I love her. I miss her. But here's what I don't miss.
The Foul Towel: Ashley loves her lotions, potions, and body washes. 3-5 can be used in the same shower session (the results of which are the topic of another thing I won't miss). Ashley however is stridently against the clean rinse and wring of her washcloth. The result after a week is a cheesy smell that hits me once the stall heats up and the moisture activates and lifts the scent of her washcloth towards my nostrils. The morning I met this novelty and discovered its source was one where I wondered how long before she found her own place.
Death by moisture layer: As noted above, Ashley loves the potions and lotions and applies all generously throughout her hair and body. She often spends a few moments after her shower combing out her hair soaked in leave-in conditioner. The result of her post shower-in shower grooming is a moisture slick which has bruised my inner thigh and almost daily ended my life in a mangled naked shower tragedy.
The Hair, oh God, the hair: I would entertain a conspiracy theory that she keeps extra hair in a bag and just leaves chunks of it throughout the house. In the kitchen, in the hallway, in Silkwood exposure quantities in the shower, just every damn where.
Judge Judy/Joe Brown/Real Housewives of Anywhere at all: RIP. Will not miss coming home to you blaring out of the TV speakers while Ashley reclined outstretched on the sofa.
Sound Machine: I sleep like death once I am asleep but it must be quiet and I absolutely can not do snoring which Ashley has been known to do from time to time when she fall behind on her allergy meds. Finally bought a sound masking machine so I could fall asleep without listening to her yawn and move around in her floor covers:
The Room: Before and after pictures coming as this can not be adequately captured in words.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
How to run your shit
Of course I have an opinion on this. Of course. But I only have an opinion when I observe someone not running their shit and I see them suffer as a result. As a general rule, I do not ask my bosses for anything. Nothing. I tell them. I'm not disrespectful, and I'm not even terribly strident. I try to be the kind of employee I want to supervise. I handle my shit, I manage my time, and I believe they care more about the results than how I get there. Not in an unethical way but in a pragmatic 'hundred ways to skin a cat, pick one' way. If they wanted to tell me step by step how to do my job, and there are some who do, they most certainly will. Most however, work like most things in the universe do and they chose the path of least resistance; they have shit to do too so it would be most helpful if you just do yours without tying them up into how the hot dog is made. If there is a question, it is framed as 'here's what I plan to do, how's that sound' instead of 'what should I do.' I may be wrong but it's easier to edit my idea than it is to think for me.
It is burdensome to supervise people who need direction, advice, or a sounding board for everything; people who have little sense of perspective for when something is truly important and merits supervisory attention. They think everything that bears their watermark has to perfect. That sense of integrity and attention to detail is just the person you want manning our nuclear arsenal but not the person you want putting together the monthly birthday celebration. If that type of person believes the birthday celebration is important to anyone, it will be the best damn birthday celebration their attention to the other minutiae of life allows. It will be better than anyone else is likely to pull off but still not as good as they would have liked and thus brings them little joy. It is a stupid way to live. I live stupidly in many other ways so I consider myself an authority on stupid living and feel I can say that.
My replacement seems to be this kind, the kind that outsources their initiative, distracted by what everyone else thinks instead of wanting to own her success and failure as something of her own invention. She has pinged me on so many questions of zero significance or relevance that I'm irritated in advance of even meeting her. I already don't have confidence in her ability to communicate or in her ability to triage and figure out what is going to hit the cutting room floor because it is not possible to do everything. I feel she will consult her boss for everything from what time she should go to lunch to what the policy is on leaving 15 minutes early. And here's the thing, power, even insignificant power of the kind she is yielding to her management will never be refused. If you give your boss the option of having a registered opinion on when you take lunch, they are going to feel entitled to one. But here's the rub, it will only apply to you. And eventually you will resent it because one day you will break set with his expectation and he will give you feedback that seems unfair in light of how no one else seems to be held to taking lunch at his convenience. But there are no take backs. You gave them purview over that area of your life and now they feel it is owed to them. Further, because you asked them to register an opinion on something they would not ordinarily care that much about, you just took a hit on judgement too because you seek direction others don't.
I really love to be value added, to help people, to make my work place better. I will not however, be asking my boss to run my life, personally or professionally or imply I seek that kind of direction from them. I know I'm on trial with every new person I work for and it is new boss 101 to have a guard up and project a 'prove yourself to me' vibe. I have the same guard up and the pros and cons column is being worked fiercely during every interaction. I'm I'm lucky, the work eventually bears me out and they respect me and trust my judgement and ability to handle myself. Some iteration of "self-managing" or "works well with little or no oversight", has been written on more of my evals than probably any other phrase. If more bosses cleanly laid out their expectations there would probably be less wringing of hands from the approval seeking type (not that we don't all need or want approval). But most bosses don't. That sucks but I prefer the anxiety of setting my own professional boundaries and risking correction over the anxiety of 'mother may I.'
And that's how you run your shit.
It is burdensome to supervise people who need direction, advice, or a sounding board for everything; people who have little sense of perspective for when something is truly important and merits supervisory attention. They think everything that bears their watermark has to perfect. That sense of integrity and attention to detail is just the person you want manning our nuclear arsenal but not the person you want putting together the monthly birthday celebration. If that type of person believes the birthday celebration is important to anyone, it will be the best damn birthday celebration their attention to the other minutiae of life allows. It will be better than anyone else is likely to pull off but still not as good as they would have liked and thus brings them little joy. It is a stupid way to live. I live stupidly in many other ways so I consider myself an authority on stupid living and feel I can say that.
My replacement seems to be this kind, the kind that outsources their initiative, distracted by what everyone else thinks instead of wanting to own her success and failure as something of her own invention. She has pinged me on so many questions of zero significance or relevance that I'm irritated in advance of even meeting her. I already don't have confidence in her ability to communicate or in her ability to triage and figure out what is going to hit the cutting room floor because it is not possible to do everything. I feel she will consult her boss for everything from what time she should go to lunch to what the policy is on leaving 15 minutes early. And here's the thing, power, even insignificant power of the kind she is yielding to her management will never be refused. If you give your boss the option of having a registered opinion on when you take lunch, they are going to feel entitled to one. But here's the rub, it will only apply to you. And eventually you will resent it because one day you will break set with his expectation and he will give you feedback that seems unfair in light of how no one else seems to be held to taking lunch at his convenience. But there are no take backs. You gave them purview over that area of your life and now they feel it is owed to them. Further, because you asked them to register an opinion on something they would not ordinarily care that much about, you just took a hit on judgement too because you seek direction others don't.
I really love to be value added, to help people, to make my work place better. I will not however, be asking my boss to run my life, personally or professionally or imply I seek that kind of direction from them. I know I'm on trial with every new person I work for and it is new boss 101 to have a guard up and project a 'prove yourself to me' vibe. I have the same guard up and the pros and cons column is being worked fiercely during every interaction. I'm I'm lucky, the work eventually bears me out and they respect me and trust my judgement and ability to handle myself. Some iteration of "self-managing" or "works well with little or no oversight", has been written on more of my evals than probably any other phrase. If more bosses cleanly laid out their expectations there would probably be less wringing of hands from the approval seeking type (not that we don't all need or want approval). But most bosses don't. That sucks but I prefer the anxiety of setting my own professional boundaries and risking correction over the anxiety of 'mother may I.'
And that's how you run your shit.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Flow
Here's how I flow; work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work-maladaptive, self-destructive, self-defeating procrastination-work, work, work, work, work, work work, work (much of which could have been less stressful if not for that maladaptive middle piece). I'm in the middle right now following a day of fairly productive list checking. I'm staying up too late and I'm not exercising. So I'm fat and restless. It's awesome. Also, I'm tired all the time because I go to bed late so at both ends of my day, beginning with the achy tired, and ending with the bleary tired, the last place I want to be is the gym. If I would take more than a day here or there to recharge, I'm sure I could probably do better but I'm not seeing that space right now. Everything is up in the air. There are decisions to be made that will settle a lot of these variables but I'm in that space where everything seems like it should be doable if everything works out perfectly. Which makes it seem like it should be done, which stresses me out. I should be able to find a house, get completely organized taking only the things I actually need and use, see everyone who wants to take me to lunch/coffee/dinner before I leave (which by the way is starting to irritate me), go to the gym regularly, keep the house spotless for the 24 hour notice showing, do my work with accuracy and dedication, and remain in a good mood throughout.
Going back to the obligatory luncheon/coffee bullshit, I grieve it terribly. Aside from old boss (OB) and a lady I've already gone to dinner with, my relationships at work don't rise to the level of anyone I'm really going to miss or who is going to miss me so much so that a formal living wake is required. So that means it is insincere which puts me in a foul mood and biting my tongue bloody not to call it what it is and send everyone back to their desks grumbling about what an ungrateful a-hole I am. The other thing that irritates me from neighbor to co-worker is the 'we've got to do something before you leave' empty remark. First of all, I don't need another damn thing to do. Let's say goodbye today because I'm not making any holes in my schedule to do something that is already above and beyond the actual level of our relationship. And those people who treat my departure like a countdown that they want to rush at the end to take me out for drink or something else I can do without them might be the most irritating of all. I have actual friends to make time for, people who want to talk to me and see me even when I'm not leaving town. Those are the people I make time for and try to figure out how/when to see. Nothing at all against what we are to each other, it's been lovely. This is just not the time to stretch that so you can interview me about moving, how I'm doing, and my future plans while "sending me off"; I've already covered that ground with the people who actually care. We both know it is unlikely you'll visit, and even more sure I won't be visiting so maybe we just wish each other well now and go back to how it normally is with you and I both getting along in life without thinking much of the other at all. I'll keep you posted on the highlights via Facebook or something.
Going back to the obligatory luncheon/coffee bullshit, I grieve it terribly. Aside from old boss (OB) and a lady I've already gone to dinner with, my relationships at work don't rise to the level of anyone I'm really going to miss or who is going to miss me so much so that a formal living wake is required. So that means it is insincere which puts me in a foul mood and biting my tongue bloody not to call it what it is and send everyone back to their desks grumbling about what an ungrateful a-hole I am. The other thing that irritates me from neighbor to co-worker is the 'we've got to do something before you leave' empty remark. First of all, I don't need another damn thing to do. Let's say goodbye today because I'm not making any holes in my schedule to do something that is already above and beyond the actual level of our relationship. And those people who treat my departure like a countdown that they want to rush at the end to take me out for drink or something else I can do without them might be the most irritating of all. I have actual friends to make time for, people who want to talk to me and see me even when I'm not leaving town. Those are the people I make time for and try to figure out how/when to see. Nothing at all against what we are to each other, it's been lovely. This is just not the time to stretch that so you can interview me about moving, how I'm doing, and my future plans while "sending me off"; I've already covered that ground with the people who actually care. We both know it is unlikely you'll visit, and even more sure I won't be visiting so maybe we just wish each other well now and go back to how it normally is with you and I both getting along in life without thinking much of the other at all. I'll keep you posted on the highlights via Facebook or something.
A busy time for parents
Ashley spent her first night in her new place last night. Wonderful to have a space of my own back, sad to think of her alone and a little frightened with what she's bit off; it's the Ashley show now. Sibling parenting is challenging. :-)
More to come...just running and gunning right now.
More to come...just running and gunning right now.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Look at all the pretty colors
Not sure how or when it happened but I have become a purse girl. Behold:
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Arg
I fucking hate tiny dogs. Just because your outside shitting barking cat weighs 10 pounds doesn't mean you don't have to train it or keep it under control on a leash. I am 2 Aleve into what promises to be a fun ride of discomfort after wiping out beautifully on the street trying to keep my dog from murdering a punk ass little dog that was not under control by the idiot walking them.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Warping the halo
Oh how it sucks to be left behind. It's like selling your house but hanging around to watch folks throw out your shit and comment on the handyman things you didn't get done.
Some other things a coat of paint won't do (vignettes from apartment hunting in the ghetto)
Remove mouse droppings from your freshly painted would-be apartment. Also won't remove dismissive landlord comment about 'well look where we are' about the downstairs neighbor's mouse sighting.
Remove ominous smokestacks from foreground of your center city view or make a feral cat colony count as evidence of a pet friendly neighborhood.
Shuffle up the ratio of pit bulls to any other kind of dog.
Remove ominous smokestacks from foreground of your center city view or make a feral cat colony count as evidence of a pet friendly neighborhood.
Shuffle up the ratio of pit bulls to any other kind of dog.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The witching hour
I can't sleep. I'm restless like I remember being as a child. Itchy, too warm, not tired but a tad irritable. Unlike a child, I know I should be sleeping but it won't come. So I'm up and writing because nothing puts me to sleep faster than my own words. Laundry is done for the weekend though not completely folded and put away just yet. Today when it's actually daylight I may fix some clothing too dear to part with and fix a meal that will make me feel less bad for having the remainder of a obscene slice of red velvet cheesecake for dinner. Maybe I'll even prepare some more for this move, the stress of which is probably responsible for this restlessness. Ashley is looking for apartments in earnest now. We went to a horrible place today that was an object lesson in what a fresh coat of paint won't do. It's a place that would worry my mother. Then we went to a place where the saddest woman in Philadelphia sat on her stoop and smoked a cigarette. We brainstormed what manner of circumstance would convey despair that rolled of a person like that. We settled on 'fresh out of crack' but if Ashley, determined always to do the opposite of what makes the most sense has her way, she will be able to report back from her new digs right across the street if our sad woman ever finds happiness. Or crack. I don't think I can handle watching a kid piss away every advantage I worked to give them in life. She's my sister and I sometimes just want to clock her with an anvil (wherever they make those outside of Warner Brother's cartoons).
But in happier news, I am sublimating all the stress I'm not eating or writing on shopping. I started to feel bad tonight about my shopping bug but then reminded myself my version of a shopping spree is buying a new hallway runner and some flip flops at Ross (I totally bought more than that, but it was still at Ross). With the exception of the the excessive amount of purses I've purchased over the last month, everything else has been reasonable and on crazy sale, like 4 dollars for a bracelet sale. And the purses I *just* bought, also on crazy sale.
Every now and then when I'm inclined to be disappointed with how well I'm not holding it all together, I try to give myself some grace. It's been quite a spring. We seem to be so far from where we were it is hard to process that I was preparing myself for my mother to die, the government was being furloughed, I was cleaning my mother up after she used the bathroom and holding a bucket for her to spit in while acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was for me in that moment. That was my normal. Now I call the house and talk to my mom like I wondered if I ever would again. Then the shit baton was passed from family to work, and I had a terrible month at work in June. Really shitty. And work appears to have designs on making July shitty too.
I cracked sometime in June, driving for the nth time towards Washington D.C. and cursing a blue streak over the shitty work situation on the phone with my soul twin. I surprised myself with the words that came out of me. I was done. I was ready to die, I had/have no expectation that life was ever going to be any different than it was now. I will always be without a significant other, I will always grieving the stupid stubbornness of someone in my family (or myself), I will never be 'that girl' for anyone, nothing I ever try to accomplish at work will ever actually happen. I was done. I had seen enough and I wanted to be done. Soul Twin said she had been waiting for me to crack for some time and had not understood how I could just keep going, keep absorbing the little shit storm life had become and be so seemingly okay with it. I might be wrong but I could swear she was even a little delighted she was there when it happened. I was completely over it though. The only thing keeping me from the single car accident that would release me was a sidewalk snacking Labrador who I decided just wouldn't understand and wouldn't be taken care of as well without me. It was weird to hear myself say those things. It was an out of body experience. I wasn't upset or crying, just completely over it. Light a match and walk away over it. I can't make good happen in this world, I don't want to stick around and watch it be bad.
I don't have the time to give that episode the consideration I think I ought to so in the interim, I shall buy purses, write when I can't sleep, and eat red velvet cheesecake for dinner when I need to.
But in happier news, I am sublimating all the stress I'm not eating or writing on shopping. I started to feel bad tonight about my shopping bug but then reminded myself my version of a shopping spree is buying a new hallway runner and some flip flops at Ross (I totally bought more than that, but it was still at Ross). With the exception of the the excessive amount of purses I've purchased over the last month, everything else has been reasonable and on crazy sale, like 4 dollars for a bracelet sale. And the purses I *just* bought, also on crazy sale.
Every now and then when I'm inclined to be disappointed with how well I'm not holding it all together, I try to give myself some grace. It's been quite a spring. We seem to be so far from where we were it is hard to process that I was preparing myself for my mother to die, the government was being furloughed, I was cleaning my mother up after she used the bathroom and holding a bucket for her to spit in while acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was for me in that moment. That was my normal. Now I call the house and talk to my mom like I wondered if I ever would again. Then the shit baton was passed from family to work, and I had a terrible month at work in June. Really shitty. And work appears to have designs on making July shitty too.
I cracked sometime in June, driving for the nth time towards Washington D.C. and cursing a blue streak over the shitty work situation on the phone with my soul twin. I surprised myself with the words that came out of me. I was done. I was ready to die, I had/have no expectation that life was ever going to be any different than it was now. I will always be without a significant other, I will always grieving the stupid stubbornness of someone in my family (or myself), I will never be 'that girl' for anyone, nothing I ever try to accomplish at work will ever actually happen. I was done. I had seen enough and I wanted to be done. Soul Twin said she had been waiting for me to crack for some time and had not understood how I could just keep going, keep absorbing the little shit storm life had become and be so seemingly okay with it. I might be wrong but I could swear she was even a little delighted she was there when it happened. I was completely over it though. The only thing keeping me from the single car accident that would release me was a sidewalk snacking Labrador who I decided just wouldn't understand and wouldn't be taken care of as well without me. It was weird to hear myself say those things. It was an out of body experience. I wasn't upset or crying, just completely over it. Light a match and walk away over it. I can't make good happen in this world, I don't want to stick around and watch it be bad.
I don't have the time to give that episode the consideration I think I ought to so in the interim, I shall buy purses, write when I can't sleep, and eat red velvet cheesecake for dinner when I need to.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Bemoaning the long distance friendship
It's very early on the west coast but I can see my old boss (OB) is up. I want to ping him--and I just did and now I'm horrified because his status went from green to away. It doesn't matter really, if he's not really up then he will ignore me. But it bothers me. It takes a while to get comfortable in a relationship. There is a settling period and in that settling period your relationship norms are set. Those norms are reset every time there is a big change; getting married, moving away, having children. With the exception of moving, those big changes haven't happened in my life so I don't really understand where I fit when the dust settles on those other things or even how it works when those situations are present when I meet someone. With age, the demographics are really starting to work against me. We all have less time for everything and most of the people I know are married with kids AND moving every few years. There is a churn of new people in their lives that move them further and further away from the things we used to have in common and further and further away from our history and shared experiences with one another. It's hard to manage long distance relationships of any kind and most don't survive. OB may be my most favorite boss/friend since my first boss out of college (still the best person I have EVER worked for) but there will be others for both of us.
I'm always prepared to be left behind or dropped because there is only so much room and time in anyone's life. You simply can not take everyone with you and I don't understand why 9/10 of the people who talk to me would even call me their friend. I say this without an ounce of self hatred but I really don't understand what most people get out of being friends with me or what they even consider me to be. I don't understand invitations to visit and I am always, always nervous whenever I accept them that this will be the time I failed to understand it was not an invitation they ever expected to be accepted. That is a terrible feeling and I want to avoid that feeling. I basically have to be begged to visit. Not because I'm awesome but because people say things they don't really mean because they are polite and well meaning. If you have a wife/husband, kids, family, etc, I'm not sure what I'm adding to the mix that you aren't getting somewhere else and I don't want to add to the chaos in your life. Maybe one day I'll get over that and not fear that feeling of 'wow, I totally called that invitation wrong' but until then...
I think that's why I cried so much when OB left. I was absolutely crushed to break up our small team but I was also grieving the loss of him in my life. I don't think we'll survive. Being friends with married people is the worst, and especially married men because I am mindful/wary/careful about how my relationship may be perceived by their spouse. I've had issues with husbands being jealous of the time their wives want to spend with me too and that sucks just as much as a wife being wary of my relationship with her husband. I believe in both cases, I'm a catalyst for something bigger in their relationship but I'm not interested in being a catalyst or a lightening rod for some bigger discussion a couple needs to have. Most people aren't interested in digging past the 'why am I jealous of your relationship with Ava' to whatever the bigger issue is. It's easier to let me be the issue. And maybe I am the issue and their lives would be without strife were it not for me. This is why it sucks to be friends with married people. I'm in my mid-30's so almost everyone I know is married. I have one very close single friend. Thank God for her. She is the person I can call with all the insignificant minutiae of life that is the fabric of intimacy in a relationship. No one chasing toddlers or eating breakfast with the Mrs./Mr has time to hang out on the phone for 45 minutes trading notes on the individual threads that compose the fabric of my life. Further, it's actually not that interesting. We're both just really bored.
I have to make a note of the couple that is the exception to this general rule, not only because she's a faithful reader who calls me with comments when she objects to something or finds something particularly funny but because they really are unique. I can hang out with both of them. Her husband and I like a lot of the same shows, have similar senses of humor, I don't feel like we need to talk when we have nothing to talk about just to make conversation. We can hang out, watch tv, talk about whatever, and it's all good. I am not afraid that I need or like them more than they like me, I'm not afraid of any weird opposite sex vibe, they have stayed at my house without me even being there, and I treasure their unique place in my weird little universe. It may not stay that way but I do treasure what it is now. I know you're going to call me anyway but at least you're going to call to say you were going to call me to set me straight and then you got to the end of this and are now calling to say you are glad I am not "ridiculous" as it concerns you.
I'm always prepared to be left behind or dropped because there is only so much room and time in anyone's life. You simply can not take everyone with you and I don't understand why 9/10 of the people who talk to me would even call me their friend. I say this without an ounce of self hatred but I really don't understand what most people get out of being friends with me or what they even consider me to be. I don't understand invitations to visit and I am always, always nervous whenever I accept them that this will be the time I failed to understand it was not an invitation they ever expected to be accepted. That is a terrible feeling and I want to avoid that feeling. I basically have to be begged to visit. Not because I'm awesome but because people say things they don't really mean because they are polite and well meaning. If you have a wife/husband, kids, family, etc, I'm not sure what I'm adding to the mix that you aren't getting somewhere else and I don't want to add to the chaos in your life. Maybe one day I'll get over that and not fear that feeling of 'wow, I totally called that invitation wrong' but until then...
I think that's why I cried so much when OB left. I was absolutely crushed to break up our small team but I was also grieving the loss of him in my life. I don't think we'll survive. Being friends with married people is the worst, and especially married men because I am mindful/wary/careful about how my relationship may be perceived by their spouse. I've had issues with husbands being jealous of the time their wives want to spend with me too and that sucks just as much as a wife being wary of my relationship with her husband. I believe in both cases, I'm a catalyst for something bigger in their relationship but I'm not interested in being a catalyst or a lightening rod for some bigger discussion a couple needs to have. Most people aren't interested in digging past the 'why am I jealous of your relationship with Ava' to whatever the bigger issue is. It's easier to let me be the issue. And maybe I am the issue and their lives would be without strife were it not for me. This is why it sucks to be friends with married people. I'm in my mid-30's so almost everyone I know is married. I have one very close single friend. Thank God for her. She is the person I can call with all the insignificant minutiae of life that is the fabric of intimacy in a relationship. No one chasing toddlers or eating breakfast with the Mrs./Mr has time to hang out on the phone for 45 minutes trading notes on the individual threads that compose the fabric of my life. Further, it's actually not that interesting. We're both just really bored.
I have to make a note of the couple that is the exception to this general rule, not only because she's a faithful reader who calls me with comments when she objects to something or finds something particularly funny but because they really are unique. I can hang out with both of them. Her husband and I like a lot of the same shows, have similar senses of humor, I don't feel like we need to talk when we have nothing to talk about just to make conversation. We can hang out, watch tv, talk about whatever, and it's all good. I am not afraid that I need or like them more than they like me, I'm not afraid of any weird opposite sex vibe, they have stayed at my house without me even being there, and I treasure their unique place in my weird little universe. It may not stay that way but I do treasure what it is now. I know you're going to call me anyway but at least you're going to call to say you were going to call me to set me straight and then you got to the end of this and are now calling to say you are glad I am not "ridiculous" as it concerns you.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Happy Birthday America; My love letter to Philadelphia
I love this place. This is America. Macy's Day parade is a very white celebration with cameos of diversity, at least the way they broadcast it. Philly is a sweaty messy melting pot, no cameo needed. A crowd shot gives you everything. White next to black, next to old, next to Asian, next to everything. Our parade is step team followed by Falun Gong, followed by the Mummers, followed by a military color guard, followed by the Philadelphia Eagles mascot on a 4-wheeler. We celebrate for 11 days, we eat, we party in the smallest big city I've ever lived in. I love you Philly. I love you for your pretzels and pizza crusts strewn on the sidewalks. I love you for being so very real. For being what I love about being American, where I can't tell who is visiting and who lives here when they aren't traveling in groups of 20 with the same color t-shirt. As I prepare to live abroad, I will miss this about you. I will miss fitting in because absolutely nowhere in the world I've been is as beautifully diverse as our amazing country and Philly you are America. You are hipster (which can strike any creed), and African, and Black, and White, and Jewish, Hispanic, Asian, East Asian, Jersey, Irish Catholic. I can easily run into all these folks on my 10 minute walk to work, not to mention a 30 strong group of 6th graders visiting the Liberty Bell. For this one evening, we'll let how far we've left to go to improve on this great experiment go and just enjoy and celebrate what great thing we are.
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