Your Crab Cake

Well, I am here. I will say no more on the subject other than to report that I have located the nearest liquor store (closed on Sundays in Maryland, fyi) and have purchased wine in a box. That should get me through the rough transition of, you know, moving here. At least until this Saturday when I must stock up because who wants to be boozeless on the Sabbath? Not I. Actually, that whole no liquor on Sunday business reminds me a little of Kansas, until you know, they rejected the notion of blue laws as ridiculous and outdated. I shall now attempt to end what could become something annoying which is: comparison shopping by state. I am now officially resolving never to say things like "Well, back where I came from, you could buy Diet Pepsi by the case for $5, here's it's sold only in 12 packs for the same damn price!" The price of beef reamins unchanged from my last visit and remarkably high. Maybe it's time for me to stop eating things with faces. Excluding of course, girls and such.

I am now proclaiming this blog free of nostalgic reminiscences of the Wild West Days and instead focus on the good things about The Crab. I will not be a bitter relocated malcontent. I will not be a whiny Midwestern transplant to the heartless cruelties that face me on the east coast. I vow to find the good in this state. Here is the first of what I am sure will be many many: The nice suburban mom in Safeway who informed me that Kelly's Liquors is just down the road about two miles and that if you really need booze on Sundays, you can get it as packaged carrout from restaurants (though it will be 3X as expensive). So thank you, Mrs. Suburban Maryland Mom. You have restored my faith that my time here will be full of pleasantries and bountifully helpful individuals.