"Eli's coming, hide your heart"

I know I say all dogs are special but Eli, my newest dog-in-law, really is exceptional. He's a service dog, trained to assist my step mother-in-law who has Multiple Sclerosis.

And, as an added bonus, he's completely adorable. But what black lab isn't?

Eli joins Kay and the family thanks to the great people (and dogs) of Fidos For Freedom -- a non-profit group in Laurel that trains assistance dogs and the people who need them.

Rich and I met Eli for the first time a few weeks ago when we ran into him (with Kay, of course) at the mall. FFF takes a lot of outings so the dogs and people in training can get used to all kinds of situations. Eli already deals much better with crowds than I do.

With all the education and training Eli has, we feel seriously inferior in comparison. Rich jokes that he feels like he should wear a tie when we visit Eli. Heck, the dog is only two-years-old and he already knows sign language. Of course his primary duties include fetching things for Kay, supporting her as she walks, and "bracing" himself to help her in getting up and down.

Kay and Eli are now a little over a week into their 30-day bonding period. During this time, Kay is the only one allowed to care for Eli. No one else can feed him, let him out, or play with him. They're also not allowed to take him out in public yet. The idea is that Eli and Kay will use this time to really get to know one another.

We stopped by to visit yesterday and basically had to pretend that Eli wasn't there. For a dog lover, this is torture. Usually when I see a dog laying on the floor, my immediate instinct is to lay down right next to him. With Eli, I can't do this. He has a job to do and I can't interfere -- no matter how cute he may be. He's a working dog, not a pet, and that means no petting or fawning over him.

Kay starting going to FFF twice a week back in January to learn the commands she would need to know for working with a service dog. There are so many rules but she passed every test with flying colors.

When you first start at FFF, they tell you not to become attached to any one dog because you don't get any say in the dog selected for you. Just looking at Eli's little lab face, I don't know how someone can't fall in love with him.

Kay and Eli end their official bonding period on September 4, which also happens to be Kay and Harvey's 30th wedding anniversary. Seems like a pretty good way to kick off their next 30 years, if you ask me.

My musical motivational mix

Every once in a while everyone needs a little motivation in life. Music can help.

So, because I'm dieting once again and need all the inspiration I can get, I've compiled my list of the Broadway songs that give me that little extra dose of encouragement.

Click each song title to hear a sample of the song. Let me know if you want me to burn you a copy of the CD.

1. Totally Fucked -- Spring Awakening
Key lyrics: "But you're fucked if you speak your mind; And you know, uh-huh, you will."

Okay, so this may seem like an odd choice to start off a set of music that's supposed to be motivational but allow me to explain. When you're feeling kinda crappy to begin with, it's important to laugh and this song never fails to crack me up. It also reminds me that voicing my opinion isn't, um, always the best way to go. Let's just say my mouth has been known to get me in trouble.

2. For Now -- Avenue Q
Key lyrics: "Except for death and paying taxes, everything in life is only for now."

As if singing (and fornicating) puppets aren't cheer-inducing enough, this finale from Avenue Q reminds us that everything in life -- the good and the bad -- is only temporary. So if you've got it good, count your blessings. And if you're in the dumps, like my grandmother always says, this too shall pass.

3. Schadenfreude -- Avenue Q
Key lyrics: "The world needs people like you and me who've been knocked around by fate. 'Cause when people see us, they don't want to be us, and that makes them feel great."

Another selection from Avenue Q, this one reminds us that you may have it bad but just look at everyone else. Happiness at the misfortune of others isn't a bad thing. The song gets bonus points for teaching me to spell a difficult German word. Actually, that's a lie. I still can't spell it.

4. Do You Hear the People Sing? -- Les Miserables
Key lyrics: "There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes."

This is the most rousing, join the cause, inspiring kind of song I know. We even played the instrumental version as the recessional for our wedding. It's just one of those songs that gets me all happy and hopeful, even if just about everyone who's on stage during this number dies pretty soon thereafter. I went back and forth on whether to add this to label this a motivational song but hey, it motivates me so here it is.

5. Astonishing -- Little Women
Key lyrics: "I may be small but I've got giant plans."

This song, the last one in Act I before intermission, is sung by Jo, one of the March sisters, as she leaves home to embark on her writing career. It really leaves you wanting more and reminds you that sometimes you have to step beyond your comfort zone to achieve your dreams.

6. So Much Better -- Legally Blonde
Key lyrics: "I am so much better than before."

This song is all about girl power. It's the Spice Girls meet Gloria Steinam. Again the last song before intermission, here we see Harvard law student Elle Woods realizing that she can succeed on her own and doesn't need a man, even a rich cute one, to make it in life.

7. Find Your Grail -- Spamalot
Key lyrics: "Life is really up to you, you must choose what to pursue."

In an otherwise fluffy and comical show, this song really stands out to me as something you can actually take seriously. Everyone has their own goal in life and it's up to you to figure out what it is and how to get there. And oh yeah -- always look on the bright side of life.

8. Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Key lyrics: "I'm through accepting limits, cause someone says they're so."

Another song strong on the girl power scale, it's no wonder so many young girls flock to a musical like Wicked. The primary message in this song, and in the musical itself, is that your outward appearance doesn't matter but rather it's how you treat others that determines your place in life.

9. You Can't Stop the Beat -- Hairspray
Key lyrics: "So if you don't like the way I look well, I just don't give a damn."

This, my final selection, is about being comfortable in your own skin and standing up for what is right, no matter what society says. Perhaps more importantly, it's also the best damn musical finale of all time. It leaves you singing as you leave the theater (both live and movie) and has an unshakable sound. Where else can you look at the road to racial integration with such fun and whimsy?

Well, that wraps up my motivational mix. It may be difficult to understand some of my choices without seeing all of these shows live. I guess sometimes you really have to know the context. For that reason, I strongly urge all of you to go see these Broadway shows. I've thoroughly enjoyed each and everyone of them.

Thanks for the memories, Cal

I don't claim to be Cal Ripken Jr.'s biggest fan. I can't quote his stats off the top of my head like so many O's fans and I'm not venturing to Cooperstown this weekend like thousands of other Baltimorians.

But I did grow up in Charm City in the 1980s and 90s so for me it's pretty hard not to love the guy as both a baseball player and a hometown hero.

I was born in Baltimore in 1978. This means that means until I turned 22, I never saw an Orioles game without Cal right there, front and center. (Or, more accurately, somewhere between second and third base and then later, at third.)

Like the rest of my generation, I grew up watching the Iron Man play and never knew baseball to be anything else. I got chills when my parents drove us past his house out in the valley, always wondering what stood beyond the giant R's on the gates.

As kids, my brothers and I were members of the junior Orioles and watched countless games at Memorial Stadium. We came to love the Friday night student discounts when the Orioles made their home at Camden Yards.

I was just starting my senior year of high school when Cal broke Lou Gehrig's consecutive game streak in September of 1995. I couldn't get tickets for the 2130 or 2131 games but I watched on television in total awe of the man. After all, I'm the girl who considered it a streak if she made it to school three days in a row.

I was studying abroad in Scotland the summer after my first year of law school when Cal announced his retirement. As the news made its way across the pond courtesy of calls from home, my friend Kristen and I ran to the University of Aberdeen's computer lab for more information.

We got the audio working on one of the aging computers and the streaming video on another and we sat there quietly watching Cal's press conference with his announcement. We immediately bought a set of 10 tickets for the Sept. 21, 2001 game against the Yankee's -- what would be one of Cal's last three home games.

The terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001 came and baseball took a back seat, as did just about everything else in life. With several games cancelled, we were no longer holding tickets for Cal's last homestand. But when playing resumed, there was Cal and there we were at Oriole Park getting our last look at him on the field. (Cal ultimately played his last game two weeks later on Oct. 6, 2001.)

It was no surprise that Cal would be elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame the first year he was eligible. Many people started planning their trip to Cooperstown long before the baseball writers took the vote.

Kristen and her husband, Nathan, are making the pilgrimage to see Cal inducted and I hope they have an incredible time. We are glad to have joined them on the first part of their Cal tribute by going to Ripken Stadium to see Cal's minor league team, the Aberdeen Ironbirds, followed by the official Orioles send-off for Cal at Oriole Park. The latter featured free bobbleheads and let's be honest -- there isn't much I wouldn't do for a free bobblehead.

The atmosphere at Camden Yards on Tuesday night was amazing. It's been so long since I've seen that many people at the stadium. This year's Orioles team sure doesn't have that kind of drawing power.

I loved being there and seeing the greats like Brooks Robinson and Eddie Murray congratulate Cal on his induction. It was like for a few minutes the city could forget about its losing baseball team, rising murder rate, and general aura of corruption. All that mattered was Cal was there and he still loves us, or fakes it really well.

I admit that some of the tributes to Cal in recent weeks may have been a bit overboard but hey, with the supposed sports stars we have nowadays, it's pretty nice having someone like Cal to admire. Thanks for the memories, Cal.

A touch of Baltimore on the side

For the second time in less than a week I got to enjoy a slice of Hollywood while not straying too far from home. This time it was the Baltimore premiere of the new Hairspray movie, where I took my husband as part of his birthday week extravaganza.

The big highlight of the evening for me was the chance to meet John Waters, thus bringing to two the number of celebrities I’ve met who have made guest appearances on The Simpsons. (The first, in case you’re wondering, is Ron “Opie” Howard. His daughter went to my high school.)

Getting to see the movie with John Waters sitting just a few feet away was quite the thrill. I particularly enjoyed his brief, yet poignant, cameo in the opening sequence of the film. That scene alone is worth the price of admission.

Speaking of the price of admission, it wasn't cheap. At $150 a person, I was surprised to see quite the large number of children in attendance. Growing up, my father wouldn’t fork over the $4.50 it cost to see a regular movie, let alone pop for something like this.

But now that I'm a pseudo-adult, I can spend my money with reckless abandon if I so choose. Realizing that here in Baltimore we don't exactly have many chances like this, I absolutely had to indulge.

And it was that Baltimore atmosphere that really made the evening for us. Baltimore is not Hollywood and that's why I love it. People dressed in everything from t-shirts to tuxes. We even got to hang out with local baker-turned-celebrity Chef Duff and his Charm City Cakes crew, complete with their Hairspray-inspired cake pictured above. (Note the roaches included for authenticity.)

Now the film itself, interestingly enough, eliminated some of the Balto-centric details that made me fall in love the original story in the first place. Gone were the references to Essex Community College and the dangers of North Avenue. But I suppose that’s to be expected when putting together a movie meant to have such broad appeal. And one that's filmed in Toronto.

The movie's cast more than made up for any of the missing homages. In addition to adorable newcomer Nikki Blonsky as Tracy Turnblad and long-time star John Travolta appearing as her mom, I loved seeing the likes of Jerry Stiller, Allison Janney, and Christopher Walken in the film.

And while I personally never thought of John Waters and kids in the same sentence, I must admit that what the studio did by casting teen favorites like Zac Efron and Amanda Bynes is nothing short of genius. You already had the Broadway fans, John Waters devotees, and all of Baltimore on board, but this really sures up the 16-and-under crowd. Of course star power like John Travolta, Queen Latifah, and Michele Pfeiffer doesn’t exactly hurt things. (Is it bad, by the way, that I find John Travolta far more attractive than Zac Efron? I’m really showing my age, huh?)

I'll likely see the movie again in the near future. It won't be the same as watching it in the same theater with John Waters, Nikki Blonsky, Zac Efron, etc., but I know I'll be entertained just the same. Too bad there won't be free popcorn next time around.

Who needs the Kwik E Mart? I do!

It would be a bit of an understatement to say that my husband and I are Simpsons fans.

We walked down the aisle to a version of the Simpsons theme.

Our closest friends held a Simpsons-themed bridal shower for us, complete with Duff Beer and a Homer cake.

For his birthday last year, I commissioned a former Simpsons animator to Simpsonize us in a piece of artwork.

And I've long said that I would never camp out for tickets to anything... unless it was a Simpsons movie.

To appease fans like us (and promote the upcoming release of the Simpsons movie on July 27, of course), Matt Groening and company converted a dozen 7-Eleven convenience stores in the U.S. and Canada into Kwik E Marts.

Thankfully for us, one of the chosen locations is in Bladensburg, MD, less than an hour away.

We visited our own little Mecca over the weekend and embraced our inner geeks like never before. We drank blue squishees and ate pink donuts and had a sugar high that lasted for hours.

While I was thrilled to see several other camera-toting fans scoping out our own little piece of Springfield, I did get the feeling that not everyone was quite as excited. I overheard one young man in the parking lot commenting that he's "never seen white people go this crazy over anything." Some of the people waiting in the long line to buy their morning coffee were similarly nonplussed.

So recognizing that not everyone is as obsessed as I am, rather than going into great detail about the Kwik E Mart, I'll just share a few pictures.

BART: Milhouse, my friend, you and I are going on a spending spree.
MILHOUSE: My doctor says I'm not supposed to go on sprees.
BART: What about jags?
MILHOUSE: Jags are fine.
BART: Wonderful!



APU: Our wide variety of gum comes in both stick and ball.
BART: I'm not really about gum, but I like the whole chewing thing.
APU: Are you averse to crispy centers, sir?
BART: Not at all.
APU: Then we have much to discuss.

Thank you. Come again!

If you're going to San Francisco...

Forget about the stupid flowers in your hair. If you're going to be in San Francisco for any reason, the one absolute must-do is the Taste of San Francisco food tour.

I can't say enough positive things about this incredible, edible journey through the North Beach neighborhood. (But watch me try anyway.) To put things in perspective, I honestly don't think there's ever been a time that I've opted for bread over chocolate. Heck, our guide almost made me think about cooking a meal for once. But just almost.

We started out at Caffe Roma Coffee Roasting Co. where we sipped cappuccino and learned about what makes for good coffee. As someone who generally dislikes warm beverages, specifically coffee drinks, I was actually very interested in the roasting process.

I must say I enjoyed my very first cappuccino ever far more than I thought I would. I had no idea that roasting is what actually releases the aroma and flavor from the coffee bean, nor that the longer a bean goes between roasting and brewing, the more acidic it becomes. This accounts for the bitter taste that I dislike in the first place. But because Caffe Roma roasts its beans daily, there isn't that same acidity.

From coffee we moved onto chocolate -- specifically truffles. We ventured into XOX Truffles which is recognized by USA Today as one of the top three chocolatiers and by Chocolatier Magazine as one of its top ten favorite artisan chocolatiers. (Note to self: How is it possible that there is a magazine focusing on chocolate and I don't have a subscription?)

I thought we would get to taste one or two truffles at XOX but instead, they handed each of a us a bag with one of every flavor they serve. I think the franboise/raspberry was my favorite. I have no idea what franboise is but I love it.

We made a quick stop at the church which refused to marry Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe, and then it was off to what I can only describe as heaven on earth -- Liguria Bakery.

Liguria Bakery is family-run and has been around since 1911, making only focaccia. The sons come in overnight and start baking and then go home when the mom opens the shop at 8 a.m. When everything is gone, which is usually by 11 a.m. at the very latest, they close for the day.

By the time we got to the bakery around 10:30, they only had three varieties left: onion, raisin, and pizza. We sampled each of them and every single bite was magical. This wasn't some of that crappy focaccia you find on sandwiches at Ruby Tuesday or some other chain restaurant. This was real, melt-in-your-mouth, savor-every-bite goodness. They say a lot of it has to do with the water in San Francisco so it can't be replicated elsewhere. Just my luck.

We polished off the focaccia before heading to another bakery. The Italian French Baking Co. of San Francisco has everything from sourdough bread to some of the softest biscotti I've ever had. (Incidentally, if anyone can explain to me the difference between mondel bread and biscotti, I would really like to hear it.) I particularly enjoyed the chocolate-dipped macaroon, a far cry from the canned variety served at Passover.

This stop also included a tour of the back of the bakery with two huge brick ovens that have been in use for 80 years. Several San Francisco restaurants get their bread from this bakery and it's pretty clear why they do.

With sourdough in hand, we ventured over to the Palermo Deli for olive oil and salami. I don't really like or eat either of them so I was a bit lost during the discussions. Plus, it was really chilly and I had my thoughts set on the next stop on the tour.

By the time we reached theVictoria Pastry Co., the last tasting on the tour, I was pretty much stuffed. I was so stuffed that I only ate one cream-filled pastry. I actually turned down a second one. This is very possibly a first.

We wrapped up at the Purple Onion, the club where the likes of Robin Williams and the Smothers Brothers got their starts. We didn't eat anything here but our guide was kind enough to give us recommendations for anything at all food related in the Bay Area.

At this point we went back to our hotel room, polished off our doggie bags from the tour, and set out in search of more of that glorious San Francisco food.

Looks like a visit to Weight Watchers better be my next stop.

Our visit to the other bay

Prior to this past week, the extent of my San Francisco knowledge came directly from the opening credits of Full House.

Now I've learned enough to know that the classic 80s sitcom wasn't even filmed there.

But I also learned that San Francisco is a pretty cool city, especially once you learn to stop fearing the hills.

We arrived on Tuesday and navigated our way on BART from the Oakland Airport to our home away from home, the Orchard Hotel. Located right on the Powell Street Cable Car line, the hotel's location couldn't be better. And the free internet access and breakfast sweetened the deal even more.

After a nice afternoon nap we ventured into Chinatown, just a block from the hotel. We expected to find some good food and prices but weren't overly wowed. It seemed more touristy than anything and Rich certainly lamented the lack of vegetables in our chow mein.

Wednesday, the Fourth of July, brought us a San Francisco City tour as well as our visit to Alcatraz. The city tour covered all the important tourist spots like the Golden Gate Bridge, the Painted Ladies/Postcard Row, a view from atop Twin Peaks, the Castro, Union Square, and a drive past what we were told was Haight-Asbury. (I considered a return visit to actually explore the Haight-Asbury neighborhood but my meager hippie tendencies, which really don't extend beyond my Birkenstocks, voted no.)

We finished off the Fourth with a dinner of dungeness crab, which I found to be surprisingly tasty. It's clearly not my beloved steamed crabs of Maryland, but the garlic sauce served as a satisfactory one-time substitute for Old Bay. If only we could get enormous crabs like that here and not have to sell off vital organs to afford it.

We reserved Thursday for our little jaunt down into Silicon Valley so Rich could complete his work component of our trip. I drove the sporty little blue Mustang up and down my carefully planned route so we could hit all the big tech companies like Apple, Yahoo!, Google, Intel, etc. (Note: I only opted for the Ford Mustang after the Corolla I reserved was no longer available and I had to choose between the cute sports car and a ginormous sedan popular among the over-70 crowd.) We ended Thursday by taking in Jersey Boys at the Curran Theater.

Friday was definitely the highlight of the trip for me. We took the cable car to the top of Lombard Street and wandered down the windy street, expressing far too much enjoyment as cars tried to navigate the windy path. We wandered down to Washington Square and watched people do tai chi (presumably) until the start of our food tour. I can't rave about that tour enough and I'll elaborate on it in my next post.

I miss San Francisco. I really miss the weather where we enjoyed temps in the 60s and 70s all the time. I won't, however, miss the street people who always have their hands out. But hey, at least most of the panhandlers in San Francisco try to offer some sort of service in return for a donation. In Baltimore they just rob you.

I'd like to return to San Francisco one day, maybe even as part of a future cruise. You can't beat the weather and at least the hills would help me walk off some of the food I gorged myself on.

And speaking of food, be sure to stay tuned for my next post featuring the glorious food tour of San Francisco. Mmmmmmm. Focaccia!!!!

When weather attacks

That's not a layer of film on my glasses. It's really that hazy.

We're less than a week into the official summer season and I'm really not sure how much more I can take of this heat and humidity.

I'm the last person to go all Al Gore on you, but I do have what amounts to a somewhat unnatural dislike for this hot weather. I'm perfectly satisfied as long as the temperature is between 65 and 72 and slightly overcast. But a few degrees either way or an errant sunbeam and my otherwise pleasant demeanor turns remarkably less so.

I truly hate the summer. I don't handle the heat and humidity well and to make matters worse, my complexion was practically designed for skin cancer. And I'm certainly no fan of thunder storms (scattered or otherwise), tropical storms, hurricanes, or anything involving a front, squall, or clipper.

My severe disdain for summer weather goes back to childhood when I would freak out whenever it looked like it was going to storm. I don't know if it was a beach vacation ruined by Hurricane Andrew or the tornado that hit a few miles away when I was in 7th grade, but storms have always made me nervous. As I see it, rain leads to storms which leads to power failures, flooding, wind damage, lightning, cable outages, and all kinds of bad things. Don't believe me? Ask the people of New Orleans.

The TV weather people don't exactly make it easy on me. It's not a comfort to me when InstaSuperDopplerAccuWeatherTrackerPlus software can track a tornado watch to my street, zero in on my house and tell me to take cover in the basement. I don't have a basement.

Norm Lewis, John Collins, Bob Turk, Neal Estano, Tom Tasslemyer, Justin Berk -- all of them know just how to push my buttons. Sometimes it's a giant green L headed right for us. Last week we were right in the middle of a red quadrangle. Meanwhile, I envision the roof of my house being ripped off. So please don't talk to me about barometric pressure, dew point, or El Nino. Life is stressful enough without weather drama.

It's gotten so that the Weather Channel, formerly the beacon of all that is weather, can't even stick to simple forecasts anymore. Now we're given programming like Storm Stories, Full Force Nature, and It Could Happen Tomorrow -- y'know, just in case your own local weather on the 8's doesn't get your pulse racing enough.

Now in case you think I'm being unfair to summer, I should note that I could also do without winter weather. The weathermen can't get enough of that wintery mix, can they? They thrive off of the milk/bread/toilet paper insanity that is a Baltimore winter. Broadcasting from the salt dome is like Christmas to them.

But that white stuff is actually looking pretty good about now. And all I can do is sit back in my climate-controlled abode and count down the days until my beloved fall when it's safe to venture outside again.

No antiques at this roadshow

There's nothing like public television to tell you you're worthless. As if the pledge drives don't make you feel bad enough.

"Today's great programming has been made possible by viewers like you," they tell us. Yes, I know I'm a freeloader. I like it that way. Don't try to make me feel guilty. Now go back to the 10th anniversary of Les Miserables please.

But I digress.

Today I'm talking about Antiques Roadshow, the quirky little show-that-could that took up residence at the Baltimore Convention Center this past weekend. I was one of the few lucky enough to win tickets.

Let me rephrase that. I was one of the 3,400 given the opportunity to spend four hours standing on a hard concrete floor while lugging around items that may or may not be worth something. But even though all of our items fell into the latter category, it was kinda neat.

As soon as I found out we had the chance to go, I knew I would have to check out the treasure trove that is my grandparents' house. They have dust older than I am. So just as expected, trustworthy Grandma and Grandpa came up with a handful of interesting pieces for us to take.

The first two things we selected came from my great-grandfather's jewelry store. My grandmother's father, Anton Horvat, came to the U.S. from Hungary in the early 1900's. A professional jeweler, he set up shop on Charles Street in Baltimore. When the Great Depression hit, people brought in anything and everything made of metal to pawn for enough money to make it through the week.

A tea caddy, made by J.E. Caldwell & Co. of Philadelphia and engraved with the year 1906 on the bottom, is one of those items. According to my grandmother, the piece is a repoussé which I've since learned is a fancy way for describing an old technique of forming metal. The silver expert said the tea caddy should be worth about $100. It's a neat little thing and I wish I had an actual use for it. In the meantime, it's perfect for sitting on a shelf somewhere.

The other piece of metal work we took in is one that I've always liked -- a card case, like women used to carry back in the 1800s. The appraiser said it's in really good condition and indicative of the interest in the culture of the Far East. The piece, engraved with initials and May '88 (presumably 1888) is said to be worth in the neighborhood of $400. I'm actually tempted to use it as a business card case but chances are I'd set off too many metal detectors.

My great-grandmother's purse turned out to be the big disappointment of the day when we learned that it's actually worth less than any bag you could buy at Coach. The intricate hand-stitching is beautiful but apparently a lot of people thought so too and they made tons of them. Because of that, they're a dime a dozen. Well, technically they're not a dime a dozen. Specifically, it would go for somewhere between $60 and $80.

The last thing from my grandparents that we took along was a set of African mask bookends. Unfortunately, the story surrounding the bookends is worth much than the bookends themselves. My grandfather's parents ran a tavern in Baltimore back in the 1930s and 1940s. Apparently some sailors came into port and spent the day flirting with my great-grandmother and running up a bar tab. They used these bookends, said to be from their world travels, to pay off the bill.

According to the appraiser at the tribal art section, the bookends are nothing more than reproductions made for tourist purposes. He said that between 1920 and 1960, you could find these in most places up and down the coast of Africa. Still, they're worth about $150. Plus, they've graced my grandparents' end tables for the past 50 years so that counts for something.

Finally, the one piece I thought was worth the least -- a small pin/pendant Rich's step-dad found years ago on a parking lot -- turned out to be worth the most. What I thought had to be fake actually turned out to be diamonds worth $400. I tried my hardest to take a picture of the pin but the sparkly diamonds defeated my best efforts.

So while we didn't exactly fare well at Roadshow and never made it on camera, I definitely look forward to tuning in come January for the highlights of the Baltimore stop.

And remember PBS: Maybe if my stuff was actually worth something, I could afford to donate a few bucks and snag myself one of those cool tote bags.

It's only a hyphen

It wasn’t until I got married and decided to hyphenate my last name that I realized what fear a simple piece of punctuation instills in people.

Changing your name, whether it's due to marriage, divorce, adoption, or parents who wanted you to get beat up, is hard enough as it is. And yet I decided to make it even harder.

Little did I know that somehow I was the very first person on earth to ever choose to hyphenate. I mean clearly, if anyone else had done it before, maybe people would know how to deal with it, right?

Apparently not. So to Jada Pinkett-Smith, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, and Carol Moseley-Braun: I know your pain.

My bank started things off by telling me to pick just one last name. Then, a certain credit card company made life particularly difficult for me. “We don’t have hyphens,” the representative told me over the phone. “Okay, but um, that’s my name,” I responded. “Sorry. Nothing we can do,” he said.

Somehow people with other pieces of punctuation in their name don't face the same challenges. No one gets a puzzled look when they hear a last name like O'Malley. It hardly seems fair.

Every time I go to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy I have to ready myself for the inevitable confusion. I start out by saying “My last name is B-S. The first name is Alisa.” Then I get a befuddled look from the pharmacy technician. “It’s hyphenated,” I explain. Then they ask “Okay, so what’s it under.” I didn’t realize I’m supposed to be familiar with the store’s filing system. This has been going on for over two and a half years.

Now I’m fine with getting cards addressed to me as just Alisa B. or Alisa S., even though neither is technically correct. Heck, sometimes I use one or the other if the situation suites me. It’s the variations that get to me. Please don't mash both last names together. That just looks silly.

I read in the Sun a few months ago that Stephanie Rawlings Blake, president of the Baltimore City Council, got fed up with people calling her Stephanie Rawlings or Stephanie Blake and decided to hyphenate. I hope it works for her.

When it comes to me, I'm not changing anything. Both last names are all mine, like it or not. And hey, as long as the people who handle my paycheck get it right, I'll be just fine.