Fireworks are my favorite

To commemorate the birthday of our great nation, four-fifths of my family came to visit me in the City of Brotherly love.

We drank Canadian beer*, saw John Legend sing, watched fireworks (not quite over the Art Museum) in the rain, walked a LOT with complaining, rode the Ducks, missed a bus by a second, ate Philly cheese steaks** and watched the entire first disc of How I Met Your Mother, Season One***. It was a great weekend but conversation kept circling back to the one who wasn’t there****.

We had a lot of fun and I learned a lot about my city like that one of the Three Stooges was from South Street and on Tuesday at noon I can see someone read the Declaration of Independence at Independence Hall. Also? Philly residents hate the Ducks.

But the most important lesson was learned on the 32 bus: If you beep your horn first, you can totally run red lights.

How was your Fourth of July?

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*How’s that for patriotism?

**Delicious bread, crappy service.

***You need to watch this show if you haven’t seen it. The PomFam wanted to steal my roommate’s DVDs to take home. Let\’s Go to the Mall

****Like the proverbial elephant in the room, I can’t ignore that she chose her new boyfriend over her son and family. I still don’t know how to get her the help I think she needs but I guess that’s the key: I THINK she needs it, she doesn’t.

Everybody Dies Famous In a Small Town

I’ve had my five minutes of fame on my hometown news station.

http://www.wgal.com/video/16715458/

PS-Great song by Miranda Lambert!

Secret Lives of Dairy Cows

The rooster crowed awfully early for me this morning, taking me back to my dairy farm upbringing. I’m super excited about the TV segments that a local TV station filmed this morning, necessitating my 4:30 a.m. wake up call. Learn all you’ve ever wanted to know about the “Secret Lives of Dairy Cows.”

PR pros are always worried about how an interview will turn out, but I’m really pleased with the way Holly conducted these segments. I hope you enjoy - and learn a thing or two about dairy farming!

Defining Salad

This being my tenth day on the road, I decided to take it easy on my poor, overfed body and ordered the salad and baked potato combination for dinner at Bob Evans. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but I’m a “selectarian” and rarely eat meat (usually only at fine establishments like McDonalds or Taco Bell) and only eat eggs when mixed in something (like cakes). It’s a texture thing that I’ve been harassed about dealt with since childhood.

Heads up: most family dining establishments don’t offer a wide array of selectarian-friendly fare. And the veggie food they do offer usually is lacking in good nutrition, e.g. pasta alfredo, fried eggplant, grilled cheese.

Tonight’s salad featured three cups of lettuce mix (iceberg lettuce, shredded carrots and red cabbage), three grape tomatoes and a quarter cup of croĆ»tons. I’m brutally blunt, so when the manager asked how everything was, I complimented the delicious ranch avocado dressing and then remarked that the salad was a little lacking. He looked at me like I had two heads. In Bob Evans wold, cucumbers, onions, peppers and cheese are delicacies to be used only for actors, dignitaries and royalty. Guess they don’t know I was the dairy queen.

But don’t worry, I finished off my healthy meal with a hot fudge sundae. I looove dairy!

Fruity

I’m traversing the Pennsylvania countryside this week and I really, really wish I had a photo card reader or a USB cord to upload photos of the things I’ve seen. There have been lots of HOTT boys (a whole bus load was going to Bowie, Md. I don’t know why either.), a broken toe and tractor trailers hooked up to bright yellow things that we guessed were to air condition the cabs. Please use the following to paint a mental picture of the highlight so far:

“Why would anyone want that much fruit on their shoes?”

“Why would anyone want fruit on their shoes, period?”

Pennsylvania Truck Stop Fashion: Your One-Stop Shop for Fruit Encrusted Flip Flops. Seriously, there were fat, green grapes dangling from the flip flop strap, complete with a bumble bee. If grapes aren’t your thing, they also sell a pepper variety.

Like tots but different

“They’re like French fries for breakfast,” I just overheard a father say to his young son.

“This is the best day of my life!” the son replied.

Take a minute today to reflect on the good old days when discovering home fries on the Holiday Inn breakfast buffet was like winning the jackpot of life.

Big, Fat Zero

I was chatting with a couple of 40-something coworkers while we waited for the clock to strike 11 and our tour would begin. Someone brought up weight loss and gain, and after being reprimanded again by one for losing to much weight, another tells a story about her two daughters. One recently graduated from high school and put on a few pounds since she stopped cheer leading. The younger daughter picked out a pair of shorts for her sister but even though they were a size bigger than she normally wore, the shorts were too tight and my coworker was going to make the girls return them.

So the soon-to-be college freshman decided to cut out the mindless eating and tried the shorts back on after two weeks.

“I couldn’t believe it,” coworker said. “After cutting out what little extra food she ate, she’d lost that weight and the shorts fit perfectly.

“Although she is a little upset that the shorts are a zero. She used to be a double-zero.”

I was so excited the first time I put on a pair of zero pants, even with the one in front of said zero.

Weekend Wrap Up: Fighting Back Tears Edition

  • When Matt Lauer’s voice broke at the bottom of the 9 a.m. hour of a special edition of Saturday Today, tears sprung to my eyes. So long, Tim Russert. Hope you’re surrounded by the Bills and white boards in Heaven.
  • P.S. I Love You. Those letters! That accent! Those shoes! Oh my stars! Do guys like Gerry actually exist? Future blog about Cecelia Ahern to come because she is amazing.
  • I opened the door and my nephew rushed into my arms. I scooped him up and gave him a big hug. I pull back and look at his face when he leans in and touches his lips to mine, the first unsolicited kiss made my eyes cloud over. He claps when you say, “Good job, Dylan!” He reaches for the stars when you ask, “How big?” He has my heart.
  • Then there were the many moments Saturday and Sunday spent agonizing over the state of my sister’s life. She walked out on her husband, her house, her job and has set up house with a new guy, in a new city with no income and rent and car payments to make. She’s too germaphobic to walk barefoot in a gas station bathroom, but she’s only a public head shaving away from going completely the way of Britany Spears and I don’t know how to stop the downward spiral. Her life is a web of lies but in her mind everyone else is at fault. She’s fine, she says. She’s not crazy. She doesn’t need help. What can I do?

Impressions at Night

City lights at night can make or break a city. Dim lighting hides what is dingy, dirty and degraded during the day, making nighttime stroll through the city enchanting, endearing and engaging. The Philadelphia skyline is beautiful. Not too tall and interesting enough to keep you interested. It masks the homeless men, curled up on stoops and over grates. Neon lights beckon you to the neighborhood bar which might look skeevy on the outside but is actually quite charming beyond the front door.

I lived outside D.C. for nearly three years and some of my favorite memories took place after dark. The Vietnam Memorial should only be experienced after twilight, when the dark shadows mingle with the spotlights to make the statues even more haunting.

As for the show:

  • Hal Sparks should cut his hair. But he’s dang funny.
  • Chris Bonno isn’t very funny. The local guy who opened/hosted was way funnier.
  • $4 is highway robbery for Michelob Ultra.

Papa John’s whole wheat pizza crust is delicious. Especially after two drinks at T.A. Flannery.

Brought to you by the letter ZZ

I’m off for a night on the town and to see Hal Sparks, who I’m sure will dazzle. I plan to indulge in a fizzy drink or two, perhaps one with a swizzle stick. I hope our seats aren’t on the mezzanine, but really, it’s a comedy club in Philly… doubt there is such a thing. Either way, I’m going to put a little pizaazz in the city of brotherly love with my littlest sister.

(This post is for you, Slice of Pink.)

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