BS scores 14 in rout over JCP*

With a powerful offense, the BS team managed a successful 14-snowglobe haul in its 2007 Black Friday Classic, besting last year's total by one.

The trio came late to the game this year, not starting until 4:30, despite JCPenney's unprecedented 4 a.m. start time. The calculated risk paid off, however, with the team utilizing the crowd to its advantage.

Averaging 4.6 carries each, the team started off slowly with a one-by-one approach, coming up with three on the first drive. They returned for an additional two each, with Matt and Alisa each going hard for the fourth.

JCPenney put up a good defense, again limiting distribution to just one entrance. This year they strengthened the line, using an untested three-man block pattern.

The new strategy proved tough, forcing the BS team into a huddle just before halftime and ultimately resulting in a detour to Boscov's.

Rested again after the half, BS came on strong as it shed hats and glasses in a last-ditch strike. Alisa went back for the extra point and Matt "the vacuum sleever" followed up with a two-fisted grab at a temporarily unguarded table, bringing to total score to 14.

"It was a total team effort," Matt said at the post-game wrap-up at Staples. "We didn't want to run up the score, but I'm really proud of the way our guys hung in there."


*With apologies to my husband, who will undoubtedly criticize my sports analogy. I promise to leave the sports coverage to you in the future.

Only a bagel can fill this hole

On the eve of Thanksgiving, when I should probably be thinking about all the things I'm thankful for, I can't stop thinking about the one thing I've lost.

It's been nearly two months since I've had a decent bagel.

It's been nearly two months since New Town Cafe put up a "closed for renovations" sign. Sadly, in restaurant-speak, that means closed, period. The disconnected phone line and a chat with a local restaurateur later confirmed my fears.

I've yet to find a place that can replicate the quality of bagel produced by the New Town Cafe. No one else seems to get the right mix of the slightly crispy outside with the doughy, chewy inside.

I'm quite the bagel traditionalist. I don't want an everything bagel. Skip the toasting and the cream cheese. Just give me a good hard plain bagel that I can gnaw on like a chew toy and I'm a happy girl.

As a jew, I was born to eat bagels. Back when I was in law school I would stop at the old Joan & Gary's in Pikesville. The man behind the counter always winked at me and tossed an extra chocolate chip bagel in the bag free-of-charge. Life was good.

For the past several years, just about every weekend morning started with Rich and me stopping off at the bagel shop for an eggwich with cheese or some other variation. I'll admit that the speed and accuracy of my order certainly declined when the place changed hands a few years back, but I'd much rather have a slow bagel than no bagel at all.

Now I'm forced to search for other suppliers. Like any good addict, I'll go where I need to go to get my fix, even if I can't get exactly what I want. The long line at the drive-through at the local Dunkin Donuts shows the utter despair my community is facing. A Dunkin Donut bagel can barely be considered a bagel at all. It's so gooey and mushy that you might as well go for the jelly-filled donut instead.

I used to laugh at the people who went up to New York to bring back a bunch of their favorite bagels. After all, I could get really good New York style bagels in walking distance from my house. But now I understand their plight.

I've tried to find a satisfactory substitute but I'm not quite there. The Bagel Bin up in Reisterstown is okay, but the bagels are too small and the shop definitely suffers from its change in ownership. Joan & Gary packed up and sailed off to the Virgin Islands. I hear good things about Goldberg's in Pikesville, but I'd rather choke down a frozen Lender's than attempt to park there.

I do enjoy the occasional trip Habib's Kabobs and Bagels in Eldersburg, if for nothing else than the name. Still, it's not the most convenient location for me so I can't make it a daily part of my routine.

Nothing matches the quality and convenience of my good old familiar bagel shop. I can only hope that some smart entrepreneur sees the void left in the community and picks up where New Town Cafe left off. I would be ever so thankful.

I'm just a girl who can't say no

If life really is what happens while you're making other plans, I must have one heck of a life. Because let me just tell you -- all I've been doing lately is scheduling more and more things.

My newest toy, my Palm Z22, is partly to blame. In the two months that I've had it, I've managed to over schedule my life beyond belief.

Of course this whole jam-packed life is hardly a new thing. It wasn't any better when I was a low-tech Day-Timer devotee.

There are two ways to look at this. You could say there's just so much I want to do in life. More accurately, though, I'd have to admit that I'm an obsessive person who has some sort of irrational need to be in on everything.

I blame my parents for doing this to me. My mom always had to be the class parent on president of the PTA. My dad always had to coach every softball and soccer team or be the president of the community association. I guess I was pretty much destined to be like this.

They're the reason I volunteered to co-chair the 2008 Relay For Life of Northwest Baltimore County, why I'm on the board of my homeowners association, and why I decided to serve as an election judge again. Likewise, they're why I intend to help out with the new neighborhood citizens on patrol and why I'm also obsessed with doing a good job at work.

I always have to have a trip or vacation scheduled. I always need to plan out the perfect birthday present for my husband. I'm not capable of just sitting back and enjoying life.

Genetics have forced me to do all of this, even though it means stressing myself out in the process. I'm simply incapable of saying no to things and I still want to do more.

So thanks, Mom and Dad. I'll remember to think about you two at some point while I lay awake all night worrying about all of the things I have to get done.

The restaurant with A.D.D.

Food is an instrumental part of any good vacation. So it sure was a good thing we managed to squeeze in a few really good meals after the, um, interesting dining experience we had our first night in Vegas.

A few days before our trip, Linda Lou, Rich's host over at Harrah's called to ask if there was any way we would be willing to go to an entirely comped dinner over at Cafe Martorano, the newest Italian restaurant at the Rio Hotel and Casino. She'd even sent a limo for us. Somehow we mustered up enough strength to oblige.

Of course I'm still not entirely sure what I make of the restaurant itself nor its proprietor, wannabe celebrity chef and soon-to-be reality TV show star Steve Martorano. The food was good enough but I could have done without the, ahem, attitude and atmosphere.

It was as if the restaurant was in severe need of some Ritalin. The decor and music literally changed every few minutes. You'd go from a disco ball and Sinatra music to strobe lights and Baby Got Back, all before you had a chance to scarf down the $1200-a-block cheese.

Ah, the insanely expensive cheese. This is where the attitude came in. Our waiter took great delight in telling us how much money Martorano spends on his ingredients and how that made the food so good. As I said before, the food was fine -- I particularly enjoyed the macaroni -- but if the food is really that good, I don't need my greasy waiter continuously bragging about it throughout the meal. Good food should speak for itself. Besides, by the third or fourth time that the waiter barked "Gimme your plate" I knew we'd lost a bit of the magic.

I'm also not too impressed with some of the restaurant's policies. For one, there's a strict no changes and no substitutions policy. Chef Martorano says he makes his food one way and one way only. Now I'm a very picky eater and we dine out practically everyday. I honestly can't remember the last time I ordered something without adding, subtracting, or substituting something. If I'm paying for something, it's going to be what I want. (Of course we weren't paying for anything that evening so I had to suck it up.) Somehow I managed to survive this particular meal but only because they basically brought us everything on the menu to sample so I could pick and choose what I wanted.

The other quirky rule is that you can't have a cocktail with dinner. Apparently Martorano believes a drink would distract from the taste of his food. We learned this the hard way when the drink Rich had just gotten at the bar was quickly abducted from the table. Sadly, the drink may have been the tastiest thing that night.

The appetizers included Martorano's homemade meatballs, shrimp scampi bread, and an eggplant stack made up of breaded eggplant, fresh mozzarella and other things I've only heard of on the Food Network. The meatballs were okay but nowhere near as good as the ones my dad makes. I'm generally not a fan of shrimp but I did enjoy the shrimp scampi bread. The eggplant stack was okay too, but mostly because of the cheese.

For our entree, we sampled the chicken cutlet downtown, some kind of sea bass (I passed on this) and the specialty macaroni. I enjoyed the chicken but it was nothing special. I'm also not clear on what makes the specialty macaroni so special. They could have substituted Kraft dinner and I wouldn't have known any better.

I lost track of how many desserts there were but I do remember a very good white cupcake topped in chocolate and some kind of mind-blowing cake. I was so stuffed that I passed on the cannoli and ice cream. For some reason, the waiter kept bragging about how the ice cream was Haagen-Dazs and encouraging us to try it. They must have some sort of deal with them.

The highlight of the evening wasn't the meal but rather a nice perk the casino threw in for us after dinner. They gave us $300 in promotional chips to play. Not being regular table game players, we headed straight for the roulette table where we were lucky enough to parlay the $300 in promotional chips into $300 in actual money.

While it may not sound that way, I actually really enjoyed the evening. A free limo, dinner, drinks, and $300? I could learn to live like this.

Another anniversary in Vegas

What could possibly top a trip to Vegas for our second wedding anniversary? How about another trip to Vegas for our third anniversary, this time comping the hotel stay, all our food, and throwing in free airfare?

Yeah, that'll do it.

This may have been a return trip to Las Vegas for us but we still had a lot of firsts to enjoy there.

It was our first time staying at Caesar's Palace, our first time in Downtown Vegas, our first trip to the Hoover Dam and the first time we saw a Cirque du Soleil show.

It was also the first time I insisted on switching hotel rooms.

In my defense, I was hardly being unreasonable. The first room they gave us didn't have a bathroom door. Now you can call me old fashioned if you like but I've always subscribed to the belief that what happens in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom.

(This would probably be a good time to mention a disturbing trend I've noticed with regard to the bathrooms in hotel rooms lately -- the door is becoming less and less present. We stayed in a beautiful room at Bally's Atlantic City a few weeks back but the bathroom had a swinging salon-style door. Even the room we switched to had just a partly frosted glass door. Am I wrong to expect a little toilet privacy nowadays?)

I should also add that the second room they gave us was much nicer and featured a large whirlpool tub next the bed. It also had a slightly less-than-classy mirror above the bed but the hotel tower was built in the 80s so I'll forgive that along with the popcorn ceiling.

But this trip was about so much more than just our hotel room. It was also about my life-long dream to visit the Hoover Dam and recite the same lines as spoken in such venerable movies as Vegas Vacation and Beavis & Butthead Do America. I can't even begin to explain how big a thrill it was to utter the words "Uh, is this a God damn?" and "Damn. Heh heh. I'll be damned," a la Beavis. I wish I was joking.

Seriously though, the Hoover Dam was more impressive than I imagined. Aside from the fact that the hydro-electricity it produces only came as an added bonus and wasn't part of the original plan, I'm absolutely floored by the thought that a government project could finish two years before expected and at no cost to the American taxpayer. Ah, the Depression era. Good times.

Anyway, now that we've completed two full Vegas trips, I still feel like we've only scratched the surface. There's so much more to see, do, and eat.

And speaking of eating, stay tuned for my next post where I'll describe a somewhat unusual evening at what is meant to be a new Vegas hotspot.

My Purple Evening

The Baltimore Ravens are having a contest to find the team's biggest fan. I'm pretty sure I'm not it.

My wardrobe lacks anything resembling a football jersey. I don't have the energy to tailgate. And, while I do love watching the Ravens play from the temperature-controlled, soft couched, no-line-for-a-dirty-restroom comfort of my home, I'm hardly a crazed superfan.

I did, however, have an awesome time at A Purple Evening, an event held for the female fans of the Ravens. After all, we girls do like playing dress-up and it's not everyday that we get to dress up as a team mascot. (And yes, that's me dressed as Poe in the picture above.)

Joining me for the evening were Kristen and Michele -- two wonderful ladies who thankfully agree with me that the pink-colored jerseys for women are ridiculous. Have we really gotten to the point where purple is no longer feminine enough?

Anyway, the ladies' night gave us a chance to try out a few things we otherwise would never have tried. We got to go down on the field at M&T Bank Stadium for a chance at kicking a field goal, explored the Ravens' locker room, and even had the opportunity to partake in the ritziness that is the club level.

We've already decided to attend the event next year. When we do, we'll have a much more organized game plan. I, for one, will dress more appropriately for the evening and hope to be clad in a Matt Stover jersey. We will also arrive sooner in order to sign up for some of the on-field fun.

On the Ravens' end of things we're hoping for a slightly more organized event where the fact that you have to sign up in advance for the clinics is better publicized. (Then again, I was also hoping for a better outing in Sunday's game against the Browns but I guess we can't always get what we want.)

Oh, and we're also hoping the team will make those cute Purple for Women t-shirts available, even though the logo looks like a deodorant ad.

In the meantime, we'll get to giggle over the pictures from this year. I'm particularly amused that the NFL feels the need to post its rule against gambling on games right in the middle of the team locker room. Then again, considering the arrest records of our players, maybe they know what they're doing.

Where the wild things used to be

I didn't want to do this. I really didn't want this to be my fourth consecutive blog entry focusing on animals.

But, this weekend marked the five-year anniversary of my first date with my husband -- a date which took place at the zoo -- which we lovingly recreated with a return visit. In other words, how could I not write about it?

(Besides, we had some awesome Italian ice while we were there and that alone would have warranted a zoo-related posting.)

Okay, so the zoo in Baltimore has always been a bit underwhelming. San Diego it's not. The reptile house is closed (which, incidentally, doesn't bother me a bit.) The flamingos have relocated. You have to go to D.C. if you want to see a panda bear. The elephants only narrowly escaped the axe a few years back. The monkeys rarely throw feces anymore.

It's a sad state of affairs. They've removed so many exhibits that you now have to take a tram ride from the front entrance to where you can actually find an animal. They take your picture at the beginning and then let you pick which animal background you want with it because you certainly aren't going to find anything nearly that exotic at this zoo.

But there are still some cute critters worth seeing at our zoo and we even went the whole visit without Rich shaking his keys at any of the animals. The penguins are pretty adorable. I adore Magnet, the polar bear who swims laps like an old guy at the YMCA. The giraffes were pretty neat too. Rich somehow instigated a fight between two of them. (Lifetime ban, here I come.)

We completed our day with dinner at HOPS, which is where we dined on our first date. We didn't have Jonathan Ogden sitting in the next booth over this time around, but other than that, it was the perfect way to celebrate the five-year anniversary of the last time I let Rich finish a sentence.

Wet dogs = cute pictures

With Buddy still recovering from his flesh-eating virus and Snoopy with a double ear infection, I had to go dog-less to this year's Doggie Paddle.

As I've detailed in the past, the Doggie Paddle is the annual puppy pool party held to benefit the Baltimore County Humane Society. It's heaven for dog lovers like myself.

My darling-yet-allergic husband agreed to accompany me so I didn't have to go stag. Still, it's somewhat awkward to attend a canine function when you're sans dog. I felt like one of those creepy child predators who goes to the playground to look at the little kids. Here, I was just some crazy dog-less woman ogling the cute, wet puppy dogs.

This year marks my third year of attendance at the Doggie Paddle and I'm starting to notice some themes emerging. In some ways, this doggy gathering is not unlike high school with its cliques.

First you have the labs, doodles, weinmariners, and other larger dogs. They're the jocks of the crowd. They like attention and will do whatever they have to do to get it, especially if that means shaking their wetness all over you, taking a dump in the pool, or humping anything that moves. Always up for a game, it's rare to find one of these guys without a Frisbee or tennis ball around.

Next you have the golden retrievers who are clearly the coolest kids in town. They stick together and don't really associate much with the other dogs. They look good, they're athletic, and they know it. They're the first ones in the pool and the last ones out. It's not easy to break into this group. Hell, they're even blonde.

The smaller dogs like the pugs and poodles are the freshmen of the crowd. Some are more outgoing than others, but most look to the bigger dogs for their cues. They're just testing the waters, literally, and not so sure they're ready for the big pool. Some of them have realized they they can jump right in and play with the big boys while others remain scared that they'll sink, not swim.

No matter what group the dogs fall into, they're completely adorable. I relish this event every year and have yet to find a better stress reliever anywhere. So here, for your viewing enjoyment, please check out the bathing beauties of 2007, otherwise known as wet, smelly dogs.

Maryland's 11 best days of summer

I'm such a sucker for the state fair. I love the food, I love the baby animals, and I especially love the chance to step right up, spin a wheel, and win a free pencil. It's like trick-or-treating for adults.

But what I really love is the fact that the fair doesn't change from year to year. It's the same exact tacky end-of-summer tradition I enjoyed as a kid.

The same attractions are always in the same place. The world's smallest woman is right across from the jacuzzi sales people. The bored state employees sit in the exhibition hall, fingers crossed and hoping that an altercation will break out over at the Jews for Jesus booth.

And in a cruel yet natural circle of life kinda way, the fresh pit beef is always right across from the cow palace.

Ah, the food. I mustn't leave out all of that yummy, patently unhealthy but oh-so-aromatic fair food. First you have your choice of meat, meat, and more meat. Add to that your choice of any deep fried anything on a stick and it's a veritable choose-your-own-heart-attack. Remember: Fudge isn't truly decadent until it's been deep fried.

Now this year I managed to experience a part of the fair I've never seen before -- the 4H livestock auction. I like my meat as much as the next non-vegetarian, but the auction was a bit more in-your-face than I would have liked. I can honestly say it's the first auction I've been to where they promise to "process" your purchase before delivery. Poor little rabbits.

But hey, Of course I'd be lying if I said I didn't love seeing all of the animals, even if I do have to ponder their demise. One of my favorite parts of the fair has to be the animal birthing area. I wasn't lucky enough to witness any of the little guys being born this year but I did catch a few calves and piglets who were born within the last day.

(Fun fact: Piglets grow at a rate of two lbs. per day. This is the same rate of growth I experience in the month of December.)

The end of the fair is always bittersweet. As a huge fan of fall, I'm glad to see summer fade away. But I will miss my chocolate covered frozen strawberries on a stick. You just can't find those at the Apple Butter Festival.

"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.