Who Wore It Best? ... and other, far more important, things

The past week has been a whirlwind of activity.  Sadly, if you're here for an extensive(ish) write-up of something new to do in the city because you just moved here, I cannot do much for you beyond send you here.  You can thank me for the intro to the Fishbowl later.

While yesterday may have been Halloween, I spent it inside, working, and marathoning Freaks and Geeks on Netflix.  I celebrated Halloween (and my birthday!) last weekend, never once allowing myself the opportunity to sleep in.  That's for the youngins, right?  I spent Friday night setting up for and later attending (and judging phenomenal costumes) the Baltimore Bike Party's after-party (and after the party?  The hotel lobby) at Union Craft Brewery on Clipper Mill.

Saturday I went for another hike, this time to Loch Raven, with two friends and the dog.  Loch Raven was phenomenal, incredibly scenic, and the perfect fall hike to view the foliage before it all got ravaged off branches when Sandy came to town.  Little guy romped off his leash the entire five or six (purely a guesstimate here, as none of Loch Raven's trails are blazed or anything) mile hike, with only one near-submersion into the lake.  Success!

That night was another Halloween party, but at a friend's house in York, PA.  Sunday morning was the market (of course) and my birthday shindig where my wonderful friend provided me with gluten-free belgian waffle sundaes and great people came up/down/over/preposition for good times.

Then it was Hurricane time.  Sunday night, I hunkered down with the dog, Netflix, two random gallons of water, my parent's pilfered camping lantern, a constantly refreshing twitter feed, and every item in my kitchen that I could possibly remember existed, being thrown into a curry dish.  Mmmm... curried can opener.

This unnecessarily lengthy intro was to set the stage for what occurred.  After a busy, tiring weekend, Sandy came in and created the hype of Frankenstorm.  Baltimore shut down.  My office was closed (telecommuting!), public transit stopped running, my corner store pulled down its metal entry way blocking thing, ensuring that my wine stash was my wine stash, and there would be absolutely NO supplementing it.  Sandy was Serious.

Do you know what happens to people who spend entire days indoors, save for walking a dog in hurricane?  People who neurotically check their windows for leaks, with good reason, neurotically change the sopping towels on their windows, and engineer umbrellas to block the leaking rain from splashing onto you/your furniture/your electronics?  They go stir-crazy.  I worked, yes, but I also made scones.  And roasted my first chicken (with pomegrante seeds!  and help!  because nice people help you roast chickens in hurricanes!).  I also.... I also considered making a "Who Wore It Best?" for Bubba and I.

Yes.

I became that crazy woman who lives alone and has a creepy relationship with her pet.
That being said, you know you're curious.
"Who wore what best, MV?" you're asking.  "Why are you being so cryptic, MV?" you ask.  "No, I really don't care, MV.  Please stop," you implore.
Excellent questions.

I bring you two images:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Sound off in the comments on who makes a better hotdog, and don't let the presence of relish and extra toppings sway you one way or the other! I tried to make you folks a handy poll, but it kept linking to what I think is the equivalent of a Polish Etsy.

Finally, and arguably far more important than the fact that my dog and I both wore hot dog costumes this October, dear, amazing, witty and informative Baltimore Chop apparently nominated me for two Mobbies, or Maryland's Outstanding Blogs.  I am embarrassed because I don't do well with compliments flattered, and torn between urging you to vote daily for me or daily for the Chop.  (Lucky you!  You can vote for both!)  I really am so grateful for how much everyone in Baltimore has made me feel so very welcome in the past year, even the twitter and blogospheres.  For those of you who know me, I'm constantly talking up the Chop and how he helped me get acquainted to this city when I first relocated, and even more so, how he keeps me up to date on wonderful things each day.  Good 'ol buddy Clube can attest to this.

This really serves as a great incentive for me to keep better tabs on this little blog, and not go so long between updates.  I was so much better at being a consistent blogger when I was in AmeriCorps, so hopefully now I'll get myself back into the swing of things.  I'm still in shock that I'm up there with the likes of the Chop, City that Breeds, Charm City Cook, Pigtown Designs, the Fishbowl, etc etc.  Amazed, and again, flattered.  So, go!  Vote!

Oregon Ridge

To say I am not an athletic person would be a gross understatement.  I learned early on that sports were only fun if you had a chance of winning, and as a person with zero athletic prowess, sports were miserable for me.  I would sit on the sidelines at little league soccer games, praying my coach wouldn't put me in, so that I could continue to sit on the sidelines and eat orange slices.  Why the other kids even wanted to leave the oranges was always beyond me.  There are, however, physical pastimes I will partake in A) for my health and B) because I do enjoy them.  These include occasionally going to yoga, walking home for work/the farmer's market, and hiking.  If I can force myself to walk home from work at least three times during the week, I give myself a large pat on the back and then cook myself some bacon.

Having lived in the Blue Ridge, I have high hiking standards.  I expect panoramic views of valleys with only a farmhouse or a silo.  I expect at least a four mile hike up that includes some semblance of rock climbing.  It's almost as though, because I don't really exercise at all, that I want to push myself more when I hike.  When I moved to Baltimore, I assumed hiking was off my list of physical pastimes, and I would have to start counting taking the stairs up to my apartment as exercise (I definitely do this in the winter).

Today is a beautiful day.  It's about 73 degrees outsides, there are scattered clouds, and I couldn't spend it indoors.  At least not all of it.  After the market, I put some snacks and water in my daypack, and Bubba and I headed north on 83 to Oregon Ridge Park. I have no idea where we hiked or what trails we took.  I took one glimpse at the map that said the longest hike was 1.6 miles, and immediately decided we'd just wing it instead and get some more distance in.  This is a decision that was much better for me and far worse for a dog with tiny, stubby little legs.

Not pictured: my shooing the dog away from eating dirt.

Oregon Ridge was busy today, presumably on account of it being a perfect Sunday.  We ran into many a couple, family or solo hiker on the trails.  There were people on the beach at the lake, a million folks having picnics by the stage, and many dogs to intimidate Bubba through the entire place.  It was lovely, though.  The two overlooks we came across weren't quite as majestic as the ones in the Blue Ridge, but that is to be expected.  They were lovely in their own right.

True majesty is a basset hound.

These trails are not demanding.  I saw plenty of children on them, not remotely struggling.  Bubba maneuvered the trails fine - he just struggled with the distance I forced upon him.  Lesson of the day: when I hike without a dog, I move twice as fast.  We were still able to stop on the old ski slope and enjoy some sunshine, snacks and a book.

An eerily empty lake: the telltale sign that it's no longer summer. 

So if you're new to Bmore and itching for some nature beyond the concrete jungle, head north on 83 to Oregon Ridge.  Be sure to bring a picnic to enjoy by the lake, and a swimsuit, if it's that kind of weather.

The Cone Collection

I've professed my love for art in the past. This afternoon, after picking up my weekly produce and happiness from the market and taking the dog to a park, I figured I'd go see the new exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art.  I love the BMA and was excited to see the Baker Artist Awards.  As expected, there were wonderful exhibits from local artists which once again verified my belief that Baltimore artists are equally as talented, if not more so, than artists in larger cities.  Today I am not here to regale you with tales of the wonders of the BMA, though.  The BMA is undergoing some serious renovations and will be reopening their Contemporary Wing in November, at which point I'll scope it out and bore you with details then.

Source: http://www.destination360.com/

Today, I am here to tell you about the Cone Collection at the BMA.  Sometimes a girl just needs to revel in Matisse, Picasso, Cezanne, Van Gogh and Rodin, and the Cone Collection allows me to do just that.  So, many thanks to the wealthy Cone sisters who decided that Baltimore should hold onto their collection so that "the spirit of appreciation for modern art in Baltimore became improved."  Because the BMA is free, it allows people like myself to go in multiple times a month for the sole purpose of staring at late 19th Century sculpture on a whim, and for that I am incredibly grateful.  

Please be sure to support the BMA, or any art institute, and not just for my own selfish motives.  The arts are one of the main reasons Baltimore is such a great place to live, and keeping the arts affordable/free means keeping it accessible to everyone.

Free Seafood

Every week at the Farmer’s Market, the Seafood Man stands proudly with his coolers full of the week’s catch, as he should, knowing fully well that he and the Mushroom Ladies have the hottest, priciest commodities at the market.  I stare at him longingly as I fork over $1 for a pound of kale and another $1 for two eggplants from other, more affordable vendors.  This is my price range at the market.  Sometimes I’ll splurge on berries or peaches, but generally I have a $3-per-item limit for myself, and seafood just doesn’t fit into my budget.  It kills me, a little bit, to pass his freshly caught crabs or see my friends buy tilapia for fish tacos later in the week, but I’ve prioritized an omelet and kettle korn over fish, yet again.

He always has a trivia question, which, if answered properly without the aid of a smartphone, generally wins one a lobster tail.  I glance at the question every week, hoping that one Sunday, I’ll just instinctively know the answer.  It’ll just come to me because, that week, I’d be destined to have lobster tail for dinner.

I go to this market every. Sunday.  Never have I guessed the question properly.  Most weeks I don’t even bother, while others I’ll stand in front of his table for a good five minutes and wrack my brain for memories of Seinfeld episodes or basic American History facts.  Perhaps my losing streak is a sign of why my trivia team did so poorly in its one week of existence.  

And then last Sunday, everything changed.  I was forcing my kale into my resuable bag, when I overheard, “Wait, so what’s the answer?”  

I looked up at the board before I looked up at the inquisitive soul.

“No, l know this one!  ...may I?”

I’m not aware of what I’m saying, my body’s just going with it.  My mind is hours ahead of me, already submerging my free lobster tail in large saucers of butter with a large glass of pinot grigio in the other hand.  What a lovely Sunday evening was in store.

The Seafood Man signals for me to answer, gesturing that he’s given me the floor, the opportunity to prove myself worthy of his trivia.  My Venezuelan roots have prepared me for this moment.  After 24 years, I was going to milk my heritage for a free lobster tail, and I internally acknowledged that it was some perverse form of affirmative action that I fully supported.

“Angel Falls.  The world’s highest waterfall is Angel Falls and it’s in Canima - the rainforest in Venezuela!”  I sputter it out quickly, as though if I don’t, I’ll forget that I’ve been to this massive waterfall.   He nods, but not enthusiastically.  He looks amused, but not in a Bob Barker “Let’s look at what you’ve just won!” kind of way.

I look back at the whiteboard where the question was scrawled hours before.

“What is the world’s highest waterfall and what country is it in?  Guess correctly and win a free … NOTHING.”

My heart sinks.

Affirmative action is a lie.

I will be eating kettle korn for dinner, if I can ration it to last until 6pm.

I won’t be buying that bottle of pinot grigio.  

I’ll submerge my sorrows in saucers of butter.

I’ll never win that lobster tail.

“It was too easy this week,”  Seafood Man lets me down gently.  “Everyone was getting it right and we ran out.”

I was shamed.  I quietly walked away, my head low, to buy four bell peppers for $1 - left to wonder what it would be like to one day be able to leave the Seafood Man with my head high, and a plastic bag full of aquatic goodness.

Until next week, I suppose.

Patterson Park

The weather in Baltimore is finally returning to normal.  I no longer have to run my AC 24/7 to prevent my apartment from turning into a crock-pot and coming home to a slow-roasted dog.  This also allows me to walk the dog for more than one block before he goes on strike and retires to his vestibule of refreshment, as if my even considering to take him out was the world's rudest, most thoughtless inconvenience.

No, now that the weather has come down into the comfortable, low-humidity 80's, I can once again join the ranks of dog owners who walk their dogs further than a block.  In an effort to see more of the city, I often chauffer the dog around to various parks that are beyond reasonable/safe walking distances.  My preferred park is Patterson Park, for so many reasons.

Photo from: http://baltimore.shownbyphotos.com/

A) Bubba's best friend Pete lives one block from the park.  (Best Friend: noun.  Dog who is owned by my close friend.  Dog friendship determined by convenience and proximity to park.  Impromptu, potentially racy, displays of affection not taken into consideration when determining best friendship.)
B) The Pagoda.
C) The pond.
D) That creepy ice cream truck that plays what sounds like the song from Katamari, but more sinister. Please don't ask me how I am even aware of Katamari's existence.
E) The sheer expanse of space.
F) The proximity to Creative Alliance (another post for another day).

When you spend your days in a cubicle, vying for the slivers of sunlight that make their way through venetian blinds and open office doors, sometimes a fire escape just doesn't cut it for outdoor space come 5pm.  Walking through Patterson Park with Bubba and sitting under a tree for a bit with a good book does wonders for mental refreshment.  For amusement, I could maybe try to make it to one of their free events, or just allow myself the simple pleasure of watching Bubba get truly confused by the ducks.  The pagoda is lovely, the pond is always surrounded by small children adorably throwing bread at overweight ducks, and the greenness of it all is just so welcome to me.

If you're new to Bmore and looking for a great place to bike around, go for a run, walk your dog, or just simply have a picnic or get a sketchy ice cream cone, head over to Patterson Park.

Artscape

There are few things I support more than the plight of the artist.  I think art, in all of its forms, is a crucial component of a civilized society, and I regularly make a point of exposing myself to it in Baltimore.  (Look for posts on museums, theaters, local venues and bands, etc on another yet-to-be-determined date)

I don't know if you know this, but Artscape is kind of a big deal.  Back in 2009, I made the drive up from DC suburbia with some friends because I desperately wanted to see Cake.  I knew nothing about Baltimore, I knew nothing about Artscape, I just knew I wanted to see Cake.  We were an odd group, and while seeing Cake was fantastic and I remember thinking Baltimore was quirkier than I had given it props for in the past, what I most recall from that day were high temperatures and short tempers.  When house hunting with my sister last September, two weeks before I was to start my job, I remember walking down Charles Street and it all hitting me like I'd just walked into a wall - I'd been here before.  I'd seen this hideous statue before, I'd seen this theater.  Fate would have it that I'd move into this area, and I would come to love it.

I love Club Charles, I love that heinous statue, I love the sound of Amtrak as I go to bed, I love Brewer's Art, I love Single Carrot, I love everything that made me reconsider Baltimore three years ago.

But this is not about my love for midtown and Station North.  No.  This is about Artscape.

Artscape is massive.  As their website brags, "3 Days, 350,000 people."  It's the largest free arts festival in the United States.  This is fantastic.  No, honestly, it is.  One of the things I love so much about Baltimore is how well it treats its artists.  We give them nice spaces like this (and this!) at affordable(ish) prices, and sometimes they even let us come over and see what they're up to.  Artscape allows local artists the opportunity to showcase their work to a massive audience, whereas otherwise they may not have gotten so much publicity.  This is all fantastic - honestly.  As someone who loves and appreciates both art and artists, I think Artscape is commendable and I am personally looking forward to attending it.

Now, here is my beef.


I live in the surrounding regions of where Artscape is held.  I have plans Saturday night in the 'burbs.  (I can't miss Wine Club AGAIN!  Who will do the dramatic readings of the descriptions on the bottle??)   Between Artscape, my dog, parking, street closures, water main breaks downtown, and Netflix filming "House of Cards" in the city this week, I'm pretty much trapped.  Those 350,000 Artscape attendees?  They'll be in my neighborhood.  They'll be drunk on my front stoop at godforsaken hours of the morning.  They'll be stealing my prime parking spaces.  They'll be wanting to talk to me about my dog when I just want him to take a dump and keep moving.  They'll move into my bars (stay away from Dionysus!) and clog my bus. 


This weekend, as a result, is going to take impressive maneuvering on behalf of myself and my dear, dear, patient, friends.  The dog is being shuttled out of the city before Artscape begins.  I am evacuating on the Light Rail, to return in time, god willing, for the Farmers Market.  I do want to see Artscape, and  again, I'm excited and proud that it's in Baltimore.  All I'm saying is you never see them shut down the streets  and make a huge deal out of showcasing what I do for a living.  Do you know what neighborhoods I inconvenience with my livelihood?  NONE.  

That being said, if you're new to Bmore, get yourself to Artscape!  Go see what awesome talent lies in this city.  Go take my parking spaces.  Go innundate my bartenders with your questions like, "What's Natty Boh?"  Go enjoy yourself!  (but seriously, don't you dare drive in)

The Book Thing

Let me introduce you to the best thing in this city, bar none.  This is saying quite a bit, because I really do have serious love for the farmer's market.  The Book Thing , located on Vineyard Lane on the outskirts of Charles Village, is a magical place where you bring old books you no longer want and can pick up new ones for free.  Or, perhaps you just want to pick up books.  That's completely fine as well. It's all provided at no cost whatsoever.

I recently heard a Stoop Story podcast where Russell Wattenberg, creator of The Book Thing, explained the story behind what is now what other, larger cities lust after.  It's not only a wonderful concept, it's completely commendable.  Why not give up your old books to people who may want to read them?

The whole set-up is just like walking into the Christmas Happiness Warehouse for Nerds.  Just this past weekend, I found an almost-mint condition of Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods."  I always explore the humor section, the classics, the cookbooks, travel books that are 20+years out of date...  Scouring the shelves is an adventure in and of itself.  So, if you're new to Charm City, hit it up.  Get some free books!

Bienvenidos!

I first came to Charm City in October of 2011, meaning that I'm a relatively young Baltimorean.  When I moved here, I knew the Inner Harbor, where my office was, and the The Wire had been filmed/based off of Baltimore, without ever having seen the show.

I wanted to get involved, so I went to the Baltimore Sun.  I was aghast, or am too cheap, when I heard they charge $0.99 for a monthly online subscription.  What is this, the New York Times?  Get outta here, Bmore Sun.  I went to the intertubes for my news and found an array of fantastic area blogs.  None of them were a step-by-step guide of how to get acquainted with the Baltimore I've come to know and love through trial and error, so here we are.  That, and I've missed blogging.

I was recently told that I'm "boring on paper," in what I was assured was a complimentary fashion, but those things stick with a girl.  If this bores you, consider yourself warned.  It'll probably get awfully banal at times - I won't lie to you.

A brief summary of what I wish I had known coming here, and what I'm still looking to learn are as follows:

-This city has an arts scene that ought to be the envy of the mid-Atlantic.  With Gaia, Dan Deacon, Beach House, Single Carrot Theater, MICA, the BMA, the Walters, the AVAM, Artscape, good 'ol John Waters, and so much more, Baltimore offers a huge variety of artistic options without the price tag of New York.  And, dare I say it (dare I do!), I think they're more original and talented here.
-The people!  They're fantastic!  Having grown up right outside DC, I was accustomed to type-A personalities and cutthroats.  Baltimore doesn't take itself seriously, and I love it for that.  The city is more laid-back and happy to see where the tide will take it; Baltimore is always open to new suggestions.
-The restaurant options here have been disappointing.  Maybe it's because I was spoiled in DC, maybe it's because I love food, maybe it's because I was recently told to go gluten-free by my doctor and the options here just aren't cutting it for me, but whatever the reason, I'm disillusioned.  All my coworkers kept talking up places that are fine, but I get my hopes up each time.  I'm also on a hunt for some solid gluten-free food options around here.  In general, the bars have proven to be wonderful, but the fine dining is always "meh."  No worries, because...
-The Farmer's Market under the expressway is PHENOMENAL.  It may be my favorite thing in this city.  I love to cook food (see: gluten-free, disappointed in other area offerings), and the $1 kale man, 2 for $5 asparagus, $1 radishes, my beloved omelet and kettle korn men are all enough to make me never want to leave Baltimore.  Ever.  Yahoo recently ranked it the best Farmer's Market in the country - take that, Portland!
-Hikes.  Or just outdoors space in general.  As much as I adore my apartment, my "outdoor space" is a meager portion of my fire escape that I have to crawl out of my bedroom window to get to.  I share it with my neighbors, and that hyacinth I left to die out there.  It's very spacious and luxuious in that way that I've enjoyed a glass of wine out there a few times, but the dog gets antsy that he can't join so I'm forced back in.  As a result, I'd like to find more places to take my little basset, and maybe even find some good hiking in the region.  I briefly called Roanoke, VA home, and miss the proximity to amazing hiking very much.
-Club sports here are a way of life.  I convinced some coworkers to join the Bocce League in Federal Hill, and my life will never be the same.  It seems that almost everyone is in a social sports league, so if you're new, I can't recommend this highly enough.  Everyone is there to be social - they're all open to meeting new people.  When bocce season is over, I'm hoping to join a trivia league, because that's as athletic as I get - bocce and trivia.

This list seems paltry, but there is more that's just not coming to mind at the moment.  Welcome, though, and if you have any fun Baltimore tidbits to share, I would love to hear them!