Pizza, Pizza

I hate to be a snob or ridiculous, but really, the pizza here in Baltimore is a crying shame.

I know that New York gets all the credit for having awesome pizza, but New Jersey is right there too (both literally and standard-wise). The sauce is always sweet and savory, the cheese is gooey, and the crust is perfectly chewy AND crispy. I took the fact that we had more great pizzerias than bad for granted, until I moved here.

I recall so distinctly sitting around in my college dorm or around a common area, and someone mentioning a craving for pizza.

"Hey, I know! How about Papa John's?" What? A chain?!! Blasphemy!

I was perplexed since really, my family and I never ordered from a pizza chain. You always order your pizza from a place with a stereotypical Italian name, like Michael Angelo's or Little Luigi's.

I tried to be open minded and not a pain, so I'd go along with the group- and was horribly disappointed; thick plastic-y cheese smothered over salty sauce on top of flavorless cardboard. I hoped that my new found friends were merely going along with what was easily available. Yet sure enough, another week or so would pass and suddenly I'd see someone pull out that damn Papa John's menu.

Yet, Baltimore is something of a known city, with plenty of great meals available. I was determined to find my home pizza away from home pizza. And happily, I have. In no particular order, I give you my Pizza Picks for the Towson/Baltimore area.

1.) Pasta Mista's Margarita Thin Crust- Perhaps it is because they place really fresh Roma tomatoes on top. Perhaps it is because it tastes amazing even at below room temperature. And perhaps it is because I had it just last night. But Pasta Mista's pizzas are fantastic. I've tried a few of their different slices, but my go-to favorite is the Margarita thin crust. You never actually feel like you are eating something "bad" for you, because the ingredients appear so simple and fresh- great crust, a savory sauce, fresh sliced sweet tomatoes, tangy basil, and sumptuous fresh mozzarella slices.

2.) Maria's- Joe and I discovered this gem over a year ago, primarily because of the price. On Sunday and Monday their large and X-large pizzas are half-off (making an end of weekend/weekday meal not only a treat but extremely affordably). They are a tad greasier than I'd like, but the flavor is still one of the best I've had. The sauce is pretty killer and the crust has a great balance of chew and crunch.

3.) Strappazza- Fairly certain they are a chain, which does detract some level of appreciation, but they do have fantastic pizza. In fact, it's one of the closest New Jersey-style pizza experiences I've had outside of the Garden State. The cheese and sauce appear well combined, rather than one sitting on top of the other.

Have your say: Out of towners- let's hear where you get your pizza from or in fact any food you miss from your hometown. Local to Baltimore? Let me know if you agree/disagree or have any suggestions as to where I can go to get my pizza fix.

Water Road Warrior

Well, I'm back after yet another adventure in New Jersey. I went up to finally give my sister and brother their birthday/Christmas presents- tickets to see "Cinematic Titanic", the live-action version of the now defunct television show, "Mystery Science Theater 3000".

Joe had taken me two years ago for New Years and we had a ball. And since my sister and brother were such fans of the TV show too I looked up when they would be touring in New Jersey and purchased tickets.

The drive up to New Jersey in general wasn't bad, if not just a tad long. Joe and I arrived at around 10:00 p.m. and pretty much crashed right away.

The next day had miserable weather: rain, clouds, and cold wind. The theater we were going to was up in Princeton and though my dad insisted it was less than 45 minutes away, I was still anxious to get on the road. I probably shouldn't have been so quick to start driving.

We drove straight into downpour after downpour of rain. The wind batted my car around a bit and the splashes on my windshield made seeing a real challenge. We were armed with my Garmin but as we neared the theater we found ourselves confused. No signs that we could see indicated what direction the theater was in, and worse, we couldn't find the parking lot.

We drove around in a circle a few times till finally I drove right into the first semi-safe parking lot I could find. I even asked a couple in that same lot getting out of their cars if this was the right place to park.

"I dunno, " the woman said, "but I'm parking here anyway." That was good enough for me.

We parked thinking the theater was right around the corner; after all, that's what the Garmin had us believe. It wasn't until I hollered at two guys smoking outside a cathedral-like building where the McCarter theater was that we realized it was about 4 or 5 blocks away. So with time running out and the rain pouring directly on our heads, we dashed in the direction of the theater and, thankfully, made it on time.

The show was great, despite our discomfort in our seats due to cold, wetness, and hunger. Still, I was relieved to see how grateful and delighted my sister and brother were for their present.

When we got back on the road to get home the rain had stopped for the most part. We were instead treated to a fantastic lighting show right in front of us.

Now, I'm a nervous driver, anyway, but I'm even more so in a place I've never been before, and downright neurotic when it's nighttime and rain keeps getting in the way of my seeing. It must have been because of that that I failed to see the giant flood that took over a huge portion of the road. The oncoming traffic must not have expected it either, as I was about hit it another car did, and splashed a huge wave onto my car. A millisecond later, I hit it and soaked my own car. It happened so quickly and blinded me so completely that it took me several minutes to calm my nerves down.

I slowly pulled out of it and continued on my way. Happily there were no other car-incidences. But even still, I think I'll wait to visit Jersey again until after April's showers.

Homegrown Ass

Being from New Jersey I am pretty much used to common wise-cracks...about the beaches being polluted, about the people being fake and annoying, about the overall stench that hovers over the landscape (not completely true, by the way).

I have developed a pretty tough skin when it comes to the slams and even manage to politely nod and smile, taking comfort in the fact that people who say those things in earnest merely display they don't know squat about my home state.

So it was kinda surprising when I moved to Maryland and found myself on the other side of the table- being the one poking fun at places in Maryland and making myself look like the ignoramus.

On one specific instance I was sitting in a class my sophomore year of college. It was the beginning of the semester and I was doing what I always did the first day of class- finding an ally and maybe, a friend. There was a girl right behind me and we were just shooting the breeze when she mentioned she was a from a place called Dundalk.

Now, I hadn't been in the state that long, yet I had already heard "things" about Dundalk from recently acquired Marylander friends- about the landscape, people, and smell. They were stereotypes, sure, but I was used to people joking about the New Jersey ones, so I figured this girl was probably aware of her town's.

"Dundalk, huh? I've heard things about that place..." I said jovially.

"Like what.." she asked.

"Well, you know...that it's a bit rough..", I replied smiling...but she wasn't. And she continued to not do so for the rest of the semester.

Though I came off as a stuck-up snobby bitch and lost the opportunity for a friendship and alliance that would've probably lasted just the duration of the class, I did learn a few lessons- never knock someone's hometown, unless it was yours too, and never assume anything you don't know anything about.

Years later, and after working in Dundalk for a year, I can, however, attest to the smell...

Writers on the Storm

Jeez, I think I just about jumped out of my skin just now. I had just gotten in the shower when I noticed some flashes of light outside my bathroom window. I had heard a storm was coming but had no idea when. Of course it figures it would come on just as I'm stepping into the shower. Plus, bonus fun- Joe left for rehearsal so I'd be there alone scrambling to keep the dog (and myself) calm while fumbling for the fuse box in a towel if the power went out. Thankfully, I managed to get in and out before such a thing happened.

Then I came downstairs to see if Georgia needed to run out really quick, since the storm didn't seem too threatening just yet. All of a sudden, we both see a bright snap of light followed immediately by the loudest crack of thunder. Both me and the dog took a giant jump back, looking at each other. Georgia barked back at the thunder and I tried to keep the towel on my head from slipping while calming her down.

Truthfully, I do love storms, yet I am also somewhat afraid. I remember as a kid whenever one would come on I would always listen but as soon as it got a few decibels too high for me, I'd run right into my parents room. I realize even now as an adult I tend towards the same behaviors. Back at our old apartment we had a balcony that usually had a pretty good view of any storms that were approaching. One day as I was driving home I looked up and noticed the dark clouds making their way overhead. It had been an oddly warm day for a week of mostly chilly days, so I knew it was going to be a doozie. I decided to drop my stuff inside and grabbed one of our lawn chairs that we used as outdoor furniture and settled in for a good show. It was pretty uneventful at first, just a flash here and rumble there. Suddenly, with little warning, the flashes got brighter and the cracks got louder. Before I knew it I was surrounded by the drama of Mother Nature. I tried to keep my fears down, telling myself it was a bit unlikely I'd be struck or anything bad would happen to me sitting out there. But eventually, as the wind picked up and the rain began whipping around me, I figured I'd see all the show I was going to. Up close and personal, anyway.

I'm the same way with the ocean. I love going to the beach, even occasionally dipping my toes in. But I very very rarely actually go in. Probably because I've been tumbled and toppled by the ocean enough times to know it can be scary and intimidating. You so easily lose what little control you already have. I recall another time playing in the ocean with my siblings and cousins. They began riding the waves with their bodies into the beach. Wanting to be included, and not wanting to appear like a wuss, I joined them. It was going fine until I paused to catch my foot beneath a wave and then BAM! A wave came from no where and swallowed me up for a good 2 seconds. I remember that burning feeling as salt water rushed into my mouth and scalded my nose and throat, leaving me to wheeze and cough for the next 20 mins. To this day, I will only venture into the water if it's flat as a lake and with a gentle current. And since that rarely is the case on the Jersey Shore, I'm usually content for the sporadic ocean spray or dipped toes.

Like I said, I think it's the absolute loss of control that is both fascinating and terrifying about nature. You can only do so much to prepare but in the end the only certainty is the uncertainty...maybe that's why the meteorologists call them "predictions" as opposed to "facts". Many of them dodge the bullet when people get pissed off at their incorrect reports. They must think, "I know I said that we would have sun, but we got rain instead. What do you want from me, it's not like the weather and I are in cahoots."

Oh well, anyway, judging by Georgia's sleeping on the couch, I'm guessing the storm is passing. Good thing too. I got some ice cream waiting for me. Goodnight for now beloved readers!

Tat too?

God, I am freaking starving right now. I've been trying to be healthier by packing a banana and a small package of carrots for lunch, but really it's not cutting it. I find myself downing a huge cup of coffee just to stifle the pangs of hunger. It was especially interesting today when a couple of coworkers and I went for a walk outside in the brisk 87 degrees (actually it really didn't feel too hot, but for the sake of this rant let's just say it was), and I found myself wanting to keel over and vomit a little bit...nice huh? Yeah yeah I know, I should stop being an idiot and actually pack a freaking lunch, but I'm so lazy in the morning (and usually rushing around anyway cuz I'm never organized) I don't have the time to make anything. I mean come on, what am I, a freaking magician? Who has time to swipe a slab of peanut butter on two pieces of bread! And if that weren't enough, I'd also require a baggy of pretzels to accompany my sandwich and fruit...and of course, a cookie or two. So really when you factor all that in, I'm better off grabbing the damn banana and suffering the pain of my stomach trying to digest itself.

But anyway.

I don't think I talked enough about my trip home yet, which was both pretty relaxing and uneventful, yet at the same time had moments of revelation. Probably the biggest is the fact that my cousin, Beck, is engaged. Yeah, I'd say that would fall under the category of "Big News", so again, congrats to Beck and Anth!

But another surprising event happened, seamlessly enough, while in the car with my family. Now I should preface this by saying, I really hate, HATE, being one of those people who says they're going to do something but then rarely actually does it. Yes, along with my self-proclaimed laziness, cheapness, and pathetic addiction to television-watching, my procrastination (or probably more aptly, my never-actually-doing-it-tion) is one of my crappiest attributes. Let's be honest, we all do it sometimes but we all have at least one friend who does it ALL the time...and if you don't know of the person, it's probably you.

Anyway, ever since last year's birthday I've been seriously considering getting a tattoo. I regret not getting one at the same time my girlfriends all went together to get theirs, but I couldn't think of anything that permanent or life-altering at the time. Now that I think I have a reason for one, I think I'm ready to make (maybe) the biggest mistake of my life (of course, it could be a tie to the time back in 8th grade when I insisted on chopping off my hair only to end up looking like a mix between Pat Benatar and a brunette Herbie the Elf from the Rudolph the Reindeer clay-mation special).

So after some hemming and hawing, and some suggestions from tattoo-aficionados, I think I settled on the ideal representation for me...a single feather quill. Not only to represent my attempt at written adventures, but also because it symbolizes my lack of direction and how I seem to move along however the wind pushes me. Once I figured that out, the next big issue was where to put it. I kept thinking someplace easily hidden, like low on my hip or back, but for some reason I always felt I should put it on my shoulder. I even considered the back of my neck, but then I worried that by the time I was 80 I'd have to explain why granny's got a wilted string-bean looking thing on her. I was pretty undecided, so I really felt like I had no choice but wait until I figured it out.

Back in the car, jumbling around the back seat with my sister and mom, while my brother, Drew, and my dad were up front, we got on the subject of tattoos somehow. Now, had I gone through with it I fully intended to keep it from my parents as long as possible...at least until the holidays rolled around, being the season of forgiveness. When I couldn't contain it any longer, I said casually, "I was thinking about getting a tattoo." I waited for the bomb to explode.

"What were you thinking about getting?" my mother said.

Ok, that was a surprising response. When I told them a feather quill, my sister retorted with a less than encouraging reply. A few brief seconds passed before my mother responded.

"Oh I could see that. That would be pretty."

What? She basically said she wouldn't hate me for doing it, and she actually thought it sounded pretty? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't the original thought behind tattoos to show you are rebelling from the norm? How am I supposed to be considered a rebel now, when my mother thinks my tattoo would be "darling"?

Actually, it made me more relieved. I always sought my parents approval with everything I did (and still do). So now that they seem to be ok with, it's almost like I have to do it now.

But who knows...maybe I'll wait till next year....

Fix Visits

Ok, this time i REALLY mean it. It's gonna be a short-er one. I am totally exhausted, and really what I want to write about isn't all that funny (like how I'm giving you the hard sell?) so bear with me, and we should all come out of this alive.

I don't know why really I am so tired. I pretty much had a whole day that consisted of sitting. Sitting at my desk for 8 hours and then sitting in my car driving for 3. God, what level of lazy are you when SITTING is exhausting.

Or maybe it's just the fact that I can loosen up a little finally. I took off a few days of work to come back up to the Jerz and visit with family, hit the beach, eat some clams, and have an all-around mini-vaca. It's also the first time I'm going to be away from Georgia, and while I already miss my little butter-bean, it's nice not to have to sleep with one ear open waiting for the sound of whining and dashing out to door to make sure she doesn't pee on the carpet again. Plus my friend Lauren KICKS ASS (I mean she did already before anyway, but now she kicks even MORE ass) because she can watch the puppy while Joe has a show and a filming gig. So Lauren, if you are reading this, you are my hetero-life partner.

But anyway, like I said, I'm tired because I worked the whole day, came home for about an hour, went back out to get us dinner, packed, and then headed back on the road. Now, I can understand why sitting at a computer all day can be exhausting: your back, your eyes, your hands all have to be in-sync and focused. When you first start driving, you don't think you would ever get sick of it, and it could never be tiring. But then again, I guess it's the same thing- all parts have to be at attention for an extended period of time.

Plus, the trip home can be a tedious one. Aside from the occasional town, it's pretty much just a tree-lined highway. But I made a promise to my mom that I would come up. And since it's also my cousin's grad party, I really had a reason to escape the stagnant heat of Baltimore.

Speaking of mothers, I think mine has a addiction- to her kids. You ever notice how parents, even grandparents sometimes, treat their children like they are little poppers or something? My mother will call me at the oddest times, always asking when I'm going to come around again. I have to tell her that I'll try, but I know what happens. She's thrilled to see me, gets all excited and relieved. And then soon enough, the high wears off, and I know it's time to hit the road again. She'll wait a few days, and then the calls for the next visit happen. I feel like a damn drug-dealer. I swear it's a terrible cycle, I should really check her in somewhere...do they have a department for that at Betty Ford?

Anyway, short story even shorter, I made it home in one piece but unfortunately it looks like I'm getting kicked to the couch. I forget that here I am in the land of the TV-Watchers. My sister Hillary (SHOUT-OUT) got here earlier and was already asleep in the one bed, while the only other spare was in my brother's room (who can't sleep without a tv being on).

But I think it'll be alright. I got a blanket, some water, and a trashy romance novel to keep me company. And I also have you, my little literates. On that note, I will bid you good night.

A Ride Down Memory Lane

A few months ago Joe and I headed out on an adventure: our mission- to uncover some remains of old abandoned amusement parks for him to take pictures of. Despite the soggy and muddy conditions it was still really interesting to discover these little pieces of lost history. We even found a lake community with all these unique and beautiful homes and restaurants, it was like a mini-vacation: stepping into someone else's world.


We never found anything useful for his pictures, but it piqued my interest in this kind of amusement park-archaeology. Or at the very least I began thinking about parks from my own youth.



As it happened I was bored at work (typical) and thought I'd check out WeirdNJ for old times sakes. I stumbled upon an article about a place I haven't thought about in YEARS: Action Park.

And right above the article they included the old 80s rainbow-colored sign..

I vaguely remember seeing the ads on TV but I could never forget that bright logo. Whenever we used to take small day trips I remember seeing the signs posted advertising both water and regular thrill rides. We never went, and after reading about how people were lucky to walk away with enough skin to cover their bodies, let alone their lives (and who lovingly nicknamed it "Traction Park" or "Accident Park") it was probably a good thing.

What I do remember is a place called "The Land of Make Believe," but then again, I don't so much remember specifics too much. I remember the sign, and a good-sized train that you could hop on that would take you around the park, and some characters that looked like the owner stopped by a costume shop and just asked for some generic animal outfits. There was a pirate ship thing too I think, that was obviously only active in the summer months, and was surrounded by a wide wading pool with mushroom fountains all over the place. I may not be able to pin down exact trips but those few times still somehow haunt the recesses or my memories.

I've been here in Maryland for a few years, and while I slowly start to adopt it as my home, there are still ways I keep my connection to New Jersey. It may not seem like a huge geographic change, yet the fact that I get to be part of a small section of people who actually remember these places keeps the Jersey in me alive.

I wonder what other local amusement parks people recall from their youths...guess that's gonna be for me to find out...

Anyway, time for bed. Goodnight!