Draft Post Potpourri

As promised:

1/7/09: Someone in the office made the mistake of putting fun-size chocolate bars into the office candy jar. I have eaten almost all of the Butterfingers, half of the Crunch bars, and accidentally ingested a Baby Ruth in my two days back here.

3/7/09: West Philadelphia, born and raised...

6/17/09: Many of my fellow AmeriCorps members are skipping town shortly after our contract ends in late July (and around when their leases run out). One even mentioned having a "Philadelphia Bucket List".

10/05/09: Plan C did not pass, so the continued use of libraries, parks and weekly trash pickup shall continue.

weird Philly memories and moments that make me weepy

Yeah I know, nobody expected that subject line to appear. But on my drive to work today, a radio station played Harry Kalas's announcing of the final outs of last year's winning game and I teared up a little. You can watch it here and here, but I don't know if you'll get the same warm fuzzy feeling.

Secret confession: Whenever I need a mental pick-me-up, I think of the excitement at the election party and then later at our house last year on Election Night. It always makes me smile. At the former, people cheered when a state went to Obama and booed when one went to McCain. It was sponsored by Philadelphia Weekly, and only one district in this city went to McCain, so there you go. But later in the confines of my little rowhouse, Obama won for certain. And when both Virginia and North Carolina turned blue, I cried. BLUE, you guys. Blue. We didn't even go blue for Clinton. My voter registration card is still for VA, and this confirmed that I don't need to change it. For now.

I could also list all of the Philly memories that make me angry (getting sexually harassed on the bus), upset (people hating on my out-of-state car), or generically happy (getting into clubs without paying cover, drunk taxi rides, cookouts at the main AmeriCorps house, meeting awesome new people), but I thought I would start with the sappy.

I've been here for over a year! In less celebratory news, Plan C could take effect and leave me with overdue library books. And fewer streetlights. And no more parks. Plus trash collection would go down to only every other week. Can't wait for the smells of that one.

at school, but not in school

Ah, the joys of being a young staff member at a university: everyone thinks you're either a student or a prodigy-type professor. So I can slum in the library with the undergrads, but I can also eat in the faculty/staff only restaurant. On my way to get my new ID, I was accosted by Comcast workers, offering me a giant Pixy Stick to showcase their "it's kind of a big deal" cable/internet promotion for students. This might have been awesome back when Anchorman came out, but...oh, who am I to turn down free candy. I might have to buy a bottle of soda just to relive the middle school field day memories of pixy stick-induced explosions. Take that, adult responsibility.

Coming soon: draft post potpourri, where I summon up snippets of all the great blog posts I started bu failed to finish in the first year of writing this. Because apparently Blogger saves them for you.

ice cold

Just sharing my love for Philly-based company Rita's Ice. Which up here, is not Italian Ice, but Water Ice. And they pronounce it "wooder" ice. I tried it once last summer in Abington, and didn't have it again until this summer. Blue raspberry in Wilmington got me started, but it's the new Swedish Fish flavor that got me there twice in a week. You get an extra bag of mini Swedish Fish with it. And with a location near you, how can you turn that down?

With that said, I have also hit up Capogiro Gelato recently, as well as every major new tart frozen yogurt with toppings place in town (Yogorino, Phileo, Sweet Ending) in the last two months. summer came a bit late, but it is here and the frozen treats are on.

Forbidden Drive

So last Wednesday, a jogger got killed by a large tree branch falling and hitting her while she was running in Fairmount Park. The story freaked me out because we were the same age, taught in local schools, and lived in the same neighborhood. Oh, and she was also 4th in her high school class (nothing like the little details to really shred your nerves). So I decided to continue with my running routine in preparation for an upcoming 5K, without the use of my iPod while on trails. There I was yesterday afternoon, just jogging along Forbidden Drive (it's a popular jogging trail, not at all forbidden) when I passed by the spot where she died, marked with various crosses. Nothing makes you want to get out of the woods quicker than that, so I decided to head up a hiking trail in an effort to get back to the main roads. As I was emerging back into the sunlight, I noticed a man in a FOX 29 news van. He yelled to offer me a word of warning, which I figured was about falling tree branches or the like.

Nope. Seems there was a reported "attack" on a woman in the same stretch of park near a parking lot a mile down the road. I had inadvertently run to where the press conference about said attack had just finished. He then cautioned me not to run alone. I made it back home and read the story. For some reason, the word attack made me conjur the image of a mugging, or attempted assault where the would-be victim got away. No, this was rape. It reminded me of a Jezebel item about the news media's inability to use the word. It happened before dark in what I thought was a pretty active and popular parking lot. Finally, if you watch the FOX video, the women interviewed say they plan to bring their husbands or other large, burly men along next time they go running. Which leaves us unmarried running ladies with not as many options. I have pepper spray and a cell phone, but no large dog or running partner. Also, I hate treadmills.

Newspaper update

So I should probably find it ironic (or just sad) that I read about the Philadelphia Inquirer's serious troubles in the New York Times. What's a Big City Without a Newspaper?

But while reading one of my favorite local food blogs, I found this great article from the Inky's Craig LaBan all about hard-shell crabs. And the inevitable drive further south to obtain them. It made me want to incorporate the phrase "regional foodways" into my daily vernacular. Isn't that most of what I write about anyway?

P.S. If nobody's going to click on the funny, interesting or cool buttons, then I'll get rid of thme. But then I expect any lurkers to actually comment once in a while.