tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76571010025659412462024-02-20T20:43:44.795-08:00Bmore, overheardAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-38761059583483238502011-09-12T19:07:00.000-07:002011-09-12T19:07:35.734-07:00VMobile FreeFest isn't for virgins....<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">or is it? Based on my experience this weekend - it's up for debate:</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Walking from the Festival Stage to the Pavilion Stage (3pm):</div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>Drunk girl to boy: I can smell that girl's...dirty vagina from here.</b></i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sitting on the lawn post-Grace Potter (5-ish pm):</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>C</b><b>ollege Freshman, boy: I smoked all my weed in the car before I got here.</b></i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During the James Murphy show (6-ish pm):</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>Bouncer: Man, you all have a lot of energy.</b></i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Set break before Deadmau5 (9-ish pm):</div><blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Boy walking through the crowd: Mollie! Mollie!</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Girl hanging out: Hi!</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Boy: Hey, are you mollie? </i></b><i>(reaches out & takes Girl's hand)</i><b><i><br />
</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Girl: No. Uh. </i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Boy: O, hey. I'm looking for my friend mollie. </i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Girl: O. hey, I thought you were someone I was looking for.....</i></b></div><b><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Boy: No.</span></i> </b></blockquote><blockquote><b><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Girl: Er, alright. Have a good time!</span></i></b></blockquote><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">good times, indeed. </span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-76806839434223002602011-08-28T08:01:00.000-07:002011-08-28T08:01:58.225-07:0099 problems....<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Scene:</b> Sunny afternoon walking north on Charles, crossing North Avenue. A weary commuter approaches two men as they wait on the median for the light to change.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Man 1: I dunno what to do. Things have been tight lately.</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><i>Man 2: What are you talking about?! You're a drag queen bitch - you make bank. </i></b></div><br />
</blockquote><br />
<br />
<br />
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-53537903915665739532011-06-25T06:17:00.000-07:002011-06-25T06:17:46.543-07:00as American as apple pie<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lunchtime in DC. Georgetown to be exact. The hot weather has subsided enough that office buildings have more people sitting outside than inside. It's a perfect day, really.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A group of young professionals sit-down next to me and begin their conversation by reviewing the contents of each of their lunch bags:</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>YP#1 - Is that Chipolte?</b></i><br />
<i><b>YP#2 - No. This is from the Cha Cha Pizza place next door. It was only $6!</b></i><br />
<i><b>YP#1 - Really? They make burritos too? I'm not sure I trust a place that makes two different cuisines from the same kitchen.</b></i><br />
<i><b>YP#2 - Well, I figure everything's American.</b></i></blockquote><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Aren't we all. </span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-1887904842176139672011-05-25T18:13:00.000-07:002011-05-25T18:13:48.919-07:00We'll meet again on the avenue.<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
-->
</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spring is in the air. This is my favorite time of year. The sun is warming the air and the cool breezes bring sweet scents of blossoms and grass.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The first days of warm weather bring so much activity to the street. People open their front doors and sit on the front stoop with their neighbors and friends. Breezes sweep through open windows of lace or sheer curtains, pulling back, for just a moment, the interior secrets houses held during the colder months. The streets come alive with a cacophony of motor noises, barkers selling cold water, and chatter from people reconnecting.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Earlier this month I was walking in Station North, moving south along Charles Street toward the Charles Theatre. The Maryland Film Festival was in full swing and I was en route on this particular Sunday morning to spend some time in the volunteer tent. Along the way I encountered two wayward men in debate. Approaching me from behind, I hear:</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><blockquote><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">Drifter #1: SHIT! Of course you should take it – 3 hots and cot, man. That’s a good deal.</span></i></b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">Drifter #2: I dunno man. I don’t want to have to deal with that bullshit. The cop said I could get probation.</span></i></b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">Drifter #1: WHAT?! No way man. Too much responsibility. That’s at least a year and you have to show up for shit. You miss one check-in or get busted for sumthin' else and they’ll send you straight to jail anyway. Then whaddaya got? Take the deal – 3 hots and a cot, man.</span></i></b></blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ah, spring. </span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-16526528466249837192011-03-02T19:25:00.000-08:002011-03-02T19:25:10.995-08:00This isn't the Emerald City<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">More than a few weeks ago, the weather was blistering cold. Single-digit temperatures felt sub-zero as wind gusts blew sporadically and freezing rain fell - in short, it was awful.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I am not a big fan of cold weather. I tolerate cold weather in the same way one manages stress while waiting in a long queue at the supermarket. You grab a tabloid and occupy yourself reading about the trashy rich and public lives of others until it is your turn at the register. In winter months, I hole myself up in my apartment and wait the darkness out. If this was the Paleolithic age, and I was the only female, the tribe would be in trouble.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">However, as a commuter, this is methodology is not possible. NO. I must exit the den, layer on clothing, zip up my down parka, and brave the elements. O joy. O rapture.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It happened upon one of my transverses between my cave and Penn Station that I found myself standing at a bus stop, trying to shrink into my coat to stay off the chills. A woman approached me asking for directions. It was her first time using the MTA and she wasn't sure which line she should take to get back to her sublet in Charles Village. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After I confirmed what bus she should take, she began to explain what she was doing in Baltimore. She spoke excitedly about her studies of the interconnection of transit networks or was it public health policies? Um-hum...</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">See, I couldn't concentrate on her words. I was freezing and, as she uttered her first words, a gentleman stumbled out of the station distracting my attention. He swayed on his feet, back-and-forth, in a way that could only mean one thing - he was wasted.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My fellow bus rider followed my gaze to the new arrival. She didn't blink, continuing on with her one-sided conversation. I, frozen, continued to watch the drunk. Then, the grossest thing happened.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The drunk hiccupped, opened his mouth, and let forth the loudest, largest vomit I have ever witnessed. It caused reflux in my throat. I turned around quickly, trying to erase the image from my mind. I immediately forgot how cold I was and concentrated on holding back my own sympathy puke. It was disgusting.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My new friend was non plus. She looked over at the man, who continued to puke, and said:</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Woman: <i>"O that doesn't bother me much. I'm from Detroit."</i></b></span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-28924690003311061342010-11-30T20:51:00.000-08:002010-11-30T20:51:41.183-08:00What if Balzac rode the Amtrak?<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As you may have inferred from my previous post, I am a commuter. Yes, I am that office slave you see in the morning speed walking to Penn Station so as to not spill my coffee from my eco-friendly travel mug. And, yes, that was me standing at the bus stop in the rain staring up the street hoping the bus will actually show up. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Commuting by public transit rocks. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I mean that seriously. I will take commuting by train/bus any day over driving. The stories I encounter daily are beyond real and make the tedious trip entertaining.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Where else can one hear the conversational hat trick that follows:</span></div><i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Overheard #1 on the MARC train, southbound just outside BWI Airport Station</i><b><i> </i></b><br />
<blockquote><b><i>Man on cell phone:</i><span class="UIStory_Message"><i> </i>"so for dinner tonight we are having pickled tongue and heart. That'll get you going. The tongue is dense, while the heart is soft and rich. Quite a combination."</span></b><i></i></blockquote> <i>Overheard #2 on the MARC train, northbound just outside Odenton, MD</i><br />
<blockquote><b><i>Middle-Aged Woman #1:</i> ....so, she is tall and thin. And, the husband, is short and a little homely looking.</b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i>Middle-Aged Woman #2:</i> Do they live in your neighborhood?</b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i>MAW #1:</i> I think so. At least, they are always exercise walking on my street. I think they live in the house with all the gopher holes in the yard. I think she's an anorexic.</b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i>MAW #2:</i> That's my brother's wife.</b><i></i></blockquote> <i>Overheard #3 on the Baltimore MTA Bus, northbound on Charles St. </i><br />
<blockquote><b><i>Young Man:</i> The jobs is sh*t right now. Ain't no one I know whose gettin' work.</b> </blockquote><blockquote><b><i>Older Man:</i> I know that's right.</b></blockquote><blockquote><b><i>Young Man:</i> I've had like, two three different jobs in the last two years. That's why I've been dealing drugs. I've been dealing since I was 16 and that sh*t is consistent.</b></blockquote><span style="font-size: small;">yahtzee! </span>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-56157353256580993482010-11-17T19:12:00.000-08:002010-12-31T07:34:15.870-08:00Golden memories can turn the night into day.<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A good friend of mine is studying for her MLA at Johns Hopkins. This semester she is taking a course about memory (the title of which, ironically, escapes my memory) and how individual memories are shaped by senses than by cognitive process. Essentially, you are going to remember an event not because the event happened but because you can recall a smell or sound from the event. Cool, and way more intellectual than I prefer to get on this blog. Don't worry, there is a point to this tale.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have been giving this theory some consideration lately. See, I have plenty of time to do so as I commute by train at least an hour a day between Baltimore and DC. If memories are formed by senses more than by thought, what can I trust of my collected memories? Childhood is a faint blur to me now, but I do remember the smell of the leaves the morning after a rain as I walked to school. I also remember the pain I felt when my brother and I used to test one another's mettle by giving each other indian burns and waiting for the other to yelp. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet, childhood is more than these simple memories. I am the character I am today because I have memories of friendships and experiences, both good and bad, that influence my mental process. But these memories are not connected with a sound, touch, or smell - at least, that I can trace. So are they true memories or something I've created over time to justify my emotions? Okay, I know, I promised a point. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A few weeks ago, I was stranded at Union Station - waiting on a train to eventually take me where I needed to go. In an effort to occupy myself rather than sit in the waiting room watching the Amtrak Customer Courtesy video one more time, I went window shopping. Well, after I ate Taco Bell.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, there I was in Claire's boutique (don't ask) with a gaggle of tweenies running about the store. Keeping away from these girls was not an option as the space is not large and it is crammed wall to wall with so many brightly colored accessories. SO MANY.</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a few minutes I decided it was time to move on and precisely as I turned toward the entrance/exit the girls discovered the most amazing thing ever:</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Tweenie #1: <i>OMG, you guys, we should all get tiaras....to remember.</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Tweenies #2-6: <i>OMG YOU ARE SO RIGHT! (in unison and in high C)</i></span></b></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've decided, I think there is something to this sensory memory stuff. I TOTALLY would remember things better wearing a tiara. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-83120379710822719362010-10-19T19:48:00.000-07:002010-12-31T07:34:37.345-08:00African turtles are carnivores. Fear the turtle.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So folks, as promised, I am posting your submissions. This one is from Sarah Perrich. She is rather funny. You should check out her blogs: <a href="http://sarahperrich.blogspot.com/">How (not) to write a book </a>and <a href="http://wasconstantinople.blogspot.com/">Was Constaninople</a>. </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sarah's story begins on the light rail to BWI from Baltimore. Sarah, an avid reader, always seems to pick the wrong people to sit near, loud talkers. It is Saturday, the Baltimore Marathon is happening back in the city. </span><span style="font-size: small;">The train goes over a bridge over some water.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div><b><span style="font-size: small;">Woman: <i>Oh! Oh! See, sometimes, sometimes on some of those logs down there? Like see, like them logs down there sticking out of the water. Like see that log sticking out of the water? That one right there. See sometimes there'll be a snapping turtle on it. </i></span></b></div></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Man: <i>No shit! How big? </i></span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">W: <i>Oh, like this big. He'll just be sittin on the log, like that log out there. But he isn't there today. But they're snapping turtles. They're the kind that, like, snap. And bite. </i></span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">M: <i>So, a turtle has, like, what? Webbed feet? </i> </span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">W: <i>Lord, I dunno. I never get close enough to see. I wouldn't go out in that water if you paid me. It's like when we go down Ocean City, I don't get in that water either. Cause you know, you just know there's sharks out there, just a little bit further. There's all kinds of sharks just waiting. I'm always like, why would I get into water with sharks and jellyfish? </i></span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">laughter. </span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">M: <i>I know that's right. </i> </span></b></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">pause.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></b> </blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">M: <i>I still can't believe Africans always win that marathon race. </i></span></b></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I am certain, it is at this point Sarah closed her book, sighed in Charlie Brown fashion, and moved to a new seat on the opposite side of the train car.</span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-14844815708484139202010-10-02T10:07:00.000-07:002010-12-31T07:34:52.116-08:00Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus. Playa's go to Amsterdam.<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34tE9iOsrCQ2QWQll79MHMz4qdKUDls0Bbuey62ljMH5fx4PuSnA4WM6LZAdSPyhICIDAtkI5u3wPNcqfdPW2B52FquJxR_I3JX1FIHvauGKTXVItIZHOwESA842GtSBawY5IRUaxJvCf/s1600/101004_cartoon_079_a15242_p465.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34tE9iOsrCQ2QWQll79MHMz4qdKUDls0Bbuey62ljMH5fx4PuSnA4WM6LZAdSPyhICIDAtkI5u3wPNcqfdPW2B52FquJxR_I3JX1FIHvauGKTXVItIZHOwESA842GtSBawY5IRUaxJvCf/s320/101004_cartoon_079_a15242_p465.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As a single woman, I have heard my fair share of advice about relationships.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Friends, family, even strangers in the hair salon take it upon themselves to share little nuggets of wisdom to help me, y’know, find that right mate.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of this advice is welcome, much of it not.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Yet for some reason, these random tidbits of information stay with me.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like this one: You never know who you’re going to meet.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Keep yourself open to possibilities.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That seems pretty mundane advice, right?</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Advice about relationships and love are akin to the answer to the question, “How long is a piece of string?”</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Now, I’m not going to go all “Carrie” on this post and create a single girl’s guide to all things in love and war.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> But I will say that, every once in a while, I do let the sound of my mother’s voice repeating this advice – over and over and over again – get the best of me.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, I put on my best I-only-look-like-I-put-this-together-casually outfit, check my hair and make-up (twice) in the mirror, and head out for an adventure – optimistic for whatever may happen.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And there I am, outside a concert at Pier 6, when I hear this from a group of guys sitting next to me:</span></div><blockquote><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Man: <i>“I’m going to Amsterdam for the babes and the bud. Either are better there than what I’m getting here.”</i></span></b></div></blockquote><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I guess he doesn’t speak to his mom much anymore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hey ya’ll – I’m opening up the gmail for your Bmore Overheard contributions.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Send me your best, worst, silly, or just plain ridiculous overheards and I will do my best to give it justice.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Email me at: <a href="mailto:ajinbmore@gmail.com">ajinbmore@gmail.com</a>.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Sa-weet!!</span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7657101002565941246.post-50848351964382583302010-09-06T16:38:00.000-07:002010-12-31T07:35:08.268-08:00There is a first for everything...<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">A couple of weeks ago, I decided to take a jog through the Inner Harbor of Baltimore. It was a Sunday evening and I thought, incorrectly, I had missed the tourist crowd. Apparently, I was the only resident of Baltimore that did not know there was a tall ship docked at the Harbor this weekend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The end of my run brought me to the steps of the Maryland Science Center. I was relieved to have made it this far. One, because I was finally at the end of this madness. Two, because I was finally at the end of this madness.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHPkgsWqb1RMW3EONuytpI2n0ol7SN536yFpdcUi7b7rpdTIOQ421ou6t8NuYUwcvJ8QvOSyC2r9uqt42tRVEljfiImth-JIr5InVh0IIM-4GLX1Zi0GnZ81QLhekbg-HpDLiFZmSqZYW/s1600/msc_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHPkgsWqb1RMW3EONuytpI2n0ol7SN536yFpdcUi7b7rpdTIOQ421ou6t8NuYUwcvJ8QvOSyC2r9uqt42tRVEljfiImth-JIr5InVh0IIM-4GLX1Zi0GnZ81QLhekbg-HpDLiFZmSqZYW/s320/msc_2010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Not a picture of the actual event. This is a reenactment for dramatic effect</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">As I made my way around the bend of the sidewalk I noticed a banner was erected along the cement wall of the MSC. There were pictures of famous events/discoveries of science depicted on the banner, along with the new tourism slogan: <a href="http://bmorehappy.com/">bmorehappy.com</a>. It makes you ponder, who approved this marketing contract and is possible to reinstate public flogging?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">In all honesty, I would not have noticed the banner if it were not for the following:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<blockquote><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Child in stroller: <i>"Mommy, who is that man with the apple on his head?"</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mother: <i>"Wha? O, that's George Washington. He cut down an apple tree. Or something."</i></span></b></blockquote><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I closed my eyes, briefly, and hoped these people were from Canada.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And that is my first contribution to this blog. Thanks for reading this far. I hope you stay tuned for more.</span></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06240001288304510719noreply@blogger.com1