The City of Brotherly Love

Somewhere approximately 6 days and 17 hours ago I arrived in Philadelphia and took possession of my new digs... a second floor apartment in the northwest 'burbs. It was an interesting drive; at once point at 80 mph down the turnpike Vinnie tossed the car into reverse... subsequently, there is now a loud clunky noise from my transmission, which I can only assume is going to be very costly when it comes time to get fixed.

But, I love it here. For not having seen the apartment before hand, it is perfect minus storage space. I could use an extra closet, but I'm making due.

Jake went missing the first night, but was found 3 days later in the utility closet of a downstairs neighbor... frightened, flithy and dehydrated, but good. I think even Bowie was delighted that he was returned safely. And my neighbor was delighted it was not a raccoon trapped behind her heater. Though I did mistake the raccoon for Jake while out looking for him one night without my glasses or contacts. I assure you, raccoons do not like to be chased by humans.

All in all though the Squirrel TV aka the bedroom window, is quite popular here... it took a while to get used to the crickets chirping, but I have a gun and I'm not afriad to fire a few warning shots when it gets on my nerves. LOL

It is also very nice to be back in an office setting.... my team is awesome and I enjoy being so close.

Otherwise, there is a lot of shopping possibilities... within walking distance is my gym, 2 groceries, 2 Starbucks, an REI, Panera and pet store. My love affair with Target is also salvaged as I pass one on my way to work and it is just over a mile away... not to mention a DSW and Famous Footwear. I even fit in an Ikea experience this past Sunday--and Ikea is an experience of endurance.

So, as I venture on my one week anniversary... Iwill be off to surrender my Michigan drivers license in lieu of a PA one.

Closing In

"O devil, devil! If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, each drop she falls would prove a crocodile." ~ Othello

The boxes are all packed now. It is an oddly humbling feeling to see your life reduced to stuff and contained all in such a small and centralized location where neighbors can peek in – and often do – to bear witness to the incredibly small plot you call yours. There is a cat snoring behind me, unsure of what this disruption of life means and they are truly grateful to see that I return to them each time I leave. Their sense of security has been rocked and the boxes were only fun and great before they saw all their things being sealed away inside of them. I often wonder if they thought they would be next.

The time to departure can easily be referenced in hours now, and most all goodbyes have been said. Hugs have been traded and as I was driving toward the mall today one last time, I thought about how there is sadness this time. All other moves, either I wasn’t aware or didn’t really feel like I was leaving a life. But I have had a life here, truly, for the last 8 years, and I am calling it the end of this chapter. It has been a long time coming, and I am fully ready; indeed I’ve been ready for a long while.

Tomorrow, my therapist will tell me that I need to feel the sadness, experience the grief as part of the process. She might even hint at the suggestion that I allow myself to cry. And while the latter is seemingly somewhat of a stretch, I’ve come fairly close in these last few days to breaking the six month tearless cycle. I feel it coming on, but rather than tears, my throat starts to close on itself as if I just ate a wasabi sandwich. The first time that happened, I was on the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer… I thought it was an allergic reaction to some spring foliage, but it turns out, I’m allergic to emotions—my own.

Recently, I was talking with a guy friend and mentioned that when in the face of emotion and tears, I think I become a guy.

“How’s that?” he asked. He didn’t seem offended, more curious.

“Well, I immediately asked what I did,” I started.

“Rookie mistake,” he noted, “go on.”

“I offered chocolate next,” I said.

He interrupted, “Look, this is just painful. You just have to ignore it and it will go away.”

“That doesn’t seem very compassionate.”

“Frankly, there is nothing you can do in that situation when water works just start for no reason. You let it run its course and move on.”

I was a bit stunned by this blatant admission, somewhat more stunned by it than the two friends I encountered in tears in the last several days. And yet, I was assuaged by the knowledge that I simply don’t become a guy in this situation. I might panic, I might say all the wrong things, but I care enough to try—even if I can’t quite get there, I want to be able to empathize; if nothing else, I want to understand.

What I have learned in the last many years from all my wonderful friends and a few choice professionals is that we are truly all different beings and my rather reluctant tear ducts are simply who I am at this point in time at this point in my life. It wasn’t always like this… I remember I used to cry, and I remember when I stopped, too. Crying is a powerful emotional outlet; but if you have others, and you use them, it all works out in the end. And for me, words don’t smear mascara.

When I’m ready, water works will start for no reason. When that happens, I hope someone is there to give me chocolate.

A good kinda busy

It's been a busy weekend.

A fabulous dinner and more big ass beers than I should have consumed on Friday night with friends at Aubree's....

Lunch and movie with a family friend on Saturday...

Sunday morning coffee at Bombadill's with friends...

Lunch with another friend on Sunday...

Time spent in the garden...

A sad defeat in Detroit today...

And, a lot of packing and cleaning.

But here's what I know after all that--no matter how many times I see my friends before I leave this week, it won't be enough. And if I am lucky enough, I will find people half as cool in Philly to spend time with... and look forward to visits.

Now, I was going to comment on the Shock's loss and the movie "The Brave One" but those who know me, probably already know what I'd have to say on these topics... and though they aren't all that interested, they know more about the starting lineup in the WNBA finals than they ever thought they might. And they are all too familiar with my feeling on the victimization and hero-stature of women in media slapped with a feminist label... and my annoying picking apart of everything from plot to my dinner. And yet, after it all, they are still there... masochistic bastards all of them... and the bestest people you could ever know. Much love.

Mahalo.

Notes on the news...

The Detroit Shock lost last night, both in points (ok, ONE point, but alas that is all it takes to lose) and in the media. Game 5 is Sunday in Detroit. I wonder if when a winner is finally declared on Sunday if the press will pick it up at all? Today, of the 45 headlines offered me by
Google, 3 were about baseball and 1 golf.

During the Shock game, Cheryl Ford's famous basketball father showed up--the camera gave him nearly as much footage as his daughter's plays and subsequent carry-her-off-the-court injury. When he was interviewed just past half time, he was asked why this was the first game he had been to since the 2003 championship--to which, he replied ever so tactfully: Because this isn't about me, this is about HER. Obviously, his tact was lost on the coverage.

Prince is suing the Internet. He is very tired of his copyright and image being shared and tossed about without his official blessing. THIS should prove vastly interesting. Remember when he changed his name to a symbol and wrote Slave on his face in this battle with Warner Bros? He had a real formidable opponent with a face then, now, he just has a real formidable opponent with an avatar and multiple aliases

Speaking of Prince, the man can and does jam it out. Sir Elton appeared on stage with him last night where he is closing his 21 Day in London at the O2. An encore that lasted nearly an hour allowed by one of his infamous and legendary after-show gigs where he played 2 hours. That is passion for your art--and can kinda make you understand his issue with copyright infringement.

There was some other noise out there today... the president, blah blah blah, the future presidential "hopefuls" more blah blah blah... I only report the SERIOUS stuff you need to know to be PINK ;)

Mahalo.

Freaky things in the air

On my sojourn out a bit ago, I happened to forget my iPod sitting on the charger. There was a moment of panic as I got in the car about what I would do and should I go back in for it. I decided I could, in fact, tough it out as I was only going to Joann's Etc. And I learned something very fascinating... there are these things called "radio frequencies" and if you tune your car stereo into one of these frequencies... you can get music and a bevy of other things. It's fascinating... clearly mad science. The Government should really look into controlling this before it gets out of hand... I mean, my gawd, I didn't even pay 99 cents for the song!

My Journalistic Tendancies Coming About

Well, there were exactly 4 headlines on Google News today about Baseball when I checked my reader... and yet not a single story about the AMAZING basketball played in Phoenix last night by both the Detroit Shock and the Phoenix Mercury. I'm willing to lay money down though that someone, someone ran a story about Grant Hill's being there in the audience.

I say it was an amazing game because the caliber of basketball was sit on the edge of our seat until the end good... and because my Shock won... yep they came back with a road win--let's hope they do it again and wrap this title up tomorrow... but all that aside. Even the commentators were noting that this game, this level of play, and performance USED to be what the NBA was about... but not so much anymore.

If you know me, I don't get that emotional about stuff, but had you been in my apartment last night, you'd have been witness to yelling and cheering and talking my "girls" through the fourth quarter when they were tired and there was a critical 3 minutes left. It could easily have gone into OT.

And you know, the closer you get to the TV, the better they can hear you.

Still, just one time, I would love to hear an interview after the game that wasn't pre-scripted. I mean, you have Rebecca Lobo, who retired from the WNBA a few years back on the floor talking to the players asking the same bullshit questions she used to get asked. "What was the difference tonight?" "What are you going to do next game?" The answers are always the same, no matter who you ask.

I thought about this last night while trying to get to sleep. Here are the questions I would like to see asked. Hell, if they want someone to ask it, I'm there with a microphone and I look cute in headsets...

1. So, there were those two double technical fouls in the game. What's gonna happen when you see her in the parking lot in an hour?

2. You got away with a big-ass foul there in the third; how you gonna come back in the next game to change it up a bit so you keep getting away with that shit?

3. Dude, you missed that pretty easy layup with no one defending you... how many suicides you think coach will have you running tomorrow at 4 a.m.?

At least her head can't get any bigger, right?

Diana Ross received a Kennedy Center honor. I'm still confused, standing here scratching my head in a WTF manner. Have we run out of people? Where's Kanye?

If the tux still fits...

Jon Stewart will be back hosting the Oscars in February... or so sayeth the BBC (which obviously means it is true). Personally, I loved him a few years ago, though the reviews weren't good. Of course, I have never read a good review for an award show host.

Now Playing: The Tragic Life of Ms Spears

If nothing else, Kanye West is a sheer genius of self-promotion. I do like his music and, if you recall, encouraged sales of his album over that of 50 Cent (to keep 50 from recording solo again, you know). Still, Kanye was front and center to defend Britney Spears' lack luster performance at the VMAs this weekend saying that MTV exploited her, and it should have been him opening the show. Nice of him to lay himself on the line like that... he will take the exploitation.

I haven't seen Britney's performance, and I really don't care. I'm more amused about the sudden public conversation about the exploitation of Ms. Spears. Wasn't that the basis of her career or am I missing something? You can't exploit yourself everyday for years leading up to a performance, have yet another very public breakdown and expect much sympathy. You also cannot call a press conference to say leave me alone and then call another one a week later over the personal aspects of your life. In some regards, I do feel sorry for her, she never was equipped with the management or savvy to make the transformation from momentary pop entertainer and therefore her life has become, in some sick sense, a form of performance art as she has tried to maintain her stature in an industry not all that interested for a public that would rather have the "reality tv" than anything else from her.

Sommelier with that bottle, babes

Taking a page, almost literally, from Calendar Girls, Napa farmers get nekkid for their wine country. I don't know much about wine, but this sure is incentive.

9 Days to Launch

Well, it is coming on a week and I will be moving. I have spent the last 8 years in this area; I'm wrapping it up here with the company of friends among lots of laughter and, apparently, food, wine and beer!

Last evening, several people from work got together--it was a really nice time. I was reminded of my shopping at Farmer's Market for tomato plants while wearing heels and a dress--in the pouring rain. A request for a promise to never change my quirky ways was made and granted. Sure, not everyone attires ones self in such a manner to buy tomato plants, but it isn't unreasonable--and I was in the mood. Still, an easy promise: I've spent too much time becoming who I am to try to undo it all--even if I wanted to... quite frankly, I'm pretty damn awesome.

Things that like to hold breasts

After an afternoon of packing and cleaning, and discovering that there was a leaky ceiling after last nights rain directly above my boxes, I have decided to sit down and eat something of value. For whatever reason, I felt that the television should be on, and I should be watching idiots make cakes... (ok, Geof is not an idiot, but he's the only one). When behold, I overhear a Playtex bra commerical in which the woman says, "Finding a good, comfortable bra is like finding a good man." I understand the sentiment, but there isn't a comparable place like Victoria's Secret where you can get a fitting, try on the men and take the bestest, cutest one home with matching underwear for under $100.

Tactical Dining

I was reading a post in one of my new favorite blogs: Chocolate and Zucchini about the concept of dining alone and the pleasures one should take in it... that said, it reminded me how much I desperately want to read the book "Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant" which is a collection of short stories about eating alone. Part of me knows that one more book to tote to Philly isn't the wisest of things, but the other part of me thinks it would be a damn fun read in the next 11 days.

Also on my sudden I-must-have-it list is the Chocolate and Zucchini: Daily Adventures in a Parisian Kitchen book... but I'm sure I can hold off on buying this until I'm settled in.

All that aside, as someone who frequently dines alone--either at home or in a restaurant, I am fascinated by others' experiences. What do others do? Often, as I was saying to a friend the other day, I eat my dinner standing over the sink reading something else, or just completing the task as if it were a chore... and many times, eating is nothing more than a chore. Yes, I am one of those that when busy enough or occupied enough has to remember to eat. And learning to find pleasure in dining out is something I am working on... that isn't to say I don't enjoy the company when I am with friends, as indeed that is often my only reason for going out...

I was asked recently, why I don't enjoy it--if it was because I was alone or there was some other reason, and I simply gave the answer, on the spot, that it was just because I didn't. But in thinking it through and being honest with myself and my answer, the reason is simply that I don't like to have to eat and when I do, I like to have utter control over what it is I'm eating, and in a restaurant situation, I don't. Knowing that many restaurant salads can contain upward of 1000 calories, it's a terrifying proposition for someone who views calories as the enemy. And so yes, I'm the annoying person asking for no cheese, can I get this on the side, do you add butter, can I get the steamed veggies instead of XYZ, etc. etc.

So I ask in this world of 1000 calorie salads and dinner entrees that can go up to 3000 calories in a single sitting is it a sickness or a talent to be able to enter the restaurant war zone and win the battle?

Wrap it up

Justin Timberlake's SNL Christmas Carol "Dick in a Box" won an Emmy this week. I bet Adam Sandler is all kinds of jealous.

See it next Sunday performed live on the Primetime Emmy show.

So much for a sweep...

Well, sadly, the Shock lost game 2 last night... and really, it wasn't their lack of ability to connect on their shots, lack of boards or turnovers... nor was it Pheonix's uncanny 3-pointer hits, it was the doomed viewing of the game by one SK. SK and I met up for some Wendy's and some bball watching... and as she did to doom the Tigers World Series victory, so she did to the Shock last night in game 2 where they fell short of a win by 28 points. Somewhere in the 4th quarter, I said I would be thrilled if they lost by less than 30 since they were, at one point, down nearly 40... so, given that, they rallied to get within 30. It was all I could ask for given the circumstances. Now, with the 5-game series sitting squarely at 1-1, Detroit has to do something no team has yet to do this playoff series--win on the road.

Jimmy Buffett in September

There is something about the air in September that I just love... these first few weeks, still breezy and warm, but with an edge that is irresistible. Many people cite Jimmy Buffett music as summertime faire, but I've always known he fits best into the play list in September. Much of his music doesn't really have the let's party feel (lyrically) as it does that the party is wrapping up, and it's time to settle in with a cup of coffee, hang with your really close friends and bring a sweater--just in case.

Or maybe, it is just me... leaving in 12 days and while I'm embracing the new challenges and looking forward to the adventure, I'm enjoying every minute I'm still here... getting a cup of coffee, hanging with my friends and you know me, never without a sweater even in July.

Peace.

Rebel without a clear cause

Nothing like a humid September evening, driving down Washtenaw singing along to Kid Rock... "I can smell a pig from a mile away..." while thumbing my nose at the local law enforcement patrolling speeds. Yeah, nothing like a crazy time on the way back from Roly Poly.

Shocking the House

Just a quickie tonight, dears.

Detroit won the first game of the Finals tonight with a record 108 points for a finals game! It was a beautiful thing... sad that Cheryl Ford was on the bench due to knee injury, but Kara Braxton and Plenette Pierson off the bench both got double-doubles as Phoenix just failed to meet the physicality of the game tonight.

Final score, 108-100

Next game is Saturday in Detroit.

It's a sports thing, politicking

The Detroit Shock play game two of the Eastern conference finals today. They lost game one on the road, but with home court advantage, I'm hoping they can make a decent play to defend their title this season... Detroit needs a winning team. Though, I have to say, their victory last year was subdued by the pouting of the failed victory attempts by the Pistons, the Red Wings, the Tigers, the Lions... and unfortunately, the success of the women of Detroit is not enough to take the tantrum of a deflated city and even make available championship merchandise for the hard fought win of its Shock.

What I found interesting while watching the game on ESPN2 Friday night was the commercials for the ATHLETE campaign by Nike. It brings to the table the discussion that women athletes should be given the same respect and consideration as their male counterparts.

"It's not a boy thing. It's not a girl thing. It's a skills thing."

Well said.

As a fan of the WNBA since its inception, I was disheartened by the lack of support the city provided the team until the 2003 finals... I remember the games prior to the finals when you could have your choice of seating... then the finals sold out... but 2004 found those fleeting fans fickly forgetting about the team. The coverage focused on Bill Laimbeer having been brought in as the new coach that year... replacing Hall of Famer Nancy Lieberman. Indeed, even the Wikipedia entry focuses more on Laimbeer than any one Shock player. Also covered overly in that first finals victory was Karl Malone... rather than the should-be focus being on Cheryl Ford, his Shock daughter (who, coincidentally was the first and only player in WNBA history to get Rookie of the Year and a Championship in the same year).

Still, when it comes down to it, I'd rather watch Swin Cash and Ford play than any powerhouse duo the NBA can offer up. And what strikes me as one of the true differences between the WNBA and the NBA is not gender, but that WNBA teams are truly teams... they have their star players, but they lack much of the ego. In a way, it's refreshing.

And, in a weekend that I've been jonsing for and missing the wicked skills of one late sports writer who had a keen political mind before he blasted it over Aspen, I have to wonder--what would Hunter Thompson make of this in comparison to the current presidential clusterfuck? My own observation is that Hillary has some mad, wicked skills of her own, but under the big NBA shadow of her husband Bill... is that enough? Perhaps it is like having Laimbeer coach the Shock... the winning combination, so to speak, that garners the attention of the masses, presents a team of powerhouse proportions whereby the women are doing all the heavy lifting and he on is on the sidelines reminding her that there are only 10 seconds left on the shot clock??

It's an interesting visual.

Still, its an early moment in the politico racing... though some are losing steam already and there is still well over a year to go. The truly smart (i.e. the ones that don't need the time to raise heavy funds and support--i.e., i.e., the moderate white guy contenders with heavy political clout) are holding at bay, watching the others go the marathon distance while they hold out for the 10K. Yeah, I'm mixing the sports metaphors.

But as the race wears on, I, for one, am finding myself more and more swayed by Barack Obama. He has that charm, that demeanor that is mesmerizing, yet doesn't ooze the sleaze the same way Kennedy, Reagan or Clinton did. At least, not yet. And that isn't to imply that Bush Jr here doesn't ooze sleaze--he's just never tried to hide it.

Mahalo.

Notes about town

Yesterday, U of M Wolverines lost their game to their "sacrificial lamb" Appalachian State... a huge victory for the Apps, a big blow to the massive ego of Michigan Football. A victory, I admit, I take a little pleasure in remembering back to the days when Michigan State choose my alma mater Central Michigan as their surefire team to best for three seasons... and lost in two of those matches. The headline today reads a quote, which I'm sure to not get in its entirety, but the essence of which is that the season is already over after this defeat. Yep, that's right... let's pack up the stadium for the year--I wouldn't mind the reduced traffic (both foot and road) for the last few weeks I'm here.

And speaking of traffic... who's brilliant idea was it to hold a football game on a holiday weekend when throngs of people are moving onto two major university campuses within miles of each other? I'm not an engineer, but there are not enough one way streets or turning lanes to remedy this mess... but if someone could throw up a few more construction cones, it would guarantee that I get my car plowed into the side of before all is said and done as I have now, this weekend alone, survived 5 near misses and it is only Sunday morning.

But all is not lost here in Ann Arbor Land...

DSW is having its double point days on all shoe purchases.

The Farmers Market was strong again this week with throngs of pretentious people walking haphazardously through the stalls. I managed to get some cucumbers, carrots and onions without stepping on anyone or getting stepped on. I also got what I can only deem the worlds best pumpkin donut... you will have to take my word for it, since I ate it, and it is gone, and there is no further evidence to substantiate that statement.

I found the cutest dress last night at the Limited. One I'd been eyeing for sometime and was marked down over 70%... the last one in the color I wanted and my size... a divine sign that I should have one more thing to have to pack.

And, as is par, the coffee at Bombadill's is delightful for a Sunday morning. In fact, it is delightful for any morning, but today happens to be Sunday.

Mahalo