Sometime You Wanna Go...Where Everybody Kinda Knows Your Name

I like being regular. Wait, I mean, I like being A regular, especially when it comes to bars and restaurants. There's nothing quite like the feeling of walking into an establishment and feeling immediately recognized and welcome. I've tried to achieve that feeling everywhere I tend to go: hair salons, auto body shops, take-out restaurants, etc. However the only place that has seemed to take root is a local Indian restaurant right in Towson called Cafe Spice.

Joe, another one who shares that unending mission to find his "place" (and did so for a while at Fazzini's, the Italian restaurant back in Timonium), and I would often meander over to Cafe Spice over the weekend to partake in their buffet. Before we moved whenever we got a hankering for some samosas and tikka masala we would walk to India Palace, where we felt we were beginning to become regulars but for some reason, out of nowhere, the same guy that usually waited on us turned slightly chilly, and we never regained our hold.

Still, it was the convenience and food we thought we would miss more, so when we moved to Towson we were happy to find another Indian place that was both in walking distance and held a weekend buffet. We began going so often in fact that we soon became recognizable to the owner, who always sat us and asked how we were. We began striking up conversations about her food, the weather, her travels to India, even the details of her husband's surprise party. She never called us by our names; still, whenever she saw us walking down the ramp to her restaurant below she always greeted us with a wide smile.

Soon, the perks started to happen. After we were full a small dessert would magically appear before us. One of the most recent times we commented on a drink called lassi, and thought it looked refreshing. Lo and behold as we were digesting two small glasses of lassi were placed in front of us. Joe and I would just beam at each other: we had found "our place". So you can imagine how bummed we were when the owner informed us they were moving.

"But...where are you going?" we both asked, sadly.

"Up to Timonium area. Then we can have actual windows to see outside," she said smiling. She seemed excited so we didn't want to bring her down, but after she walked away we were stunned. How could our place be gone?

As we were leaving we promised her we would still come up and visit as often as possible, but Joe and I knew it wouldn't be the same. I mean, where else could we go that was stumbling distance away and satisfy our massive hunger for less than $8 each?

So it appears the quest will begin again. Maybe we should try something other than Indian. I hear the Roly Poly is in the market for regulars??

Keep The Old...

Can't tell if this fatigue I'm feeling is just end-of-week related, or lots-of-stuff-happening related or simply I-went-out-last-night-and-had-a-few-beers-and-some-whiskey-drink related, but anyway, I am lethargic.

But I haven't written in a few days, so let's catch up.

I got a message on facebook from an old childhood friend that's touring with Seussical the Musical and she said that their company was coming to Towson. When she had first posted that she was touring I mentioned to her to let me know if and when they come to the Baltimore/Washington area. Needless to say I was surprised they were not only coming to the area, but coming right into my neighborhood! We organized a time for me to pick her up from her hotel and we'd get dinner while catching up. I was excited, but truthfully a bit nervous as well.

I think it was because she IS a girl I have known most of my life, living in the same town and going to the same schools for all those years. She has seen me at my best (and worst), and yet, being adults now, I wanted to make sure I left a good impression, reminding her of my better moments, as opposed to my most awkward. It is here that I must pose a question..

It might have been a Louis C.K. joke, but still, don't you HATE it when you do something stupid, and even though it's not a big deal, you still just want to kill yourself? Wait for it...

I tried to think of a place near Towson that might impress her (although since she lives in New York, I knew it was going to be a challenge) and quickly turned into Razorbacks, a restaurant/bar nearby.

As we walked in and waited for the hostess, I felt pretty good. I was holding my own in our conversations, trading comments and quips like the old days. Then the hostess came back up and mumbled something while gathering menus. Because she was looking at us and holding the menus I immediately began following her, assuming she was taking us to our table.

I noticed my friend lagging behind and when my head finally came out of the clouds I realized I had nearly joined another group to their table. The other people smiled and laughed sympathetically (at the poor idiot girl), and I rejoined my friend, trying like hell to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal (meanwhile I was mentally tying a noose around my neck).

Thankfully we were both able to laugh it off, and my friend, god love her, was able to bring us right back to whatever we were talking about.

Oh well, friends, especially old friends, are still your friends because they share a ride in your memories. And they are still able to like you...even when you unintentionally nearly ditch them for a pack of hungry strangers.

Casi-nope

If I may tack one more thing on my list of vices, I have to declare I am a fan of gambling. Well, maybe not so much the poker or Black Jack kind of gambling; instead I prefer the blind luck of the slot machine. I can certainly understand why some choose the card games over machines, seeing as how you have at least SOME control in a card game. However, there's nothing quite like the instant gratification you experience when those lights go off and loud music starts to play from your machine, all pointing to you as if to say, "There is a winner right here!"

In fact, I'm a sucker for any kind of gaudy lights and fixtures, which brings me to my second love: the casino.

Over the years I have been able to visit several casinos ranging from the cheapest to the most extravagant. But while the casinos themselves may differ vastly, what hasn't changed much is my strict spending policy. Whatever cash I have is game, but after that, I call it quits. Well, at least, for the most part...

Anyway, I was really excited when I first heard that the law had passed for casinos to be built in Maryland, and even more so when the first one opened not too far away. Joe and I had been waiting for the opportunity to finally visit, and come Valentine's weekend, we finally had our chance.

We both woke up and dressed fairly early. I even took a few extra seconds to put an outfit together and fix my hair nice. We kissed the puppy goodbye and got on the road, figuring it would take about 45 minutes to get there. As we drove we discussed our plan; whether to eat first or play first, how long we ought to stay, our budget, etc.

When we finally pulled up, Joe looked around and said, "Wow...it's kinda small."

He was right, in fact we both agreed that it must've been the former movie theater for the area. This wasn't a bad thing, as we have seen casinos on the modest-side, but this was brand new, and looked like the only thing in town.

As we walked in, I immediately felt WAY over dressed. I don't know what gets into me- I practically shlub to work in old jeans, yet to sit in stiff chairs next to Grandma Smokes-a-ton and Bobby Blow-My-Retirement, I feel the need to dress to the nines.

We decided to opt for the brunch buffet, since it was still going on, and after a few plates we were dying to start playing. Of course, I was unprepared and without cash (a cardinal casino rule I hated to violate) so after eating a $4 ATM fee we split off to find our fortunes.

I stalked a few machines before I played, taking a look at the minimum bets. I usually like to stick to 2 cent or 5 cent slots, so I can spread my cash out. Unfortunately, in many cases here, the minimum bet was around 80 cents- not horrible, but really not great. I even sat at a machine that had a minimum bet of $1! That's fine if that's how much you were thinking to play anyway, but this was at a 5 cent machine! Worse, these slots simply swallowed your money with only an occasional small belch back. They were so bad in fact that Joe came back strolling over to where I was sitting before 45 minutes had passed.

"I'm out, already" he said simply. I nodded in agreement as I sent my last fruitless bet into the machine.

We walked out, disappointed at our bad luck, but even more so at how little the games let you play. Typically one of us is at least somewhat ahead, if not at least breaking even. Instead, it was as if we simply handed over our cash for nothing. I guess that's the biggest trick in a casino- to pay for however much you want to be entertained. You can't go in thinking you'll win.

Still, it feels soooo good when you do.....

The Long and Winding Road

...I made a left onto the first semi-used road I could find. I quickly realized that I was mistaken- it turned out to be one of those utility roads. I had to cross a single lane bridge (always nerve wracking) and then cross over another single lane road (with another car waiting on the other side, of course, because there is ALWAYS another car waiting).

I looked down at the road and it had turned into a residential road, winding up into the woods with houses and neighborhoods on either side. I was trying to enjoy my ride, but the disorientation combined with the strong winds kept my knuckles white and tight on the steering wheel.

At long last I came out into the open and quickly scanned for signs for 83, deciding the highway should've been my first choice. If there is anything worse than being lost, it;s being lost with someone riding your ass. You can never be lost WITHOUT someone right behind you, and almost always, that person is a local who has lived in the area their entire lives, knows their neighbors and their neighbors' neighbors, and doesn't understand the concept of people visiting and therefore, being lost.

I finally see the sign for 83 and after missing the turn (expected) and receiving a sarcastic honk from the car finally passing me (also, expected), I get on the highway. If the wind was threatening on the small windy local roads, they were downright violent on the highway. Though I maintain my new SUV's safety and girth, it still managed to get pulled and pushed like a toy. It freaked me out but nevertheless I was determined to have a damn adventure destination, so I decided to pull off at the next somewhat interesting stop. That stop? Shrewsbury/Stewartstown, Pennsylvania.

I noticed the signs for a winery and an antique row, two pleasant and calming activities, so I was glad for the choice. It didn't help, however, to get lost again but thankfully I had my Garmin to show me the rest of the way. After a second attempt to find the winery's entrance I was at last successful.

I took a deep breath, suddenly panicking that I'd either look like apathetic loser visiting a winery alone on Valentine's day weekend, or else a hopeless drunk. Happily when I entered I was able to come up with a good back story to tell the woman working there.

"Can I help you?" she asked with confidence and kindness.

"Um, yes, I'm looking for a wine for my BOYFRIEND and me to share for Valentine's day," I said quickly.

She showed me to their tasting counter and after sampling just a few I settled on the first one I tried and purchased the bottle.

I went back outside, happy that I had at last done something productive that day, took a few random pictures of the surrounding farmlands and got back in my car. Now where to...

I tried to punch in the name of the antique row I saw advertised, but I couldn't recall the exact name. Instead I decided I was hungry so I'd look for a place to eat. Not just any place. I was looking for those real down-home local eateries, where regulars hang out.

It didn't take long for me to find a place and as I walked in I was hoping to experience some deep reflections on life and living in someone else's shoes. Instead, as I quietly ate my open-faced turkey sandwich and fries covered in yellow gravy, I realized just how mediocre things are elsewhere. If there was a deep message to be found there it went no deeper than, "Nuthin special." And maybe there is some comfort in that.

Anyway, after another terrifying trip back on the highway I finally pulled up by my house, and was happy to be home. At least I had a bottle of wine to show for my adventure...

Long Winded

Happy Roman Catholic martyr Day everyone! Hope your Valentines were all extra ooey-gooey. Mine was as well...at least, yesterday was. I had quite the mini adventure on Saturday....

I woke up that morning feeling particualrly antzy. I've been feeling antzy all week, actually. Maybe even a month. I think it has something to do with the winter- every year around the same time I find I am more irritable and anxious and I think it's because I get a little stir-crazy. I mean, you can't go anywhere without having to face the cold and even if you get somewhere you have to eventually leave and brave the cold AGAIN. And besides, with the days being so short you can't even enjoy any outdoor activity for too long anyway. So when it looked like we might have a small break from the cold, I was gunnin' to do something.

I knew Joe had a business meeting with his game design team during the day and I was trying to plot out some sort of activity to busy myself with. I've been craving a road trip, so I looked up what was nearby that I could explore. Deciding against having a set plan, I would instead take York Road, the main road up here that leads to York, Penns., all the way as far as it would take me. I would just let the wind be my guide.

I should have known, however, that Fate was trying to give me signs that I should just turn back home and sit quietly with a book from the first traffic back-up. I sat on York Rd., behind rows of cars waiting to bypass an accident that had occured in the intersection. Trying to recover my spirit of adventure, I pressed on...only to be stopped again by the even LONGER back-up of traffic for the Cycle Show. Still, I wasn't ready to give up yet.

When I finally broek free of that I finally began to FEEL free. I wound through only semi-familiar neighborhoods, and even passed a winery. I was considering going back to the winery when the roads suddenly got very winding. It was also at this time I noticed the wind was pretty strong. It was difficult to get back my carefree attitude when I was constantly feelin g lie I was about to be blown into a deep ditch.

Finally I had to slow down anyway for construction being done on the road. Now, I hate moments like these, because I can never get a good sense what the workers want me to do. If I stop when they are telling me to go, I look incompetent- if I go when they want me to stop, I look like and asshole. Who needs that pressure?

Anyway, that's exactly what happened. I pulled forward when what they REALLY wanted me to do was stop (despite the fact the guy holding the sign was waving his hand--as in, Go, right?) After recieving some nasty looks I pressed on, finally desciding York ROad wasn't working for me anymore. I would pull off at the next passable road.

Little did I know I should really have just stayed my course...

Cat-Dog

Ok, this may be a stretch of me simply scraping the bottom of the Ideas barrel, but here we go...

Reasons my Dog is like a Cat.

(these are connections I have made based on my own pre-conceived notions about cats and do not necessarily reflect the ACTUAL behaviors of cats, since I don't own any, so cat-people: be fair)

1.) Sun-hunting- To be immediately followed by sun-lounging. Many a time I have entered a room or come home and spotted Georgia carefully placed with some part of her body touching a sunbeam. I have then left said room or have gotten distracted but when I'd come back I'd noticed she has shifted her body, continuously following the progress of the sun by wiggling her body to be constantly bathed in the warm sunlight.

2.) Batting, pawing or swiping- It could have something to do with whatever Frankenstein-ian mystery breeds she has in her, or perhaps it is simply behavior by physical design, but she is a dog that seems very comfortable using her front paws as hands. For a while now we have noticed that she will scrape her nails against our hands to get us to pet her. She will play by hopping on her back legs and springing forward, her arms (because thats what they look like) outstretched as if doing a "SOO big!"

3.) Picky eating- Granted I'm sure there are millions of dogs that have this problem, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say there exists a stereotype that some cats are particular about their food- and in that case, Georgia is similar. Lately we've been buying this food for her that has small chunks of chicken in it. She will very happily pick out the chicken and leave the rest (the healthy component, I'm sure) for much much MUCH later. She also will turn her snout up to her food if it is not gingerly doused in warm tap water. Yes, we are indulging her pickiness and yes, I am the one turning on the faucet.

4.) Climbing- On EVERYTHING. It has almost become a common thing; seeing the telltale paw prints on tables, chairs, beds, etc. Even when I'm usually writing and Georgia decides to stay up with me, if she wants attention she has no problem walking right on my laptop. Other times when Joe or I am stretched out on the couch, she has no qualms about running in from outside and walking right on top of us, as if we are in HER way. Unlike a cat, however, she is starting to feel less like a delicate puppy and more like a rambunctious dog.

Yeah, I may have punted this one tonight, but I'll do something a bit more thought-out tomorrow- my reviews on two restaurants I visited for Baltimore Restaurant week.

Tune in tomorrow.

U O Me

This is probably a given, for everyone I'm sure but especially for me, but I HATE being screwed out of money. I really do. Especially when it's more than a $5 and I am truly owed. But it also sucks to be screwed out of money that was basically found. Allow me to explain...

So over the weekend Joe and I had to go meet our landlord to hand in our rent checks. I was searching for our checkbooks in my dresser drawer when my hand pulled out a sealed envelope. I checked the sender and realized it was from my old doctor's office. I then noticed the tell-tale signs: the just barely visible watermarks, the "Pay to the Order of" stamped inside. This held a check! Woohoo, I thought for a second. But then I immediately did the math in my head and realized I hadn't dealt with this office in a few years, which meant the check was almost definitely expired.

Grumbling, but hanging onto some hope that for some reason it had an especially long and flexible expiration date, I opened the envelope and pulled out the document. It was indeed a check, citing it was a refund due to an overpayment, for $46! Sonofa...

I then quickly scanned the check and lo and behold.....expired 2008 (wa wa wa waaaaa). God damnit.

What the hell is that?? Getting some cash that I wasn't even counting on dangled in my face just to be yanked away. I was perturbed, to say the least.

Then later on, with my paltry dollars left, we walked to Trader Joe's to stock up on just some dinner essentials. Let me put a quick caveat here and just mention I have a slight obsession with Trader Joes, but that might have to wait for another post.

We pick up some basics including a box of clementines. Clementines, by the way, should just have little timers attached to them because those things are like little grenades waiting to go off and go bad. I swear it's like an episode of 24 just to finish the majority of them before they get moldy. I have only ever once seen the bottom of those damn wooden crates when the clementines were all eaten- it was a good day, a rare day...

Anyway after waiting in line for a good eternity the guy begins ringing me up. He mumbles something about overcharging people but I was too buys praying that I had enough money to hear. It wasn't until we got home and I had the chance to scan my receipt that I wondered if there was a mistake. It said that there were two grocery items I bought- something for $5.99 and something else for $6.99, but because Trader Joe's doesn't always label the receipt with what you specifically bought I'd have no way to prove the mistake. It just said, Grocery. Bollocks...

But the universe has a way of evening itself out. Maybe I'll find a dollar on the street or be the millionth customer in a store....Oh well, a cheap girl can always hope and dream...for a price.

Should See TV

Not that I ever really cared about the Superbowl, but it is just the latest thing that I have missed since embarking on this television-embargo. And even if I didn't give a crap about the game itself, I would've liked to have been in on all the watercooler chat about the commercials, the Black Eyed Peas punting their perfomance, and Christina Aguilera straight up bombing the lyrics to a song we are all taught as kindergarteners.

(Yeah I understand it must be nerve-wracking to be in front of millions of people, and that the song is generally considered difficult to sing not only correctly, but well. Still, she's a trained professional, you'd think she would've been sooo overly prepared that something like this wouldn't have happened. But I digress)

Since I'm less than half-way to my finishline, I thought I'd relate just a few of the things I've missed so far....

1.) Conan- Both on the Tonight Show AND his own new show (plus all the funny promos I was told about). I will admit I never bothered to stay up to watch his show way back when, but I always did enjoy his humor whenever I caught glimpses or reruns. So when everyone was breaking down into camps like the freaking Civil War, I was left standing in the middle, wondering what I was missing.

2.) The Chilean Miners- Granted, alot of the news about them was readily available via the radio and online news reports. Still, I can't help but think that this is one time that the imagination would be better replaced with seeing the actual footage of the men being rescued. Bummer, but maybe Hulu will offer that as a free video soon.

3.) The World Cup- I'm by no means a hardcore fan of ANY sport, but if I had to make a choice, I could sit in a bar, sip a beer, and watch a soccer game. I dunno, maybe it's because everything always seems to be moving (and that the soccer players aren't bad to look at), or maybe it's because when I was abroad it was what everyone was obsessed with and I wanted to try and fit in. Either way I developed a fondness for the game, and would get genuinely excited when the matches would be country vs. country, so when I realized I'd be missing it during this boob-tube hiatus...damnit. And then the fact that it won't happen again for another four years...goddammnit.

4.) The New Season of....- It's always a bit torturous to go home and visit my fam and every television in the house is tuned to a show I want to watch. And when it's a whole new season of shows like American Pickers or Real Housewives of New York or Project Runway, it really sticks in my craw. Although I will say this draught has helped clear the crappy-television clutter from my brain, making me realize when I do watch television again which shows I'd keep and which I'll toss.

There's a bunch more I'm sure, and maybe I'll make this a monthly thing where I recap some television-related events I've missed (or don't). But seeing as it's getting late, I better hit the ol' sack.

Goodnite television viewers.

Initial Disagreement

What's the deal with bands using initials when their band name don't merit them? Allow me to explain...

I was at work today listing to the radio station through my headphones, as always, when something caught my attention. Now I am still in the process of being able to half listen while concentrating on whatever it is I'm doing (or, at least whatever I'm supposed to be doing...what do I do again? Oh well, nevermind...) but something stuck out enough for me to mentally grab it and mull it over.

There's a contest going on right now that lets you win passes to the Linkin Park concert, but instead of saying "Linkin Park"again, they just said "LP".

Seriously? The band's entire name is only three syllables. Are we so lazy now that saying that many syllables is a burden?

Maybe the script-writer or whatever was thinking that they didn't want the announcer to say "Linkin Park" over and over again, which I can understand. But what's the deal with Avenged Sevenfold calling themselves A7S? I swear the first time I heard that I thought, who's that? Is that a new band? It confused me for a while, I won't lie, but when I found out it was the same lame band, I just got pissed. If they want to have a "7" in their name, why don't they just put it there in the first place?? Call yourselves Avenged 7 Fold or shorten it to ASF or even just AS since I'm pretty sure they use one word for Sevenfold.

At least with other bands, I can understand why they'd utilize initials. It's alot easier to put BTO on a t-shirt instead of Bachman Turner Overdrive and they save a bundle on marquee letters by putting ELO instead of Electric Light Orchestra.

I know I'm sounding like Andy Rooney (a.k.a. an old fart, fuddy-duddy, curmudgeon or anything else that would describe a 89 year old man named Mortimer), but I really just don't see the point to use initials for something so brief. And speaking of brief, you like the under 1,000 word post? I'm getting better (and see? Sometimes it pays when I have absolutely nothing else to talk about!) lol.

Fear not, I'm sure I'll get screwed by something this weekend. Tune in Monday to find out what.

Have a great weekend everybody!

The Shocker

You ever shock yourself? No, I don't mean by qualifying for both the Olympics AND Mensa at the same time...and not the little b.s. static electricity kind. I mean the coursing-through-your-veins-like-Frankenstein's-monster kind of shock.

Ok, it wasn't all that severe, but it was definitely a stronger sensation than touching my computer after walking on carpet.

I was recovering from my weekend festivities last last Sunday by just taking it easy and doing some household chores. But because I'm an addict to entertainment (not just television, I've found out) I need to have something playing, be it radio or Internet. And it is because of this that I love this little laptop of mine...well, most of the time.

It's so small it's really a great travelling computer. However, the only thing that sucks is that the cable to the battery outlet has gotten loose over time. It's now super-sensitive, and if the cable is even REMOTELY unplugged, I start to rely on the battery for power, even when the whole thing is PLUGGED into the outlet.

And as easy as the cord to the battery slips out, the more difficult the cord to the outlet is to unplug. I was shifting my actions from the living room to the kitchen, and so I went to unplug the cord into the power strip outlet. I tried at first to simply grip the plastic part of the cord, but when that proved difficult I used my finger to push it out the rest of the way...

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

I felt a strong charge zip right through my thumb and forefinger so quickly I took me a few seconds to actually shout the word, "Ow!" It literally felt like my hand had been shaken ferociously for a good few seconds and as I looked down my two fingers were red, but that was all the evidence I saw.

I must admit I was quite shy about touching that cord again...at least for a few minutes. But I'm not a totally dumb lab rat. The next time I will remember to use my hand as just an extractor...not a freaking conductor.