before and after

i've seen this on another Philly blog but can't for the life of me remember. either way, this is what excited me today. and note, that's definitely the crew for the reese movie, how do you know, which i only just added to my netflix queue two seconds ago.

1956

2009

even though the building on the left is no longer a hospital and the building on the right is just a glorified hollywood set, it's cool when things stay the same. but where is the 1950's honest tom's taco truck??

on the flyers and lord stanley

i have the sads. the flyers are going to the stanley cup. why is this so sads, you may ask? well, the sads is because i haven't paid much attention to hockey in years. i have the sads because i am not a real flyers fan anymore, when this is clearly the most awesomest time to be one since seventh grade. which, coincidentally may have been when both my interest and the talent of the flyers peaked. it's been crash and burn ever since.

i still wish i had my Lindros in front of the art museum poster up. he was a dreamboat, that eric. my mom loved john leclair. and then my dad told me that "brind'amour" meant lover of bread and i thought that was a stupid last name for a hockey player. but since then, my parents have traded in their season tickets for a house in the poconos and i'm pretty sure i only went to one game with my sis and the parentals this year. maybe two games, but i'm pretty sure just one.

so i am getting back in the game and to start i will now present to you...
My Awesometastic Slash Based on Nothing Really Factually Relevant and/or Perhaps Even Remotely Correct Guide to the 2010 Eastern Conference Champs Slash YOUR Philadelphia Flyers:

Hartnell - he has the crazy hair and i bet he's probably pretty goofy in the locker room. i'm talking whoopie pad crap.

The Center City Line - i think this one got fucked up when one of them got traded but i still really like the idea of an awesome line like the Legion of Doom. MOAR WITTY LINE NAMES, PLZ.

Jeff Carter - the one that my sister likes. the one the whole delaware valley likes.

Simon Gagne - the only one who's been on the team for a super long time anymore. his last name means "win." IT'S DESTINY, BITCHES.

Danny Briere - sounds like he'd be totally hot, but i'm pretty sure he's not. also, maybe starred in some sort of Buffalo-centric eastern motors rip off type commercial

That Guy That Everyone Calls "Lappy" - he probably knows a good dentist in philly if you're in the market

Carcillo -  likes to fight people. if they made a bobblehead out of him, they'd probably just give him bobble gloves instead

Cote - i feel like i should know something about him, but i'm at a total loss

Mike Richards - he's like Charlie Conway in my childhood favorite movie the Mighty Ducks (the original). all around good guy. the captain.

You don't really need to know any of the defensive guys except maybe Pronger and Kimmo, who is pretty much an ancient sage at this point.

As for the goalies, my brother tells me that Bouche is a douche who can't make easy saves so they replaced him with some guy is who is lightening on ice, if lightening could be on ice and not melt it. coincidentally, the new kid's name is Leighton so let's just go ahead and bring on all the "leight-ening" puns now. and sads for Emery who i feel is pretty cool, but he's stuck being injured.

Lauren Hart is pretty much the coolest chick ever and i've had a mad girl crush on her ever since i heard her sing. i kind of want to be lauren hart. i hear she has a record. and look, i get that she's no Kate Smith, but KS died when i was two.

That Fat Dancing Guy Named Shawny - i am positive that his title needs no more elaboration, but he has a myspace if you really need more information.

Sign Guy - again, not much more elaboration needed.

and you know what else i know? I KNOW THAT DIRECTV DOESN'T SHOW A SINGLE GAME OF THE FLYERS ON OUR TELEVISION PACKAGE ANYWAY SO EVEN IF I WANTED TO WATCH, I COULDN'T. I'D haaaaaaaaaaave TO GO TO THE BAR AND SOCIALIZE OR ELSE LISTEN TO IT ON THE RADIO which totally isn't the same or nearly as cool AS LISTENING TO THE PHILS ON THE RADIO AND I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I ALREADY TRIED IT THE OTHER NIGHT.

if it gives me anymore street cred, CLove and i went to the Flyers Wives Fight For Lives carnival this year (thanks, her boss!) and we played that fishing game where everyone is guaranteed a prize because we are the people who need prizes guaranteed. i snagged DOS bags with my fishing line and got to pick between a plastic lunch box and mini frisbee or a teeshirt. i now have a bright orange flyers teeshirt, so there's that. that gives me some more street cred, right?

also, it's as cold as an ice rink in my office, so i thought that should also count as points for me.

AND i had two teeth removed last week (more on that later), so i'm really feeling an extra special kinship to lappy and the gang recently.

and you know what else? one person can't even finish a full deep dish pizza themselves unless you want to end up Biggest Loser so plus one (finally) for the cheesesteak! bring it, chicago.


LET'S. GO. FLYERS.
clap. clap. clapclapclap.

and here, i made you this flyers heart to prove my love:

Things I Meant To Tweet, Edition 1

I think the title is pretty self explanatory.  Things I meant to tweet but didn't.  These come from last night's Drexel-Penn basketball game at the Palestra.  I don't even like basketball.  The rivalry proved awe-inspiring, however.


Penn Sign to Drexel:


-Drexel, can you read this?
-Can you read anything?

HIYO!  GET IT!?  'CAUSE DREXEL'S NOT AN IVY LEAGUE AND THEREFORE DOESN'T TEACH LITERACY!  AAAAHHAAAAAHA!  OBVS.


Drexel Sign to Penn:

- AJ Drexel, the man who built Wall St.
- Wharton grads, the men who took it down

HIYO!  GET IT!?  'CAUSE ALL PENN KIDS ARE SILLY WHARTONS!

Penn to Drexel:

-Mario is a FLAMER

HIYO!  GET IT?!  'CAUSE THE DREXEL MASCOT IS A DRAGON!  HILARIOUS!  GAY JOKES! HIGH FIVES!


Drexel Chant to Penn:

Homo!
Phobic!

HIYO!  GET IT!?  'CAUSE WE'RE RETALIATING SINCE THEY CALLED MARIO GAY, BUT WE'RE ALSO SUBTLY CALLING THEM HOMOS!  TOUCHE!  HIGH FIVES!



You stay classy, Philadelphian college students.  You too, Dragondog.



Mario DragonDog Photo from: http://walkthiswayllc.wordpress.com/2008/10/31/halloween-pictures/

Happy Kahnoween!

In light of today being Halloween, plus in delight of architects who lived in Philly, I present to you my 2004 (2003??) Catholic University of America Architecture School Pumpkin Carving Contest Honorably Mentioned pumpkin featuring Louis I. Kahn. 

And yes, I DID use the dirty side of the pumpkin to my advantage.

Enjoy, you nerds.  Happy Halloween.

Clifton Phifer.

.

Ahhh, yes, Cliff Lee - the boogie man of Yankee fan dreams.

"In fact, if you listen close as you nestle in your bed tonight, you can probably hear him shutting someone out right now." New York Sports

Oh, is that because everyone in New York left the game early and was in bed before the game ended?  Is that what that means?

"All night, Section 407 in the upper deck was full of Phillies phans, all swaddled up in red on a chilly night. It looked like the section the team reserved for the players' families and friends. (To tell you how much the Yankees value the opposing team's fans, they put them next to the auxillary press box, as far away from home plate as you can get without actually being in Philadelphia.) In the top of the ninth inning, the section, that section, after an RBI single by Shane Victorino made the score 5-0, began chanting "Yankees Suck! Yankees Suck!" The Stadium crowd, with half the crowd gone and the other half depressed, didn't even respond. For a few seconds, it was all you could hear."

All I have to say is, Dear GOD Philadelphia - you are IN.CRED.IBLE.  Look at those Yankees, thinking that they are smiting you with a godawful nosebleed section.  And look at you responding with all your years of upbrining in the 700 level of the Vet.  You did good, Phillies fans.

And now, Clifton Phifer Lee.  On repeat.

Since We're All Doing It...

Phils.
In 7.
Senor Choochtopher Ruiz, MVP.

If i had any idea how to do a tilde (tilda? CRAP - swirly thing) on this mobile interwebs, i would. you know i would.

i cant even find the side carat, carot? WHATEVER!

good god, i need to fix my computer. i must be the only blogger who can go months without a computer and manage to stay psychologically sound (relatively speaking).

"IT'S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON, MOTHERFUCKERS"

"Gourds" by oskay

"I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I'm about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it's gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is—fucking fall. There's a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash."

Colin Nissan, I think love you. I think you might be making fun of me, but I think I love you, regardless. The roommates can tell you, when decor time comes in the apartment, I am a fiend. FIEND. Don't get in my way, I've got BINS of stuff crammed into closets under stairs. Don't ask me how much money I spent at the Christmas Tree Shops this weekend, either. I won't tell you, but just you wait, Spruce Street. It's gonna shine like South Philly at #12 come November 27th.

But back to fall. In years past, I've bought (BOUGHT!!) pine cones from Michael's. The dash of pine coney potpourri smell allows the female in me to permit this silly purchase. But this year, I smartened up and baked (BAKED!!) some pine cones freshly picked from the Jersey pine barrens (thanks, Jersey!!). And made (MADE!!) my own applesauce from scratch. Booyah, suckers. I can make applesauce and arrange some gourds.

Oh, that's right, domesticality. Consider the gauntlet thrown, bitches.

I Want To Kiss It!

A guy I know from high school currently works at UPS. Check out what he's shipping today(!!!):

High Apple Pie In The Sky Hopes

WHOOP, THERE GOES ANOTHER RUBBER TREE PLANT!

AND THE PHILS ARE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES AND I WON'T HAVE TO SEE ANOTHER BLACK TACO COMMERCIAL ON TBS!!!!!!!!!


Photo from the blog of the amazing Zoe Strauss.

An Open Letter To Television Commercials

Dear TBS,

I have had enough.

I used to LOVE guacamole.

I used to LOVE taco bell (a very long time ago, but still).

I indeed HAVE DirecTv.

I am going to SCREAM and throw a remote control through my own television if I see one more cotdamn commercial involving Hess Avocados, Black Tacos, and Fairy Fucking Fergie one more time.

Can we please get some new commercials up in this joint? I don't care if they are piss poor and shoddily thrown together, but I need new material. I have been dreaming nightmaring about Fergie feeding me tacos filled with guac from an elephant for days on end now. It has to stop. I don't want to see another Black Taco. I dont want to look at a Black Taco slideshow. I dont want photoshopping Black Tacos taking over the world. Too much.

I must inform you all, it's time to hop off the Blacktacobandwagon. Let's just continue on our way to Oregon on foot. It's better this way. Just watch out for those rattlesnake bites.

Less Black Taco.

More Children Dressed Up In Phanatic Costumes In Front Of Child-Eating Tigers (via phillyzoo twitters).

Sincerely,

Me

Oh, hello old friend! Oh, look at you, you're such a mess, you little blog, you.

you're all covered in dust and nobody's looked at you in months. poor thing, comb your hair. you look like you just rolled out of bed. frankly, you look a little like how i feel. let's agree to not channel courtney love, shall we?

it's been nearly a year since i moved back to the philly metropolitan area. almost to the date. september 20th, if i can recall correctly. so, hello year moving anniversary! let's reflect! hip hip hooray! reflection time! and what a perfect time for reflection, too, no? it's anniversary time, autumn equinox time, and i'm about to start 30 days of yoga at the Dhyana studios.

i was really excited about this yoga stuff for the past few days. really excited, until today. today, when i started to plan out my month of yoga classes in my google calendar. i've already noted three days where i'll have to do some home yoga practice in lieu of getting to a class. i've already noted that i can't possibly make ANY morning classes and still get to work on time. i've already planned a week of classes. and i'm about to cry. i'm completely overwhelmed. i'm worried that i can't do it. i'm worried that it'll hurt. i'm worried that my head will pound for days and i'll cry and won't be able to sleep and be totally exhausted and that the demons and toxins in my body will scream in agony as i exorcise them out with practice. i'd almost rather keep the crazy locked up behind bars in the cell of my body. strike that, i WOULD rather stay crazy and full of toxins; it's easier. i'm just that weak. but i've made the decision. i've told my friends. i can't not follow through now.

so naturally, i did the only thing that made sense and i googled it. read some other people's blogs about their bikram yoga 30 day journeys. it didn't make me feel better. i still have a headache. i still want to cry a little bit. i think i'm just going to go eat lunch instead. which stinks because i totally forgot my leftovers in the fridge at home. it's also particularly stupid of me because there were two options and they were both good (1. sam's market tomato pie or 2. palace at the ben chicken cashmere). boo. double boo.

actually, i lied. the only good thing about reading other people's blogs on 30-day bikram challenges are that those crazies were doing BIKRAM for a month. 100+ degree rooms filled with tough-as-nails teachers? screw that.

photo stolen from upi.com. whoops.

WE WIN!!

this is what watching the phils at my house is like:


"cole hamels, that's my boyfriennnnnd. shane victorino, that's my boyfriend. jayson werth, boyfriend." ticking off phillies boyfriends on her fingers, this bit comes from my mother, not my 20-something sister. her boyfriends are all hockey players.


seany bee: "wait... who's our shortstop?"
momma, poppa and me bee (in unison, because we do that): "jimmy rollins"
seany bee: "oh, i thought jroll was second base. who plays second base? OH! pat burrell!"
all other bees: "WHAT?! SEAN! BURRELL PLAYS IN LEFT FIELD! YOU'RE IN LEFT FIELD!"
immediate phone call to other brother bee: "yo, guess what sean just said..."
poppa bee: "i hate casual fans"


i should also note that for some reason, the phillies game was on the living room tv, the den tv, and the master bedroom tv. i should also note that none of the tvs are sync'ed together. there is roughly a 2-3 second delay from the living room tv to the den tv and another 2-3 seconds from the den to the bedroom. so while chase utley was hitting a homerun in one room, he hadn't yet been thrown a pitch in the other. so it started with a "GO GO GO GO GO BABY GO" in one room to "SHUT UP, SHUT UP! WE HAVEN'T SEEN ANYTHING YE---GOOO GOOO! THAT'S my boyfriend!" in the next. "see!? THIS is why baseball should be a family venture, Bee Family!" shouts little sean bee


"WHY ARE YOU SO HAPPY, OLD MAN!?! IT'S JUST A WALK!" - my mother yelling at an 80 year old man waving his rally towel and saggy arm on national television.


"elmo's got new shooooooooes! elmo's got new shoooooooooo-ooooooooooes" this has nothing to do with the phils, with the exception that both are red.


"yeah, you steal that ball from them bitchessss, ryan" - again, the queen bee

"asshole! learn to spell! did you see that sign? he had a sign, on tv, it said 'puck philly.' PUCK! it's a 'PH,' YOU MORON!" - queenie
[from the next room] "some PEople are TRYing to SLEEP here, MOM!" -sean

i don't write about sports. for many reasons. mainly because i am a girl. and girls are not allowed to write about sports. or, if you DO write about sports, you have to be REALLY REALLY well-versed in sports. i am not well-versed in sports. i just love philly. and their sports teams. sans the sixers, but that's mostly just because i am too short to play bball and there was a scarring event in the first grade that i'd rather not get into involving that bright orange bouncing ball.

but ANYWAY. when i was in DC, i never wrote about sports. maybe that is because DC sports are sucky, i don't know. but now that i am in philadelphia, i simply can not not comment on the action that is going on right now.



the phils! are going! to the world series! duh, you knew that. what you don't know is that the last time this happened, i was in FOURTH grade. everything is glorious when you are in fourth grade. the city was excited and they threw a cap on Billy and everybody got even more excited, but you know how the story ends. then later, in seventh grade, the flyers went to the stanley cup. my dad took the whole beehive downtown and we all signed the flyers jersey that they dressed Billy up in. and you know how that story ends too.



so this year, philly says NO.
no more gimmicks.
no more crazy, stupid, shenanigans.
no more dressing billy up for halloween.



we're going to try something different this time. THIS YEAR, we're going to build a building bigger than any other building, including the building that started this whole curse shebang in the first place. AND, at our Topping Off Party, we're going to put a NEW Billy Penn up there, so that Bill is rightfully back on top. TAKE THAT, One Liberty Plaza. TAKE THAT, Dodgers. TAKE THAT, World!



so, the story remains untold, as of yet. but maybe, just maybe, Philly has found itself a new two foot tall good luck charm.

i find myself here - three, three, and three. three weeks, three days, into phase three.

job, family, friends, all seemingly coming together. it's like i never left - mom does my laundry, dad cooks, i take the train, i still get bored at work... only difference is that i've cut out all that idle blogging and dcist commenting to nearly zilch on the company clock. i guess you should do that at new jobs, while you're still on probationary period. or something.

which is good for career, bad for blogging.

so my sincerest apologies, darling readers. if you have given up in the past three weeks, hopefully you all have RSS feeds.

i promise, i'll write something of vague substance tomorrow. i have been watching the train conductor try to hey-girl-hey a train rider for the past three weeks. nothing like a little R2 train romance to breathe some life back into this bee.

jane jacobs knows cities. it was kind of her thing. jane jacobs didn't love DC the way she loved philly or new york. people live here, work here, play here. people spend their lives here and they die here. there are cafes next to churches and apartments and hardware stores. sure, people live and die in DC, but it's different. DC is a fake city with a fake vibrance. everyone has an agenda. and the ones without agendas in DC hate the ones that do. every city has its corruption, but DC wallows in it. but philly? philly loves cheese steaks, rocky balboa, and the phils. who could possibly be a hater?

philadelphia is my home. welcome back to the city of brotherly love, the city that loves you back, where it's more fun to sleep over. (and it's always more fun to sleep over).

welcome to my foundation, my existence, my core creation, my attitude. welcome, my friends, to the b-side.

no one stands on the left and stops in the middle of the sidewalk to take a picture of the Disney-Chinatown arch. Well, maybe they do; but at least this chinatown has that real, dirty fishy smell of a chinatown that has, you know, chinese restaurants and bubble tea. and the best damn dimsum in the city is actually IN the city, not out in bethesda.

the coozery, i'm sure, will continue...


so with that, here i am.

new beginnings.
new name.
new layout.
new... me?