cheap eats- thirsty piggin it.

not to be confused with “porky piggin it”, which is the condition of wearing a shirt, but no pants or underwear (a la porky pig).

i love a hot dog. red hot dogs. foot long hot dogs. 7-11 roller hot dogs… in my meat eating days, i would shovel down those natural casing lovelies (THE SNAP!) like they were going out of style. and then i became a vegetarian, and my hot dog prospects became instantly very very grim. tofu pups? seriously?

over time, i have managed to find some work arounds. i’m a big fan of the yves  veggie dogs, i think they have the most realistic hot dog flava available in the mass consumer fake meat marketplace (especially when buried under sauerkraut, onions, and spicy mustard). they’re even better if you grill them in a pan with butter (sorry vegans!).  as it turns out, they are slightly less good if you roast them over a fire.  surprise! it’s blister covered corpse dogs!

although the worst thing about it is that i can’t just stroll through tommy’s park and grab a red snapper from mark’s on a summer afternoon… or any one of portland’s many varied and awesome hot dog stands. it sucks. so when linda bean’s famous bullshit chowder something something shut down, and the thirsty pig moved in (and actually carried a veggie dog), i was pretty fucking excited.

long weekend pickthrough- FULL REBOOT edition.

you know when you have a crappy old computer, and if you keep it on without restarting it for a while, it starts to run slower and slower and slower and fills you with increasingly more and more and more rage? well, that’s where i was last week. trying to remain functional without shutting off and getting less and less effective with every passing day. like that shitty gateway laptop your grandma gave you for college graduation.

this week, i decided it was finally time to reboot. i unapologetically shut my laptop on tuesday evening, and didn’t open it up again until today. i slept. i ate. i read! i even went to yoga like a fully functional human being. it was awesome. it’s not that i didn’t do anything while i was out, i just didn’t put any pressure on myself to do anything about it other than to maintain a state of general alive-ness.  here’s what you missed:

flea market feature- montsweag adventure!

as i mentioned yesterday (as i ever so classily begged for you to enter my contest), this weekend i took the first trip of the season to my favorite seasonal flea market in maine. i’ve been compiling and manicuring my list of best maine flea markets since last fall, but i thought it might be worthwhile to do a little profile of some of the superstars as i thrift my way through the summer months.

the montsweag flea market, located on a fairly low-key stretch of route one in woolwich (in between bath and wiscasset), opens on mother’s day weekend (weather permitting), and shuts back down “when the tourists stop coming”. it’s literally nothing more than a vacant lot filled with aging plywood tables and a few summer camp cabin-like shanties, but for some reason, this is where all the A+ people come to set up shop. no, it’s not all faberge eggs and first editions, it’s still a lot of crazy crap just like other flea markets… but it’s the BEST crazy crap in town. the judgment criteria:

1. new stuff is kept to a minimum. (i’m talking about you cascade) how horribly disappointing is it to go to what you think is a cool flea market, only to be assaulted by dollar store tchotchkes and ultra-trashy OOB-worthy t-shirts (ex: “if i wanted to hear what you had to say, i’d take my cock out of your mouth” heartwarming!). nobody wants this shit, sand it’s always uncomfortable to walk by your table, so please cut it out! (montsweag only had one table of this variety- dragon statuettes i think).

2. there’s lots of old stuff. even when it’s not worth anything, old stuff feels sexy, mysterious, exciting. from antique to retro, i wanna dive into boxes of musty old socially irrelevant books, try on enormous vintage cocktail rings, smell the mothballs of long forgotten fabric stashes, and fiddle with exotic examples of outmoded technology. going to the flea market should be like going on an archeological dig. i want to rifle through crumbling cardboard bins of relics feeling like every single thing is going to make me an ebay millionaire.

3. there’s lots of weird stuff. i want to see nightmare inducing creepy old toys, stacks of water damaged low-rent retro porn magazines, and at least a 10% saturation of stuff that elicits the comment “what the fuck is this?”. even if you come home with nothing, your day will never feel wasted if you spent the majority of your time pointing out the hilarity & terror to your fellow flea-marketers (also, this this a great place to work on your prop comedy).

4. prices are reasonable & they’re willing/ready to haggle. there’s a ton of antique stores and flea markets that easily meet the above criteria for awesome stuff, but cruelly price it just out of reach. what’s exciting about a box or a field full of incredible stuff that you want but can’t afford? why not just go browse the cartier? i bet they don’t have a port-a-potty (a minimal downside, but there isn’t a hook on the door and i was forced to wear my purse around my neck like a feedbag to avoid contamination).

if i was going to get in the habit of giving out stars, montsweag would easily gets a 4.5 out of 5. it meets all of the above critera with gusto, and save for the porta-john issues and the dragon statuettes, from vintage toys to scary dolls, they know what i like. plus, if you do so much as breathe near an item- someone will offer you a deal. bring cash (small bills), go early (the dealers get there at the crack of dawn), and prepare to be surprised (make sure you have room in your trunk). the boyfriend offered to buy 3 vintage cameras from a dealer for $15, and ended up with a rubbermaid tote full for $20. you can check out the rest of my montsweag exploration on flickr, or you can get your ass to wiscasset and have your own adventure. this weekend is supposed to be sunny and 70s, where do i go next?