Please excuse me, I’m From Away.

HEYYA!! Sorry it’s been so long since my last post.  This whole *BAKING UP A BUSINESS* thing is very time intensive.  More on that later/BUT for now The Cart & I just wanted to thank you for your support.  Great suggestions, everyone!  I have designed a t shirt for our future excursions which I think will simplify matters greatly.


THANKS>!!ME too.  Hard to believe I’ve been *From Away* for SEVEN WHOLE WEEKS NOW!

What do you mean, what do I mean? Aren’t you LISTENING?  I’ve been From Away for 7 weeks.  OH! No.. I don’t mean I’ve been AWAY FROM Philly all this time, though you could read it that way too.  No.  What I really mean is since moving to Maine I’ve joined a secret heretofore unknown and supremely mysterious group which is in fact growing ever larger even as I write this sentence.  In fact — you are very likely a part of it — and you may not even KNOW! NO _ I’m not talking about LOST! BUT SPEAKING OF WHICH _did you watch weds night?  I KNOW! I was like GO JOHN! WAY to kick that stupid bug-eyed benjamin linus in the balls. MAN I HATE HIM.  BUT – aanyway – From Away is a folksy term used by Mainers to identify OUTSIDERS.  It’s a polite way of acknowledging crazy persons without having to point and make little nutball circles next to one’s head. Saying someone is FROM AWAY is akin to calling them a dingus w/out saying so.  It’s simply understood.

Mainers are very proud of their heritage.  If you were born in Maine, you are and will always be a Mainer (Maine-uh).  Everyone else is From Away.  SO that pretty much includes us all – or 99.9999999852% of the world. Having “From Away” to bandy about – well, it makes it easy for Mainers to scoff at, scorn or ridicule those not from Maine (meaning US), without alerting us to this fact.  I also believe, though I cannot be certain, that this whole “From Away” thing was intended to establish Maine superiority and/or differentiate between homegrown and non-native whackadoo.  A little like the Nazis, but extremely reserved and without death camps.

WELL. LET ME JUST SAY./ All of us were born somewhere.  I, for one, was born in a hospital.  But not everyone has that luxury.  Some people were born in Maine.  But I do not fault them for that.  No.  That my friends would be wrong.  Making fun of someone, rolling your eyes behind their back or assuming they’ll vote A CERTAIN WAY because of where they were born is not right.  That is just plain PLACIST.

And in this day and age, to have to play the PLACE card – well…  I don’t have to roll my eyes b/c you KNOW I AM ANYWAY.  That is stooping pretty darn low.  NOT as low as that guy hawking tee shirts w/ Calvin peeing on that other guy, but STILL.  Just b/c I am FROM AWAY does not mean I don’t enjoy a lobstah roll as much as the next guy.  [Though, between you & me, I’d save your $10.] And DON’T get me started on the whole top-split New England frank roll vs. the “Other part of the country” side-split hot dog bun… sheesh.


I love this place. Why are there so many chiropractors?

YES!!!!!! FINALLY! After my prolonged & totally unacceptable ABSENCE, I am BACK!!!

AND It’s official!!  My family & I are now MAINERS**.

**NOTE: We really are transplanted Philadelphians now living in the guise of MAINERS, but I’m giving it to us anyway.

SO HOW’S THINGSS??!  I KNOW.  It HAS BEEN A LONG TIME< HASN’T IT??  OOoh, I am sorry to hear that.  How awful.  My next-door neighbor’s dad got laid off too, but then they called him up a week later and offered him another job.  Yeah what a crap fest.  Good thing he decided not to jump. Huh?  ME??  Ohh. well you know how it’s been total craziness the past few months.  The whole “packing up the house and moving to a 2 bedroom apartment in a completely new city” thing.

I guess it’s to be expected, but this move is taking a little getting used to.  You can take the girl outta Philly, but you can’t take the Philly outta the girl. Right?  RIGHT. SO. The first night we arrived.  We’re outside unloading the U-Haul.  It’s really dark out – we didn’t get here until after 7 – so we’re unloading, and a car sloooowwwwly drives by.  Then another.  And of course we’re all thinking DAMN! They’re totally casing the joint – just waiting for us to be inside so they can help themselves to our stuff.  But then, another car drives by… slowly.. slowing.. to a virtual stop.  The driver looks at us.. we look at her.. and.. and.. then she smiles and WAVES!  Because people here aren’t thieves. They’re just NICE.

SO>As you can imagine. There’s a whole mental adjustment taking place. No one is trying to cart off our belongings.  No one is skulking in the bushes waiting to stick me up or show me his “thing.”  This Portland.  It’s a whole new world!  And, lest I forget to mention, after just one week here in Portland — (hold your breath) — we get OUR MAIL!!!!  Can you believe it?!  I KNOWOOOO.  We’ve only been here a week.  ONE HONKIN WEEK.  And we’re RENTERS!  No matter.  Our friendly mail carrier does her job like a PRO.  We actually had mail WAITING for us when we arrived.


Back in Philly – where we’ve owned a home for ALMOST EIGHT YEARS, we STILL DON’T GET OUR MAIL

PS: Thanks for that awesome card, Curly babe! Love ya! xoxo

BUT BESIDES THE MAIL, there are some other things I’ve noticed about Portland.

Number One: Portland is clean.

As long as you don’t mind cigarette butts and dog shit.  B/c BOY ARE THEY EVERYWHERE.  But other than that. This city is pretty clean, at least in comparison to Philly.  Seriously, the day before we moved, I had to go to Target to pick up a few things.  As I waded through ankle-deep trash in the parking lot, I noted the number of empty garbage cans just begging to be used.  Here in Portland, I can’t find a trash can.  Not even outside people’s homes.  I am convinced everyone here stuffs garbage inside their clothes to keep warm.  And this theory isn’t just crackpot.  NO, it’s backed up by HARD EVIDENCE.  You see, here in Portland you have to pay for special blue *CITY OF PORTLAND* trash bags to put your weekly garbage in for collection.  I KID YOU NOT.  AND. Not only are these designer bags expensive, but they are EXPENSIVE.  $7.50 for FIVE.  F-I-V-E.  YET, you don’t see dingbats dumping their garbage in random lots – or dropping chicken buckets out car windows while waiting for the lights to change.  Nuh-uh.  Garbage in Portland “appears” to be a dirty little secret no one wants to air.  People hide it away until trash day when they are FORCED to put it out on the street – B/C THEY HAVE TO.  THANK GOODNESS for those pretty blue bags.

Number Two: Portland is home to a population of roughly 65,000 – 3,893 of whom are Chiropractors.

On every corner in Philly, there’s either a pizza/take-out beer place or some sort of mini-mart bodega.  Here in Portland there is a chiropractor’s office.  Sometimes two.  On one stretch of Congress Street, I’ve actually counted 3 chiropractors in a row.  With another just a block or two away.  All this adjustment raises several questions.  First.  If you are working as a chiropractor in Portland, how can you possibly be making enough to buy trash bags?  And Two.  What the hell is happening up here that warrants so much manipulation?  I’m hazarding a guess with snow shoveling> but .  BUT?  ANYONE??  Can someone help me out here.  Please>??  I am stumped.