all the fetus anti-abortion stickers. those are real winners, too. esp. when it’s an old man driving the car. happy to know what you’d do with the female reproductive system you don’t have.

and those “my kid’s an honors student at [name of school]!”? topped off with those “AGAIN!” “AND AGAIN!” stickers for every subsequent honors semester? QUIT PUTTING PRESSURE ON YOUR KID! he or she’s already dealing with enough! stuff WE didn’t have to think about! like cyberbullying! so why should she or he worry if you’ll recognize his or her academic achievements on your bumper or not?? fer crying out loud. not everyone’s a friggin honors student anyway! what about your kid or kids that aren’t honors students? you got a bumper sticker for them? yeah, didn’t think so.

you know what i also love? when ppl buy really nice new cars, often expensive foreign ones, and then put a sticker or two on the bumper before if it’s even a week old. in a word: WHY?

those hippie-dippie we-love-the-earth-we-love-everyone-we-love-animals-and-music-and-trees bumper stickers piss me off, too. ESP. WHEN YOU FLIP ME OFF ON THE ROAD. poseur! peace and love my a**. (i’ve had religious zealots flip me off, too. WWJD? he sure as hell wouldn’t be flipping me off!)

basically, i don’t think bumper stickers should have ever been invented. i don’t want to know what political party the person driving in front of me is affiliated with. i don’t want to know their views on same-sex marriage or abortion or religion. or that they love the earth. if you loved the earth so much you wouldn’t be buying bumper stickers that are probably manufactured with, like, petroleum products and delivered to your hippie store in a big, black-smoke-spewing, gas-gussling TRUCK now would you? (i’m just saying.)

most bumper stickers make me mad, esp. when i’m sitting in traffic and there’s nothing better to do than read about the dumb things the person in front of me believes. there’s enough road rage already. let’s stop worrying about self-expression and drive. are ya with me? let’s talk about bumper stickers.

put your arm back in your car, dammit!

before somebody crashes into you and chops it off! i swear, some ppl really must not value their appendages or else they wouldn’t dangle them out their car windows!

i’ve seen it all summer, and while the warm weather’s still with us, i need to publicly say something before i burst: put. your arm. back. in your car.

now that i am an “experienced” driver (hey, i was a public transit city girl for a long time, this whole having-your-own-car is still somewhat new to me), i see how totally and completely easy it is to get in an accident. you look away, swerve as not to hit oh…a squirrel–or a deer…i don’t know, i mean, you can sneeze and hit something. what if that “something” is someone’s doggone squishy arm that they’re absentmindedly hanging out their driver’s-side window??? you don’t even need to get in an accident per se. you just need to brush up against it hard enough.

i don’t know about you, but my appendages are too damn important to me to hang out from my frigginass car window.

holly is sometimes guilty of this in the summer and it really irks me. granted, she doesn’t hang her entire arm out the window, but enough of it to make me feel lightheaded. i’m like, “BABE. COULD YOU GET. YOUR ARM. BACK IN THE CAR PLEASE.”

and she’s like, “BABE. CALM THE HELL DOWN. IT’S. FINE.”

then i put my hand over my eyes and shake my head and mumble some jewish-guilt ridden thing like, “that’s fine. you’re married now and it’s not just about you anymore. and if you want to hold your future children one day with your one and only arm, that’s your business. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

and then she shakes her head, probably silently wondering how in the hell she got mixed up with such a pain in the ass north jersey jew and then married her, no less.

in the words of my late grandmother: oy.

please don’t slash our tires b/c we’re steelers fans

alternate headline?

“what it’s like being a steelers fan in baltimore”

a.k.a. “please don’t shoot me” “please don’t yell at me” “please don’t paint my car purple” “please don’t choke me with purple-sprinkled dunkin’ donuts”

granted, maybe it was the wrong move to put on the steelers jeep tire cover on holly’s car. aaaaand….wearing my steelers jersey to my ravens-lovin’ office maaaaaay have been the wrong move today. [the longtime rivals will be battling it out this weekend; i don’t know a whole lot about football, but i do know whoever wins will be going on to the superbowl (which i still call the “superball.” i mean, it sounds so much better! whatever. i’m five. i realize this.)]

holly and i really weren’t thinking when we made our weekend plans a couple weeks ago. i’m going to nyc/nj to visit my family. she’s driving to western pee-ay to visit hers. (our first time apart since our wedding! two months ago yesterday, awwww) we looked at each other after the ravens won last weekend like a coupla deer in headlights:

WHAT WE’RE WE THINKING!!!!???? seperating for the final steelers playoff?? and against baltimore?? omG!

at least she’llbe with fellow steelers fans. i’ll be in northern jersey in a household where the last time a football game was on was probably during the reagan administration. so, yeah. oh well. hopefully my parents won’t run out of the house into the freezing cold after i start shouting at the tv. and hopefully i’ll keep it clean. [i accidentally dropped the f-bomb in front of my mom a while back when she was visiting. (hey! i ran over a curb! trying not to hit a personin a parking lot! cut me some slack, ppl! i swear i’m a good kid!) she was like, “JESSICA!” and i was like, “what?!” “do you know what you just said?” “umm…crap?” “no!” (i seriously forgot. i promise you. i think i immediately repressed the memory b/c i knew whatever was about to happen was going to be so painful.) “you said f***!” i don’t know which was more disturbing:  the fact that i cursed so badly (“eff” is a bad one in terms of parents. i’m sure i don’t need to tell you this) in front of my mom, or hearing her say it herself. maybe the latter?)]

and speaking of jersey…

i got a new car last night. japanese! yessss! so i’m cleaning out the remnants of my ’05 two-door chevy cavalier [hey, at least it was a sport model. and had a spoiler. so, yeah. still, it was a pretty lame car. (tho, when i was wearing one of my infamous bandana/frosty lipstick combos while driving, i did, in fact, truly look like a latina gangmember. all i needed were some glowing lights and a chainlink border around my license plate.)] last night in front of the dealership in the cold. and i’m not shedding a single tear about it. just before i shut the door for the last time, i’m like, oh! the cd player!

i press eject and what pops out? bon jovi. “new jersey” circa ’88 (?). that’s my heritage right there! don’t ever tell me i’ve lost my roots! you can take the girl outta jersey, but you can’t take the jersey outta the girl 😉

happy friday!!!