A life long journey

Who could have guessed all those years of curfew in college would have prepared me for life in the big city:

Here in CBL the subway/EL is my primary mode of transportation. It is quick, easy, inexpensive - and far less stressful than driving in COWSL (City of One-Way Street Love). Unfortunately, the trains stop running at/around midnight. The SEPTA buses still run-on through the night - but seriously, who takes buses anymore?

Last night, after a lovely night out, I realized it was far too late to catch the subway. My options were either a cab, or a bus.

And then I started thinking.

I often tell people that my apartment really isn't that far from downtown - perhaps I was right. To prove it to myself, and get an accurate time/distance, I decided to walk home.

3.1 miles and oh-so-many blocks later, I was home.

My intention was never to economize, but when I returned home I was terribly impressed with myself for the money I had saved on a cab...all the trip had cost was 45 minutes of my time, a little peace-of-mind and the six dollars and fifty cents I gave out to homeless people along the way.


Friday, Saturday and Sunday

Weekends do not matter to someone without a job.

All I am asking for is a reason to care about the weekend.

Does that sound desperate?

- more -

There is a chance I will never grow tired of seeing the skyline as I go throughout my day. On my way from the EL stop I have a beautiful view from the north, on the way back from the super-market I have a stunning view from the south. Riding the train back from the airport there is an overwhelmingly comforting view - welcoming home the tired and poor to the huddled mass where it is kinda hard to breathe.


Difference #464

I flew home last weekend. My little brother was getting married.

I am old.

I packed my suit and two changes of clothes, threw in sandals and my dress shoes, my toothbrush and deodorant (I left behind toothpaste, shampoo, shower gel and hair product - I was not checking a bag). I trudged 5 blocks to the nearest ATM, and back 2 blocks to my EL stop. Took the Blue Line to Market East and caught the R1 to the airport. Used my credit card for self-check-in. Argued with the security guy about my deodorant being a liquid/gel (He said it was, I contended it was not. I eventually pointed out that the container actually says "Smart Solid." I won.). Worked on cover letters on my laptop on the plane, and sent in another resume from the Charlotte airport. Talked with everyone and their mother about "What I am doing these days," and "Why Philadelphia." After the weekend, I flew home.

I am a grown up.

As I arrived back in CBL I gave directions and tips to a lovely woman flying in for an extended lay-over from Paris. I told her what to see, where to eat and what trains to take to fulfill said advice.

I am from Philadelphia.



I live somewhere else now. I have always known it would happen...but now that it has, the feeling has yet to sink in. Possibly things will change once I get a job (yes, that was me saying I still don't have a job).

The building I live in, however, is incredible. Our place is wonderful - high ceilings, hard wood floors, lots of space (very little storage) - just the way I like it. I have met really nice people:

Katie: works in the handcrafted-all natural-wood-furniture store (all the shops around here are hyphenated, and most of them include "natural" somewhere in the title). She was a huge help when things went a little wrong upon our arrival.

Sara: "with no H," she is quick to inform you. I suppose that is helpful in remembering her name. I am not sure if she also works in the store, but she sure spends a lot of time there.

Ken: one of the building managers. He saved our lives by letting us move in to the place, even though our broker had messed up a lot of the details (a lot=all). He is constantly checking with all the tenants to make sure we are doing well.

Ken's cronies: two larger guys that are constantly with Ken. A sort of Crabb and Goyle - minus the dark arts.

Joe: our neighbor. Joe wears Under Armour.

The job search continues. It is hard to know what to do at this point, my computer is sick of typing cover letters - but if he types the right one, I have promised to buy him the new wireless keyboard he asked for.