As a kid, did you ever crave those summer nights when you could catch lightning bugs as their momentary flashes created an atmosphere full of twinkles? I participated in this activity every summer of my childhood years. In fact, I can remember it being a favorite of mine because it was one of the few times that I could fearlessly hang out with my big brother who also dug lightning bugs. Last night reminded me of these times as my niece asked me to join her on one of her first hunts. Suddenly, I remembered what summer is like for a child. So full of great outdoor fun, and a time to explore things that, someday, will fade away into the distance as more important things move to the forefront.
But, perhaps even more present than this resulting nostalgia was my curiosity. If I blog about this, can everybody relate? Are lightning bugs found everywhere? And, why are lightning bugs...well...lightning bugs? Why do they light up? So, I took a spin on the Fire Files. This helpful website is found on Ohio State's website, and I found it pretty fascinating, especially since it kept things simple and provided answers to all of my lightning bug trivia.
First, lightning bugs are not found any further west than mid-Kansas. There is the occasional one spotted out West, but they're not nearly in the numbers as they are here in the East. And they light up due to a complicated chemical phenomena that I would never be able to properly communicate. But, they do use this aspect of their biology in the mating process. So, next time you see the lightning bugs twinkling all around you, know that they're hearing the sweet music of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On." The site even went so far as to say that the female bugs tend to prefer the males who have the capacity to flash their lights faster. Wonder what the human equivalent of a fast flasher would be?
Long story short, I enjoyed this new spin on an old favorite. And as I encountered one of my worst natural enemies, an eight-legged freak, last night in the bathroom, I thought of how much better the world would be if all bugs were as harmless as my childhood friend, the lightning bug.
As another 4th of July passes, I wonder one thing: Is there anybody who truly digs fireworks displays? I suppose there has to be since it's a huge money-making industry in our country, and random stands pop up all over the place each year, peddaling their best.
I grant the fact that they're kind of like technology. They're kind of awe-inspiring in that someone was able to come up with the idea, create a formula for perfection, and create this trend and tradition. But, when it comes down to it, is one display really any better than another? Is there a real essential difference in fireworks? And are there fireworks afficianados?
I, personally, cannot imagine feeling too terribly connected to something that creates a deafening sound and a brightness barely observable. Again. Fascinating concept. Shoot things in the air that create a scattering of light and explode in the process. But, just as I cannot comprehend folks who take photographs of the stuffed animals at Cabela's, I cannot really comprehend the annual hype surrounding these displays.
Nothing feels better than flattering a friend or family member. Like if you go see a movie and you think, "Wow, that awesome character reminds me of __________." It's always a pleasure to share this information. One of my classic examples of this, and this is because I've used this one quite a few times...Jack Nicholson's character in As Good as it Gets. The poor man is plagued by OCD. Is he an adorable or easy-to-love type? Probably not. Yet, when you spot someone with OCD-like tendencies and they're familiar with this character, they don't feel offended by the fact that I compare them to Jack in this movie. In fact, it usually sets forth a flood of laughs due to some of the situations in the movie.
When I went to the movies tonight and witnessed the embodiment of a truly evil-spirited and self-serving character, I wondered about the effects of breaking the news to someone that they have those same tendencies. Now, I would never do this. But, as I pondered it, I decided it creates quite the divide. While it's totally acceptable to do the one, it's pretty wrong to do the other. But just imagine the damage you could do. This made me wonder who the worst character is to compare someone to. What do you think? I would have to say those such as the druggies in Veronica Guerin or the real sinister type like that. Help me think of others.
After watching the newest version of Pride and Prejudice, I have discovered perhaps the most laudable talent of Jane Austen. I was worried that since I have viewed the A&E version of the story several times that I would not feel this was anything that great; however, I almost immediately fell under Austens still very organic spell.
As I watched the strained interactions between the couples, and especially Elizabeth and Darcy, I realized what I so treasure about these stories and what sets them apart from many stories from the present. The sexual tension and feelings of passion and love that teem these couples' interactions are all clearly communicated through words and actions--but those actions are not nearly what you see on the screen now. The looks, the small movements, the elegant dances, and the eloquently worded letters...these are what tell the story of love in Austen. My preference for this does not at all indicate that I am feeling conservative and prudish about sex on the big screen these days. It's simply that Austen's route, by far, takes much more than some of the modern day stuff. Put two people together who feel very stongly about one another and make them show that love or hate without any self-explanatory or extreme actions that spell out the situation. This is a challenge.
Jane Austen, the filmakers, and the actors and actresses all successfully teased out this rare quality through the making of this brilliant film. Here's to the subtleties of love that make you fall in love with the idea of love all over again.
I've been on a nearly 10 year strike, refusing to watch one of the most raved about movies of last century, Titanic. I had no intention of watching this movie straight through...ever. As flocks of my young teenage friends migrated to the movie theaters two, three, and four times to see the movie, I became a martyr, insisting that I would not see it. Admittedly, most of those young women were going simply because Leonardo DiCaprio was starring in it; but, they went all the same.
Then, during the NCAA basketball tournament, a friend with whom I was watching the sports action kept flipping between the games and this movie. The few scenese I watched that day almost convinced me that I needed to rent it and watch it through. However, I had not followed through with that thought. Then, last night, as I was enjoying my dad's big screen HDTV, flipping through the listings for programming, I came across HBO-HD, which was featuring Titanic at 9:30pm. Late for a 3 1/2 hour movie? Sure. Did I watch? Absolutely.
I have the same thought as my friend, Sara. If you know what happens, there's really no need to watch it. However, what I learned by letting go of my stubborness last night was that the movie was about so much more than the ending of the great ship's journey. The love story and somewhat accurate historical perspective offered through this movie is nothing short of satisfying and entertaining--what movies should be.
Basically, I'm glad I waited to watch the movie until I was older and could appreciate the underlying themes and storylines.
I never had a trampolene as a kid. I don't think I even had the small version of one...remember those predecessors to the now monsterous ones? Part of that was that my mother was a firm believer that you could get seriously injured on one, and another part of it was just that I don't think they were quite as popular then. Now they are.
So, last night, as we held the annual 4th of July gathering at my brother, Ryan's, I finally had a real run-in with the world of the giant trampolene. Sydni was very bored with the group of adults, who found sitting around with beer in hand much more fun than swinging on the swingset or running through the yard with her. Finally, I felt real guilt about her being bored, so I walked back to the back of the yard with her to jump on the big trampolene. We had a blast! I couldn't believe how much air you can get on those things...no wonder kids dig 'em so much! We finished and returned to the house. But, that wasn't the end of the trampolene...
When it was time for the Bethlehem fireworks, a group of us migrated to the back of the yard in order to have a prime spot for seeing the display. Well, my brother and I lacked all patience in waiting for the display, so we decided to take our turn together on the trampolene. And he taught me something fun and new. He told me to sit in the middle of the trampolene while he proceeded to jump very close to me...I flew feet in the air, and neither of us could stop laughing during this time. Oh...and did I mention that we're 24 and 27?
What I learned from this is that it's never too late to experience those things you may have missed as a kid. I never even lamented the fact that I had missed this activity...just think of what else I could have missed!
Nicknames hold a very special place in my family. There are certain family members who are real pros at getting the creative juices flowing and designating such names to individuals. Now, sometimes the names are playful. These nicknames make you laugh or they can be a little game of affection that may be awkward to show otherwise. Unfortunately, there also have to be the times when these names are a little on the cruel side, marking an instance of conflict. In any case, I've recently realized that nicknames undoubtedly hold a definite space in my life...and here's an unforgettable example of how pervasive this habit can be.
My sister's family--she, her son, and her husband--are all members of the Our Lady of Lebanon Church here in Wheeling. The rest of us have grown accustomed to holding activities at the church and have gotten to know the priest there. When this all started, however, everything was very foreign to us...or so I thought. My dad and brother are great at talking with others because they're champion storytellers, especially when the discussion surrounds hunting or fishing. So, at our first gathering where the priest was present, they chatted it up with him. I found this to be very interesting...my dad and brother hanging out with a dude in a collar. Turns out, though, that this guy hunts on the same land that they hunt on occasionally. While I was recovering from the fact that priests are permitted to hunt, my brother was telling of a couple of encounters with the priest on this land during hunting season. The priest allegedly has an issue with practicing moderation in his hunting, so my brother nicknamed him Fr. Slaughter. Because this has a great ring to it and went very well with his stories about the priest, this has been the name that has stuck in my mind since.
This all came back to haunt me the other night as I sat with my college roommate, discussing her job which includes directing the religious education programs at a parish just across the river in Ohio. We were just commenting on a few of the local parishes, and I went to talk about Our Lady of Lebanon and realized that I had no idea what Fr. Slaughter's real name is. When I told her the story, we both got a huge laugh out of it. So, I guess this is a cautionary tale of how nicknames can sneak in place of real names!
It's been a long time since I've gotten a good dose of daytime television. Over these past couple of weeks, though, I have had some major exposure to this niche of American programming. Here are the highlights of my viewing:
1.) Oprah is truly convinced that she's like a prophet of some sort, I think. The woman pulls people on her show, then gets all spiritual elitist with them. I am not arguing that, on occasion, she has a good show that turns out very informative. For instance, yesterday, she had Leonardo DiCaprio and a scientist from Princeton on, discussing environmental issues--something that definitely needs discussing. Another day, however, she had a set of parents on who were talking about the damaging consequences of having a stripper over for their son's 16th birthday party. If you find MTV's Sweet 16 juicy, this was something that far surpassed those rich spectacles. Overall, the hugest problem I have with Oprah is that she's getting way too self-aggrandizing in my opinion. Yes, she is very giving...yes, she follows through with her causes...but, she has some poor taste in words and such on her show most of the time.
2.) Phil McGraw also believes he has all answers. I think his show is like a more tasteful version of Montel or Maury. He has these bickering people on, and it turns into a three ring circus, and then he gives his lecture. The saddest I saw was a mother and two daughters, and the daughter said this was the only way to try to solve their problems because her mother always follows Dr. Phil's advice. Hello!? He's a talk show host! He may have a counseling Ph.D....but please...if my mother listened to Dr. Phil moreso than any other authority, I would be more concerned about that than our bickering.
3.) Last, but certainly not least, there has been the ongoing feud between Star Jones and ABC, Star Jones and Rosie O'Donnell, Star Jones and the View executives, and the very visible feud between Star Jones and Barbara W
alters. The picture included here seems all too outdated for the show because only two of these five still remain on the show. But, the juiciest of the exits had to be Star Jones, and it totally heated up this week. There were rumblings when the show first signed Rosie O'Donnell to replace Meredith Viera in the fall, but that tension grew to a climactic degree this week as first Star took "on air" time to announce that she would not return. To boot, she interrupted a discussion to do so and also had not discussed this with executives prior to the live show. The following day, she was not back and Barbara Walters took her time in the spotlight to explain, in very tasteful terms I might add, that Star would not return again. I found this drama fascinating. I'm convinced that Star really just wanted a summer vacation as I have set up for myself!
In any case, I am psyched to see what other absurdities I will get to be witness to in these coming weeks.
When it comes to dining out, I'm a major creature of habit. In fact, I can name at least one place here at home where I have not once deviated from my original menu choice from years back when I first visited the establishment. Am I proud of this? No. But, my theory has always been that if you find something good, then you should stick with it. I blew my own theory to shreds last night as I ordered and ate my meal at Outback Steakhouse. And as the sign above indicates, breaking habits can be tough.
For years, I have eaten the same thing at Outback. I would order the potato soup as an appetizer, which went fabulously with the bread there, and I would round out the meal with the appetizer-size portion of coconut shrimp. Delicious combination. Last night, though, I went out on a limb and not only ordered something completely different but something that is making a trial run.
I ordered the bronzed chicken meal that comes with corn cakes. It has a vermouth sauce over it, and this was something that caught my attention. I love corn and vermouth sauce both, so I didn't think I could go wrong with this choice; I was, however, slightly concerned with the concept of bronzed chicken. What could this mean? Humans use bronzer to look tan...what on Earth could a chef be doing with chicken to bronze it?
To my satisfaction, I received a plate full of deliciously seasoned chicken with delicious corn cakes, and it was a very good portion. So, I guess sometimes it's good to try something new...even when you have no idea what the process is that takes place in order to present you with the result. I love food.
I met with my friend Mikey tonight...he's my friend who joined me throughout my undergraduate experience, including on my trip to Ireland. We began the night by having dinner at this very small German restaurant The Keg and Kraut. It was a delicious dinner of sauerkraut balls and German potato pancakes, among other things, but the ultimate moment came at the close of the Keg and Kraut experience.
As a preface, Mikey has made the decision to enter seminary school and proceed on to become a member of the priesthood. The very elderly woman who happens to be the one waitress that you'll get each and every trip to the Keg and Kraut asked Mikey how she might know him...recognize him. So, he explained that he went to WJU and frequented the restaurant oftentimes during his undergraduate years. She questioned what he's doing now, so he explained his current path. Following this, she first blurted out that she hopes he changes his mind and ultimately backs out of this. Then, she followed it up by looking at me and asked if I was going to be a nun.
It's when people say things like this and wave a very sincere goodbye (as this woman did) that I realize that I need to pass through life more guilt-free. She had no shame, and I would have to say I'm glad. I love the entertainment value of such stuff.
Before yesterday, I was not a particular fan of technical support. In fact, I pretty much did everything I could possibly do in order to avoid having to use it. It's not even that I had much prior experience with it, I think it was just that I didn't want to take the chance of looking incredibly ignorant. The other thing was that I couldn't imagine being successful with it because I'm a very visual person, so the thought of taking purely verbal directions over the phone while also having to precisely explain problems unknown to me was completely intimidating.
So, when I got my wireless router Monday night, I decided that I could easily install it using the provided wizard. Not surprisingly, however, I failed at this attempt. As a result, I boxed the router back up and was ready to seek out alternatives to even using it. After unpacking it and trying again only to fail again Tuesday morning, I finally broke down and called the Netgear number for help. As I did so, I felt zero ounces of confidence that this would end up good. After talking to the tech agent, though, and about an hour of doing so, I had officially installed a wireless network in my parents' home.
This experience was eye-opening. I will never view technical support the same way, and I may even call it much more often. Who knows! Maybe I'll never have to decipher the meaning behind a set of directions ever again!!!
Mother Nature is usually so good to me. I thoroughly enjoy virtually every aspect...wildlife, flora, seasons, weather, etc. Yesterday, however, a small corner of Mother Nature showed its wrath and made itself felt in my life.
Upon my return to West Virginia, I had to have my car inspected. This is the yearly responsibility that never really comes of anything for me. It's just a matter of getting the new sticker. This year, however, was different because I had noticed about a week ago that my reverse lights were not functioning. My dad had gone through my fuses with me to make sure it was not a blown fuse, but that did not remedy the problem. So, when I scheduled my appointment at the dealership for yesterday, I mentioned that I would need them to fix the lights as well. I dropped the car off, then I received a call from the very courteous (very hot) man..."Ms. Chase? It appears you have rodent damage on your car." What damage?! Rodent?! After his explanation that the wires for my reverse lights had been chewed up near the transmission, thus deeming them defunct, I realized what had happened.
Bryn Mawr was full of a squirrel population like you wouldn't believe unless you witnessed it. I have decided that what happened was one took up residence in my car, chewing these wires. Whatever the case, this was one expensive brush with the evils of Mother Nature, costing about $165. Even worse, the warranty wouldn't cover it because it was damage to the car and the insurance couldn't cover it because I have a $250 deductible. So, while squirrels have never been a favorite for me...they're now totally down on the list...like at the bottom.
As I prepared for my move this week, I had several generous friends give me things that made me reconsider gift-giving etiquette. What these folks made me realize is how important it is to both give what's appropriate and meaningful but also something with which the essence of yourself is hovering. I will not lie, I absolutely adore receiving gifts, and I often present them to myself; I do, however, hesitate to open gifts in front of others. I believe this is just one of the many results of my effort to stay out of the spotlight in a group...I'm more of an observer. In any case, let me highlight those gifts I received this week that have my stamp of approval for thought and originality.
The first of the gifts was a journal. This is, indeed, a standard sort of gift, but the giver personalized it by writing on the first page of the journal. This message was a emotionally powerful and meaningful message meant to leave a clear mark of her spirit. Another gift I received was a group of three toy pigs. While I do not maintain a collection of toy farm animals with which to entertain myself, these pigs will remain a staple part of my belongings for time. This gift was given by an individual who was familiar with German tradition, so the pigs were given under the German assumption that the pig brings fertility, good fortune, and sustenance. I received three, just so that no one pig had to take the burden of all three. As a result, I will be carrying well wishes with me, and with those well wishes (the pigs), I will also carry memories of a precious person from my time in Philadelphia. Another gift was a bunch of burnt DVDs and one with a huge volume of music--my favorite. This gift was given, based on my musical and television tastes, but they also are indelibly marked by the tastes of the giver. Hope's Cookies were also given to me. Now, while the actual cookies are already half gone, I will never forget that I received these from a person to whom I admitted, "I have a love affair with Hope's Cookies." Another one of my favorites from the week was a meal with a friend, it was her treat. But, it was something we both truly enjoyed.
Basically, what these people have proven to me is that they not only appreciate my interests and favorite things, but they also are interested in me remembering their places in my life. I, of course, would have remembered them without these gifts, but there's nothing like the material to serve as a post-it note reminder that things did and continue to exist--just like my interactions with the givers.
In these final Philadelphia days, I have quite a few farewells to wish. I have to say goodbye to the fine friends I've met here, my co-workers, and I cannot forget the great eating establishments that I will have to disengage from with my departure. Considering these farewells, I came to the conclusion that stuff here in Philadelphia took on a completely different meaning for me since I had none of my elements of comfort when I first came here. This, however, has also changed the mood of the farewells. One of my first farewells came last night. Unfortunately, Sara and Tim Dudley took off this morning for their summer Midwestern post--Tim's research gig in Ames, IA. So, Sara and I took yesterday evening to do it up well one last time here on the Main Line; what I should really say is that we did it up well for the last time, with us both being Main Line residents. We went to Primavera Pizza Kitchen in Ardmore, where we had Caesar salads and shared an entree of tri-colored tortellini in a delicious white sauce with mushrooms and ham. Then, we shared a tiramisu dessert and had coffee. Afterwards, we made our way to Old Navy and Borders. At the end of the night, Sara handed off one of her delicious loafs of banana bread, squeezes were exchanged, and farewells were expressed. Last August, I detested farewells; now, however, I see them in a pretty different way. They're not all laden with sadness and discontent. Now, I'm learning that they're just part of the movement into a new phase. Those who stick around for the next phase will prove just as special and as much a part of my life as before; those who will fade away in my timeline will always hold their place in my life. Sara's instruction gave me major perspective when I told her I may be sad for the first few days after our split: "How about more like 15 minutes?" By last night, she had decided there was no reason for either of us to spend a moment being sad, and she's right. Saying farewell is not an end. It's really just an opportunity to take inventory of what has been most satisfying up to the present, agreeing to hold tight to that, and allowing the separation of things that no longer remain satisfying.
As I sat in the office of the Managing Editor of the Wheeling News-Register and Intelligencer last Friday, interviewing for a reporter position, I pondered how incredibly uncomfortable interview situations can be. The very backwards aspect of this was the fact that what made this interview most uncomfortable were those things that were meant to "personalize" it. All of the stock questions were not ones to sweat for me. After all, I have had my share of interviews and have grown rather confident, self-assured, and convincing. The first sign of internal struggle and coming undone surfaced with Mike Myer's question, "What would you say is the greatest American novel ever written?" This threw me all off. In a casual discussion with a friend or friends, I could go on forever about this. Mr. Myer, however, stumped me. Now, I did not choke, I presented my answer and even provided a well-formed answer to his follow-up question, "Why do you think that?" But, just as I thought the interview would abandon this uncomfortable foreign yet strangely familiar and personal stage, it strayed from the normal, run of the mill questions once again, moments later...
Mr. Myer was attempting to grasp my general Ohio Valley knowledge, so he did so by asking three rather strange and unbelievably obscure questions. The first caught me way off guard...he asked, "What is the difference between a shot gun and a rifle?" Internal me: "Huh?" I quickly rebounded from my disbelief and mentioned my belief that it had to do something with the ammo of each. He was surprised at my expertise, and I explained that I have a father and brother who both are outdoor sports enthusiasts. He went on to provide the exact answer he was searching out. Next, he asked who the three representatives in Congress are for West Virginia. I threw out Mollahan and Byrd, but I wasn't positive on the third...the legendary Jay Rockefeller. We both sort of laughed this off since I came up very quickly with the most obscure of the three-Mollahan--yet remained stumped on the infamous. Finally, and perhaps the strangest question I will ever be asked, "What is the definition of sewage versus sewerage?" Again, internal me: "Huh?" I was armed with the answer, however, after a tip-off from a former newspaper interviewee. So, I answered the questions without so much as a heartbeat passing.
Still, I have been unable to shake the feeling of irony surrounding the juxtaposition of the familiar and personalization of this professional must with some of the most intense discomfort. One would assume that the opposite were true, making a stiff, standard questions situation the most uncomfortable. I guess it's the concept of sitting with a total stranger yet attempting to display your most comfortable and together self.
For the first time ever, I made a trip to the Dunkin' Donuts on Lancaster Avenue in Bryn Mawr for an early morning, pre-work treat. As I was en route to my luscious destination, I felt as though I were on cloud 9. I've made my own hazelnut coffee at home in the morning, but I had never made the pilgrimmage to the actual Dunkin' Donuts establishment to buy an early morning cup to take to work. Most of this stemmed from pure laziness and lack of motivation to wake up a few minutes earlier to allow the time. In any case, as I approached the store, I drove past the most crowded Starbucks in existence only to see that the parking lot was, for once, virtually empty. So, my confidence that I could make my trip an easy in and out at Dunkin' Donuts skyrocketed. What I failed to take into consideration was the very loyal and obviously earlier risers who support the Dunkin' Donuts establishment. Then, as I am attempting to turn into the parking lot, a very fancy unnecessarily fancy car comes into view over the horizon. The driver seemed to be on a mission, so I waited for him to pass...only to find that he, too, was headed for his Dunkin' D's. I felt severely cheated since this man did end up in line in front of me. As I tried to exit the building, the line was backed up to its normal place, so my exiting required the woman standing in the doorway to move in order to permit me to get through. Would she do this? No. Would she even attempt to move a few centimeters so I could pass as I stood virtually nose-to-nose with her? Of course not. My case in point here is that rude people are always out there. However, I have to say this was one of my rudest Dunkin' Donuts experiences, and I am going to totally blame it on the fact that it was early in the morning and no one had had their coffee yet. Thus, while the hazelnut experience is usually worth it, I have to say that I will probably avoid ever placing myself in this situation again. I just don't like doing the two-step with people quite so early in the morning.
With the ever-popular summer weeks of vacation and the most regular week of Chase family vacations, the Fourth of July, quickly approaching, I've been reminiscing of the unique character of our more recent past years of vacation in Canaan Valley, WV. For those who have never seen this area, it's the typical mountain resort area: a golf course, a resort that includes a pool and restaurant, a variety of recreational activities, including whitewater rafting, fishing, hiking, and scenic overlooks. The combination of Blackwater Falls, WV, and Canaan Valley, WV, the two being just minutes apart, are really quite the treat regardless of the season.
In any case, the great blog tale really stems more from a restaurant in Canaan Valley, called Tuckers. This is the best compromise between really casual and fancier dining available. And it's a place where you go, and you know you're surrounded by friendly folks. In fact, one of the favorite activities at this restaurant is to leave your table while waiting for your food because many gather at the huge windows at the back of the place. The reason is because the restaurant borders a vast field that's famous for it's bear inhabitants. So, you definitely become friendly and familiar with those around you as you peer out the windows, watching for the ever-elusive black creatures. This is not where the bear adventure ends, though, because after you finish your meal, you are to wander around to the side of the building to check out the dumpster area--yes, I know, a common post-dinner destination. In any case, it is pretty much "how you do it" at Tuckers.
This bear phenomena actually looms behind many other aspects of one's visit to Canaan Valley. Those who are most avid internet researchers can look further into this. But, for now, let's suffice to say that the most popular vacation homes in the area are those who serve as typical outposts for visits from bear families as well as human ones. For a sneak peek of the sights, visit either the Canaan or Blackwater websites.
What a year! As I pack up to head home, I thought the most appropriate blog entry would be one, paying equal time to both of my geographical love affairs.
10 Best Things about Philadelphia
1) The chance to experience a socially divergent strain of people whom I would have never experienced elsewhere...Philadelphians and especially Main Liners are truly one-of-a-kind.
2) Villanova--it has taught me how to stand on my own, using discretion and personal preference in educational decisions.
3) Sara Dudley. This is another person I would have never met otherwise, and she is perhaps one of the best people with whom I've ever come into contact.
4) Tim Dudley. This is a dude who has made his way in academia, and very successfully so, and yet he's one of the most well-rounded and kind men I've met.
5) Borders in Bryn Mawr. This, my friends, is the place for psychological study. If you need a project, I beg you to start here.
6) Springfield. Affectionately referred to as "the Midwest" by Sara and I, this suburb of Philadelphia allowed us the shopping options and layout with which we were much more familiar.
7) Plymouth Meeting. Target...the one place that I needed to have be accessible to me at all times, and the Plymouth Meeting location permitted my naive self the indulgent pleasure of Target shopping whenever the urge hit.
8) Philly Cheesesteaks. While I did go all out and do the regular cheesesteaks for several of my first weeks, mostly at Pizzi's on Lancaster, I have found my one cheesesteak true love in the Buffalo Chicken Cheesesteak at Campus Corner.
9) Variety. No matter what it was that we came up with, Philadelphia seemed capable of meeting the challenge. Whether meeting Nicholas Sparks or Dan Aykroyd or just wanting to try a random Cuban meal, Philly proved the means to do so.
10) Thai Pepper. I will miss this so much. It was my weekend companion many weeks, and it's flavor was a true taste sensation.
10 Best Things about Wheeling
1) Sydni Shannon. This little girl is the one thing capable of putting a smile on my face regardless of my mood or the situation.
2) The remainder of my family. Things change a lot with time. I feel fortunate to have, at my age, realized what I want to accomplish within this sphere of my life as well as my professional life.
3) The Italian Festival. Funnel Cakes, several food vendors, and many familiar faces.
4) Wheeling Coffee Shop. Yes, I've experienced several new, and probably better, venues for this...but, there's something about my first coffee shop on Washington Avenue.
5) Ohio County Public Library. A place I love to go and just wander through the stacks.
6) Oglebay Park. Whether it be a meal at Wilson Lodge or some time at Schenk Lake, this is one of my favorite places out of everywhere I've been.
7) Uncertainty. Yes, I think this is a good thing...for me. I occasionally get carried away with planning, and I think that this move will reintroduce variables--something that's good.
8) Perkins. Breakfast is so good, but so are the late-nite Sante Fe Mini Chimis.
9) Nogales. Great little Mexican restaurant that many have underestimated.
10) The Hills. I miss being surrounded by hills at all times.
So, now you know what I like best from both of these locations. I will miss Philly just as I missed Wheeling this past year. And I will never forget that Philly was home for some time. It taught me a lot, and it has prepared me for this next phase. Best case scenario? I will find success and a new meaning behind my origins. Worst case scenario? I will miss school like crazy and return sooner than planned.
As a result of this impending move, I may not be updating frequently until I settle back in. But, this blog is not going to disappear.
As originally promised, I am going to move to my next entry in my blog travel log. The photo to the right was taken during my Spring Break 2005 trip to Black Mountain, North Carolina, with my friend Rachel and another one of her friends, Amanda. We drove down on a Sunday, stayed with some of Rachel's family in Black Mountain, and we returned to West Virginia on Wednesday of that week. Looking back, I think this was a great trip to take. It was a great prelude to my coming year of change and relocation, and, best of all, I got to visit a place where I had never been, see new things, and bond with some folks I would have never had the chance to bond with otherwise.
On the drive down to NC, I got to see parts of West Virginia I had not, see parts of Virginia never seen before, and indulge in some of the best parts of roadtrips--very unhealthy snacks and fun conversation. I remember one of my hugest concerns at the time was signing a lease for the apartment I was to move into in Pittsburgh...needless to say, I never got there. In any case, I'm not usually one to confidently dive into situations where I'll be surrounded by very new people--especially if I will not have the chance to take breathers. This was one of those times, though, so I was a little hesitant, but as I saw new scenery and roadsigns, marking towns formerly unknown to me, I knew I was doing the right thing by going along.
While in Black Mountain, a very laid back and quaint town that also serves as home to the long-time Evangelical preacher, Billy Graham, we did lots of fun yet self-reflective sort of activities, since all three of us were there to try to find some clarity. Amanda and I chose to hang at a great little coffee shop, the Dripolator, the first day...I read The Handmaid's Tale and Amanda studied for some upcoming finals in her graduate-level Physical Therapy program. Then, Rachel's family took us to dinner in Asheville after a day of hiking trails and observing waterfalls. Asheville quickly became my favorite tourist destination in the U.S. I love the layout of the city...sort of hippie-style yet a real city, with city-like buildings and businesses. And it's tucked amidst this amazing lay of land. We also hiked the area surrounding the family's home, and in the evenings, we enjoyed some fun like board games and cards.
As we drove out of Black Mountain, it was a beautiful sunny morning, and all three of us hated to leave yet knew at the very same time that it had served its purpose and must be preserved as one of those sacred places that we will escape to for relief from the complexities of life. As we drove away, U2's "Beautiful Day" blared over the car stereo, and I actually could feel tears in my eyes, amazed how the mere beauty of nature and new surroundings can renew your perspective on life. I will never forget the lessons of Black Mountain...
The place where my Philly adventure began--Cape May, NJ. Sort of funny that my Philly adventure began in New Jersey, but I love it that that is the case. The highlights from a glorious Sunday spent on the beaches of Cape May:
- How often is it that a native West Virginian gets to drive a couple of hours, park on an oceanfront street, climb a few stairs, and walk on the beach? I'll answer that...not very often because the drive has always been more like about 8 hours to reach the shore of the Atlantic.
- It was monsoon week in Philadelphia last week. So, the unbelievably clear Sunday was a great blessing for a beach trip. We held our breath almost up to the last moment, but Mother Nature pulled through in the end.
- Two semi-inexperienced East Coast drivers made it through on MapQuest directions. The last time I tried this with Pamela, it was a disaster beginning like 4 miles away on Lancaster Avenue. This time, Sara and I took a different way, using the Ben Franklin rather than Walt Whitman Bridge, and we still made it--even through the rather trashy streets of Camden, NJ. On the way home, however, we expanded our sense of adventure by going blindly via the Walt Whitman rather than Ben Franklin...deep down, it was just that I favor the purely literary rather than historical literary.
- The ocean never ceases to please me. If you think about it, it's a pretty reliable crutch. The smell of salt that permeates the shore, the sound of crashing waves, and the ocean breeze will all remain my favorite beach elements.
- Crabcakes are delicious. Crabcakes on a screened in porch, overlooking Cape May shores are like gold.
- Driving home to the same home I departed from just hours before rather than crashing in a not-so-homey motel makes the trip even better.
- What I will remember for the next trip: sunscreen...probably SPF 80.
As I laid just as I did 8 months ago, contemplating life and the sounds of the shore, I realized that I have almost made it through the first year. My reaction to that? Just a big wow. I look back to last August 17th, and I wonder how much more a person can change in a year and still be the same person. Life has been good to me...Philadelphia has definitely been good to me...and I'm glad that I can look forward to many times of allowing Cape May to be good to me.
As a kid, did you ever crave those summer nights when you could catch lightning bugs as their momentary flashes created an atmosphere full of twinkles? I participated in this activity every summer of my childhood years. In fact, I can remember it being a favorite of mine because it was one of the few times that I could fearlessly hang out with my big brother who also dug lightning bugs. Last night reminded me of these times as my niece asked me to join her on one of her first hunts. Suddenly, I remembered what summer is like for a child. So full of great outdoor fun, and a time to explore things that, someday, will fade away into the distance as more important things move to the forefront.
