Where is Broad Street?
Off on a tangent
Issue #20 Philly state of mind
I know, I know. I haven't blogged in a while. And much like "my dog ate my homework," my excuse is just as lame. I've been busy and tired. I know, I know. I can hear my mom saying, "That's no excuse, young lady."
Well Mom, you're right. So why have I been tired? Well work has been hectic, as has my personal life. So here's a little story of why yours truly is so tired. It started last year when the BFF decided to go back to grad school and applied to places all over the U.S. She recently accepted an opening at a school right outside of Philly.
So last weekend BFF, BFF's mom and I had a single mission -- find her an apartment in three days. Simple, right? I mean, I found mine in a couple of hours; I was totally sure we would be able to do this. It was going to be an adventure: We would see her school, meet some of her future classmates and see a bell. We were in Philly after all, where they keep the history.
Here you go, the Cliffs notes version of my weekend in Philly. Get some popcorn and settle in:
1) I get directions off Google Local that say I would be there in about and hour and a half. I proceed to throw whatever is clean into a suitcase, get my keys and go. I follow the directions all the way into Penn., no problem. But then it tells me to exit at 309. 309? Really? Wait, 309 would put me near Hershey, Pa. That's no good. I look at the map, I look at the directions, I look at the map again. There has to be a mistake. I finally realize that 309 is not an exit number but a highway. Awesome.
2) We constantly get lost. It seems like the roads change names even when all you do is go straight. It's like *poof* sorry the street you were on just expired; enjoy your ride on the new street. Half the time it seemed like the map didn't even match the city.
3) We go to this restaurant named Houlihan's that I proceed to constantly call hooligans. We were meeting one of her new classmates, and I looked like a dork constantly calling the restaurant hooligans. Hum ... that would be an interesting name for a place. Scalawags and hooligans. Anyways, BFF and BFF's mom went to the ladies room, leaving me to sit with the new classmate all alone. On any other day I would have tried to make polite conversation or at least asked a half decent question to jump-start the dialogue. But oh no, not that day -- that day I had the verbal skills of Beavis and Butthead. I think I mumbled something about being tired; I'm not too sure. So there we sat in that awkward silence looking away from each other. Rockin'. Because that's the kind of impression I need to make on a dude I'll be seeing for the next two years. Way to go Lucy.
4) We see the history -- OK, so we see the outside of Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell from the side of the road. Both are cool. You know, you look up, stare at the old stuff, think about our founding fathers and all that stuff.
5) They leave at 5 a.m. to go to the airport. I decided to wait in philly until 11 a.m. Know why? IKEA. Yes, people, I stayed in Philly just to go to IKEA. I was already there, I figured I would go and spend more of that money I don't have and should be saving for gas. But, much like MySpace, the place is addictive. I'm like a junkie feeding a fix in that store. And let me tell you, shopping at IKEA on three hours of sleep is never good. You think you need all that crap from the Market Place, but you don't really need rubber ice trays shaped like stars. You really don't.
So you're asking, "What about the apartment?" Well, we found her one, and it's really cute and really inexpensive. What every college students need, plus it's near the train, so we can avoid that whole getting stuck in the circle around City Hall in Center City again. (Remember that scene from "National Lampoon's European Vacation"? That's pretty much what it was like.)
OK, enough about Philly; the next one will be about Jersey. I promise. I know y'all are laughing at me thinking 309 was the exit, but come on, like I knew they meant Exit 339. And I know it's long, but I am making up for the dog eating my blog. You know what I mean.
On the iPod: Nothing; it needs to be charged.
Issue #20 Philly state of mind
I know, I know. I haven't blogged in a while. And much like "my dog ate my homework," my excuse is just as lame. I've been busy and tired. I know, I know. I can hear my mom saying, "That's no excuse, young lady."
Well Mom, you're right. So why have I been tired? Well work has been hectic, as has my personal life. So here's a little story of why yours truly is so tired. It started last year when the BFF decided to go back to grad school and applied to places all over the U.S. She recently accepted an opening at a school right outside of Philly.
So last weekend BFF, BFF's mom and I had a single mission -- find her an apartment in three days. Simple, right? I mean, I found mine in a couple of hours; I was totally sure we would be able to do this. It was going to be an adventure: We would see her school, meet some of her future classmates and see a bell. We were in Philly after all, where they keep the history.
Here you go, the Cliffs notes version of my weekend in Philly. Get some popcorn and settle in:
1) I get directions off Google Local that say I would be there in about and hour and a half. I proceed to throw whatever is clean into a suitcase, get my keys and go. I follow the directions all the way into Penn., no problem. But then it tells me to exit at 309. 309? Really? Wait, 309 would put me near Hershey, Pa. That's no good. I look at the map, I look at the directions, I look at the map again. There has to be a mistake. I finally realize that 309 is not an exit number but a highway. Awesome.
2) We constantly get lost. It seems like the roads change names even when all you do is go straight. It's like *poof* sorry the street you were on just expired; enjoy your ride on the new street. Half the time it seemed like the map didn't even match the city.
3) We go to this restaurant named Houlihan's that I proceed to constantly call hooligans. We were meeting one of her new classmates, and I looked like a dork constantly calling the restaurant hooligans. Hum ... that would be an interesting name for a place. Scalawags and hooligans. Anyways, BFF and BFF's mom went to the ladies room, leaving me to sit with the new classmate all alone. On any other day I would have tried to make polite conversation or at least asked a half decent question to jump-start the dialogue. But oh no, not that day -- that day I had the verbal skills of Beavis and Butthead. I think I mumbled something about being tired; I'm not too sure. So there we sat in that awkward silence looking away from each other. Rockin'. Because that's the kind of impression I need to make on a dude I'll be seeing for the next two years. Way to go Lucy.
4) We see the history -- OK, so we see the outside of Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell from the side of the road. Both are cool. You know, you look up, stare at the old stuff, think about our founding fathers and all that stuff.
5) They leave at 5 a.m. to go to the airport. I decided to wait in philly until 11 a.m. Know why? IKEA. Yes, people, I stayed in Philly just to go to IKEA. I was already there, I figured I would go and spend more of that money I don't have and should be saving for gas. But, much like MySpace, the place is addictive. I'm like a junkie feeding a fix in that store. And let me tell you, shopping at IKEA on three hours of sleep is never good. You think you need all that crap from the Market Place, but you don't really need rubber ice trays shaped like stars. You really don't.
So you're asking, "What about the apartment?" Well, we found her one, and it's really cute and really inexpensive. What every college students need, plus it's near the train, so we can avoid that whole getting stuck in the circle around City Hall in Center City again. (Remember that scene from "National Lampoon's European Vacation"? That's pretty much what it was like.)
OK, enough about Philly; the next one will be about Jersey. I promise. I know y'all are laughing at me thinking 309 was the exit, but come on, like I knew they meant Exit 339. And I know it's long, but I am making up for the dog eating my blog. You know what I mean.
On the iPod: Nothing; it needs to be charged.
posted by Lucy Quintanilla at 8:45 AM
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