old Baltimore postcard

Well, my mom freaked out a bit and shipped me across the country for a week. Good times! This was actually a few weeks ago – when I disappeared entirely – because when anything blogworthy actually happens I inevitably lose all ability to properly write.

Here’s the official story behind Baltimore Funfest 2008 (I promise to work on the name): My two-years-older-than-me sister, who lives in the all-around adorable Charles Village area, contracted a bacterial infection of some sort. Because I am, sadly, jobless as well as school-less for the moment, I was sent to be a sort of nursemaid. Also, to spy on her and report any lies back to my mother.

I resigned myself to traveling without being able to see any of the city – that is, I expected to stay locked up in a stuffy room for the week, looking longingly out the window and angsting and cooking – but turns out Big Sis wasn’t so sick, after all. And the week turned out to be really enjoyable. I’ve been to Baltimore before – three years ago as a birthday/graduation present, but I wasn’t even eighteen yet and we simply didn’t do as much. Granted, we didn’t hit up the bars this time, or anything like that, but there was less fighting and more going out. My sister and all her friends hate the city with the fire of people who live there. They refused to stop bitching about the how early things close and the occasionally faulty sewer systems. And boy, you don’t want to get them started on the crime/general sketchiness. I just thought everything was so pretty and quaint – hell, even their ghettos fascinated me (just like in the movies, ma!), and a lot of the city still looks like the the above postcard. So much brick and wood! Down here everything is concrete and plastic and plaster. Which, ok, maybe better in the long run, but nowhere near as pretty.

I’ve been putting off writing about the trip because I haven’t got any photos yet, and I like those. A lot. Too much, because I took over two hundred and there wasn’t enough time to get them downloaded in the pre-airport scramble. I’m waiting for Sis to snail mail them to me, and then the posts will flow (I’m sure).

 washington memorial

The picture above is actually from my first vacation. The Washington Monument Memorial is in a place called Mount Vernon (a lot of nice shops and restaurants/cafes). When I went up to it a Random Guy (who, looking back, may or may not have actually worked there) charged me a dollar to walk up. Somehow, this seemed like it might be fun to me. What a mind trip! If you’ve ever wondered what it might feel like to be buried alive, I suggest you try walking this thing. I nearly had a claustrophobic attack, and then you start wondering how stale this air is, and your faux!asthma kicks in, and you wonder how a paramedic team would get anyone out of here and there’s panicking. All of this while the two year old just ahead of you is doing just fine. But the top was really pretty, anyway.