View Across the Patapsco From Middle Branch Park

View Across the Patapsco From Middle Branch ParkFriday’s ride started late, following a long morning of grading and grading and more grading. It’s simultaneously the best and worst part of the job. It’s a chance to settle in with individual students and see what they’re really thinking about, and a reminder that I’ve just got too many students to do that in the way I’d like. But I muscled through a big stack over fancy coffee and pizza, and I was ready to stretch my legs after. I headed down the hill and around the Inner Harbor, a quick stop at the tourist visitor’s center for some cash (I knew I was going to end up at the casino on payday), and checked out the empty spot where the Constellation used to be. A giant ship is suddenly absent, just its high heels left poking out of the harbor. Continue reading

Cinco de Mustache Sign at the Arabella Whole Foods


Yesterday I had the worst headache I can remember having. It was like somebody had a little sledgehammer and had taken up residence in my left temple, thumping away and sending pain down through my neck and shoulder. It finally broke last night, but I still have lingering pain in my neck and shoulder. When I got on the bike and headed to campus this afternoon I could tell it wasn’t a biking injury. It felt good, after a day off, to be back and spinning mindlessly. It didn’t take long to remember that it’s Cinco de Mayo today. Superior Grill was blocking off the street for their party (Dos Equis bottles for $4, fyi) and as I entered campus, I already saw students carrying those foam cups with red straws–tell-tale signs of frosty drinks. I got to my office and settled in with a stack of papers, pen in my right hand, head cocked to the left. Oh, that’s what hurts. 15 to go, and I can give my body a break. I got back on my bike and headed to the grocery store. Apparently I missed the mustache-and-sombrero competition they held earlier in celebration of Cinco de Mayo. Am I the only one who is kinda creeped out by this “holiday” that just seems to traffic in weird racial stereotypes? I was happy to ride home, turn on some baseball, and cook myself up some broccoli and tofu, avoiding the crowds of drunk people. Sometimes I just gotta be me.