Philadelphia

Part of my reasoning behind stranding myself in Virginia for the first year of residency was that I've never lived near the east coast before. I had all these big dreams of exploring my way up and down the Atlantic seaboard seeing some of the great American cities. At some point during the past two weeks, as I wallowed in post break-up mode (pajamas, chocolate, cats, movies with Julia Roberts), I realized I was wasting the golden opportunity. Then serendipitously, my Philadelphia-dwelling friend Alyssa invited me to come visit for the weekend! I should note that prior to this trip, my closest tie to Philadelphia was the fact that when I was 5 years old, I played summer T-Ball on a team called the Phillies. My experience with the Phillies convinced me that my fondest dream was to grow up to be a pro baseball player. My sister, Bonnie, even helped me "train" for the professional league by throwing baseballs at my head in the back yard. Clearly, that dream died young. But fast forward 20-something years and there I was in the city itself.

The famous Love sculpture. Oh, irony.

I didn't have much time in Philly, but it was action packed! We visited a museum collection of Rodin sculptures, including a jolly good time at the Gates of Hell. We visited a fall festival at Reading Station, where I learned that donuts are made with a rolling donut-press weilded by a jaded middle-aged dude (not cut out with tiny scissors weilded by wee little elves, as I had previously assumed). I also learned that the Jolly Green Giant's little buddy, Sprout, is a man-eating monster. I'm sure of this fact, because I could see the face of his last victim peaking out of his mouth when we took a picture together. And I learned about a baked wonder called The Pumpplet. It's a slice of pumpkin pie baked inside a chocolate cake, layered with a slice of apple pie baked inside a vanilla cake, spackled together with a lethal dose of buttercream frosting, then doused with colored candy sprinkles. While naturally intimidated by such a ferocious creature, I still calmed my nerves long enough to take a picture of it in its natural habitat. Furthermore, I learned that from the city center, the Liberty Bell is in the exact opposite direction from the Philadelphia Art Museum, and that we only had time to make it to one of the two sites on Saturday afternoon. Like any conscientious, patriotic, historically-minded American, I chose the art museum. Why?

Because:

As a bonus, the art museum overlooks an awesome green space plaza with this monument in it. Technically, I doubt we were supposed to the ride the moose.

Finally, to avoid receiving the label of Totally History-ignorant Git, it should be duly noted that the Liberty Bell was officially visited before I left the city.