I am an East Coast expatriate hiding out in the Midwest...
I am an urban gal living in the suburbs and occasionally hiding in the country
I am a yoga practitioner, fitness enthusiast, believer in the mind-body-spirit connection...
I am a mid-life "revert" to the Roman Catholic faith in which I was raised and which has become an enormous source of support, encouragement, inspiration, and joy in my life...
I am a mom, sister, daughter, and wife...
I am an explorer; adventurous and curious about the world and people around me...
I am educated in the formal sense but I gain insight through everyday living...
I created this blog at a time of great fear and apprehension in my life. I chose to sustain it because of the discoveries about myself and the world around me that it has revealed.
What you can expect to find here:
the documentation of a love-hate relationship with the greater Philadelphia area
reminiscing about the good-ole-days (the 80's!)
complaints about my various ailments and injuries, both real and imagined
pictures and stories of gardening, decorating, shopping, sewing
I'm on a total Philly kick (which is morphing into a "why-I-don't-live-in-Philly" kick...) with my entries so I thought I'd keep this train wreck stumbling forward.
My brother-in-law works at a Philadelphia TV network affiliate station. His wife, my sister, sent me this clip of a competitor station who had the wise-acre idea to air their own home-grown morning talk show with sub-par on-air talent.
Many local stations have similar offerings these days. In fact, back in the 70's and 80's Philly had some interesting shows, including "Dialing For Dollars" with the late, great Jim O'Brien. I'll have to expound on the Local Talk Show Theme in a future post.
On one level, I can sympathize with the blushing Lori Wilson, because naivete isn't a malevolent quality; but in this case, it's a hilarious one!
The scene: the show hosts are talking about mis-heard lyrics. Unfortunately for Lori, some dopey producer typed-up a viewer comment that should not have been aired:
While searching for my beloved IDEAL jingle, I came across yet another iconic series of retro-Philadelphia tv commercials. These are beyond precious for the use of South Philly skanks, er, ladies of all shapes, sizes, and hair-dye brands as "spokemodels" for a pseudo-swanky men's clothing store.
Check out the gal in the yellow dress on the right - BABY GOT BACK!!! "hot damn!"
Mmm, now they are in bikinis...
Look at the COIFFURES!!!Better yet, check out the tipsy blonde, second from the left.
Since the title of my blog is Philly Expatriate, I think its about time I do a bit of reminiscing, Delaware Valley-style!
As a kid, prior to cable television, the few children's shows besides Captain Kangaroo and Sesame Street appeared on UHF stations. These same stations also broadcast a large portion of their commercials for local businesses.
One shop, based in South Jersey, not far from Atlantic City, ran an iconic commercial with an absolutely unforgettable jingle. It was for IDEAL - at the time, a discount clothing store for women that was housed in (no joke) a Quonset Hut! I wish someone would post the actual film/video that accompanies the jingle, because in the haze of my memory, I recall rather glamourous-looking models hauling down the road in rather large tail-finned automobiles, presumably on their way to shop for polyester pants suits in the tent-store.
It's not a fancy salon - its nothing but a Quonset hut - but! If you've got a passion for fashion, and you've got a craving for saving, Take the wheel of your automobile and swing on down to...IDEAL!
As per usual with my luck these days, my "day of relaxation" was not particularly relaxing.
First off, apparently the coffee, guarana, green tea and kola nut in my body wrap yesterday injected enough caffeine into my system that I slept horribly last night. (But, on the positive side, my thights DID look much firmer!)
Then I dragged my overly-tired arse to yoga this morning and could barely do half of the "exercises" the Yogi had in mind for us today. We were ALL moaning and groaning doing these torturous "toning' exercises for stomach and hips...not a "namaste" feeling radiating from me after that!
Finally, I went for my facial at the spa, and began to explain to the technician that my skin was uncharacteristically dry and chapped in areas - a combo of wind burn/cold dry air, and over-use of benzoil-peroxide-based products for breakout prevention. She would no sooner apply a product - even if it was labeled for "sensistive skin" - and it would begin to burn into my skin like some sort of etching acid! Yeow! She kept trying a product then resort to wiping it off when it would burn. So I left the spa with little improvement in the appearance and texture of my skin. At least the arm/should/neck massage was successful.
...because tomorrow I'm partaking of my THIRD spa treatment THIS WEEK.
Well, I justify such (relative) extragance this way:
1.) It has been one of the most brutal Chicagoland winters in recent memory, in terms of amount/frequency of snow. And if its not snowing, then temps are usually hovering in the single-digits - teens if we are lucky. Last week I wrecked my back and arse twice shovelling heavy, slushy snow. THIS weekend I fell three times on the ice slick also known as our driveway. I am just plain old BEAT UP at this point!
2.) My spousal unit neglected to celebrate St. Valentine's Day by purchasing an extravagant Day At The Spa for his wife...so I'm buying it for him/me...just one-day-at-a-time.
3.) We got our tax refund. THANK HEAVEN for electronic filing and direct deposit!
My green coffee body wrap was so wonderful today. I had never been to this particular spa/salon, even though I have walked past it in my hometown many times. I am certainly glad I indulged today, because they have a lovely facility, reasonable prices, and one of the more extensive treatment menus that I've seen.
This Lent, I am all about "detox" - both physically and mentally. As I mentioned before, I gave up coffee and have really not indulged much in wine. I also need to cut WAY back on sweets, which has been tough since my daughter's Brownie troop just delivered all their cookie orders (and of course we bought some of those delicious caloric time bombs...)
Tomorrow I am scheduled for an herbal detox wrap at a local spa. I've been looking for one that used ingredients besides seaweed, because I am wary about indulging in idodine-based products since I have a shellfish allergy. I found an intriguing wrap that is reasonably priced and penciled my appointment into my calendar.
However, now I am wondering:
Is it considered "cheating" on my Lenten de-caffeination if I undergo a Green Coffee Body Wrap?
Last week I began a Monday morning scripture class through my church.
Hey - you there, stop shaking your head! YES Catholics DO read the Bible! So now you know!
Anyway...
The class is lead by the young and energetic Father Steve and (not to denounce any "other" Bible studies) it really has the feel of a college-level literature class. Althought the study guides have the stamp of approval from the Church, they really delve into aspects of the particular verses including literary style, imagery, linguistics, art/cultural references, historical setting and more. My point is that this study is less about indoctrination and more about learning the specifics of one book and how it ties in with our understanding of other messages and imagery (and overall theology(ies) ) we have learned through the years in the other books. We are studying the Book of Wisdom and are learning of the tie-ins the author uses that meld both Greek and Hebrew culture of its era.
Since it is Presidents' Day, I will be taking my daughter along to class; she's bringing her own books - likely a new "American Girl" novel and a "My Weird School" installment to keep her occupied.
After class, we head to a neighboring 'burb to indulge in Mom & Daughter PEDICURES at a spa that has services for children (and is also reasonable priced). We have appointments, so I don't forsee a huge mob scene on this non-school day. After our Spa treat, we will go out to lunch, although it's currently a toss-up between crapple, er, APPLEBEE'S and Red Robin. After the announcement of the huge beef recall, though, I'm inclined to shy away from a burger-specialty place.
Later this afternoon, I take her to her Yoga Kids class, which she has been enjoying immensely. Kids don't seem to have the same hangups about chanting OM at the end of their sessions the way some of us suburbanite ladies do!
So today is a Mom-Daughter-Mind-Body-Spirit day...So Our Father, Om Shanti and all that good stuff...
Friday mornings, I usually manage to pry my arse away from the wonderful world of the internet in order to make my rounds as a Eucharistic Minister to homebound senior citizens.
Yesterday, as I was about to leave, I noticed that...my car was gone! But then I looked around and noticed hubby's car was in the driveway. I made a quick call to his office and learned that he apparently intented to telepathically inform me that he needed an oil change and could I take his car in to the Jiffy Lube?
Grr. I was in NO mood. I only had enough patience and goodwill in my emotional arsenal yesterday to cover Ministering, NOT to include errands in the Chevy-I-Hate-To-Drive-Because-It-Handles-Really-Strangely.
"Agh. I'll just take the van," I noted to him, and hung up.
I first headed to church to get some blessed host from the tabernacle (which, mind you, is under lock and key...I have to go through a PROCEDURE in order to procure the wafers.)Then I drive to the home of whomever is on my visit schedule. As I was turning right onto a busier 4-lane street, some goofy macho jerk in a snowplow barrels down the road, and looks like he's going to run right into me. I step on the gas and get the Rockin' Van hauling its blue shiny self down the boulevard...only to spy a cop hiding on a side street as I pass by. He turns onto the street, behind me,and after some hesitation, puts on his flashers. D*MN!!!!
This is the SECOND time I have gotten a speeding ticket while having Communion as my passenger!!! Needless to say, I became even grumpier, now that I'd be flushing $115 down the drain to keep it off my record.
What is is about Jesus, me and the gas pedal that keeps getting me in trouble?
On Monday, I was grocery shopping and saw this in the lot and had to snap a pic with my cameraphone.
I giggled in large part because this vanity tag was on a freakin' ESCALADE! I wonder what the Magi in a pimped-out V-8 ride would have brought to the baby King? I wonder if THEY would have gotten a ticket as they sped home, away from Herod, across the desert.
Living in the Chicago area, the news of the tragic events yesterday at Northern Illinois University are inescapable.
Since giving up coffee for Lent, I HAD been sleeping beautifully but last night, my slumber was fitful.
I thought about how difficult it must be for a parent to send a child away to school, AS IS...and these days, those parent-child milestones are compounded by the reality that random acts of violence and terrorism occur far too often in our communities.
When I was in college, a deranged woman attempted to poision and otherwise cause harm to a number of students on my campus before she walked into a local grade school and opened fire, shooting and killing a young child ad wounding others. Prior to that, when I was in high school, I had asked my mom for a ride to the mall. Fortunately for me, she stated that she had too much work to do preparing the house and my sisters' cosutmes for Halloween. That afternoon, another deranged woman walked into the mall and randomly shot and killed a number of innocent shoppers, one of whom was the obstetrician that delivered me as a baby!
Related to those thoughts, yesterday in the mail, I received a Girl Scout camp catalogue that I requested from our council office. My daughter and I went through the offerings together and she selected a 3-day, 2-night overnight camp expereince that she'd like to try this summer. I am wholly supportive of her learning and expressing independence, and to have the opportunity to camp with girls her age from all over our region. I just don't know how I'll manage on the drive there or for the following days. I think it will be the longest three days I've ever lived.
(Note: I posted this true story as an entry to another website's contest; but I thought it so appropriate for Valentines Day, I had to reproduce it here.)
When I was a high school teen, my family lived near a small liberal arts college. I occasionally attended concerts and dances at the college for some social opportunity (I attended a private all-girls school many miles from home.)
I had become casual friends with one sweet freshman boy, Russ, and never though much of our acquaintanceship beyond the platonic, which was largely based on our mutual interest in certain rock bands of the era.
One morning, while getting ready for school, I heard my parents yelling in an accusatory tone at my little sisters.
"Who put that there? Did you ever plan on cleaning it up," was the line of questioning. Through their tears my sisters denied any wrongdoing.
I made my way downstairs to assess the commotion.
My mother explained to me that there were "flowers all over the front walk with your name on it."
"You mean, like a bouquet," I asked.
"No, they were those little white flowers picked off the bushes," she fumed.
I didn't really understand. My mom huffed and took it upon herself to clear the debris from the front walk with a push broom, and we went about our business for the day, never again thinking about the "flowery litter."
Some weeks later, I happened to be talking to my college pal.
"Hey, so, um, did you get my flowers," he asked shyly.
I was confused. "What? No. I mean, what flowers?"
My freshman friend pressed on, "Um, they said 'Hi' and spelled out your name."
"Um, hang on a minute..."
I ran downstairs to mom, while my poor friend waited on the phone line.
"Mom, did anyone send me flowers? Russ said he sent flowers with my name in them."
Mom pondered the question, and then realized what happened.
"Oh, remember that mess on the front walk a few weeks ago? I think that is what he's talking about! So HE did that? Oh, now I feel badly for yelling at your sisters..."
I ran back upstairs to my room to verify the information with Russ.
"Yeah," he confirmed, I was up late studying and decided to walk up to your street. I picked those flowers and spelled out the message so you would see it from your bedroom window. I hope you didn't get in trouble!"
I chuckled, both from the flattery and irony of the situation. "No," I explained, "I wasn't in trouble but my sisters were!"
I reassured him that it was a truly sweet gesture but I think he was still deflated knowing his artwork of petals met the dim fate of a pushbroom!
When I was a high school teen, my family lived near a small liberal arts college. I occasionally attended concerts and dances at the college for some social opportunity (I attended a private all-girls school many miles from home.)
I had become casual friends with one sweet freshman boy, Russ, and never though much of our acquaintanceship beyond the platonic, which was largely based on our mutual interest in certain rock bands of the era.
One morning, while getting ready for school, I heard my parents yelling in an accusatory tone at my little sisters.
"Who put that there? Did you ever plan on cleaning it up," was the line of questioning. Through their tears my sisters denied any wrongdoing.
I made my way downstairs to assess the commotion.
My mother explained to me that there were "flowers all over the front walk with your name on it."
"You mean, like a bouquet," I asked.
"No, they were those little white flowers picked off the bushes," she fumed.
I didn't really understand. My mom huffed and took it upon herself to clear the debris from the front walk with a push broom, and we went about our business for the day, never again thinking about the "flowery litter."
Some weeks later, I happened to be talking to my college pal.
"Hey, so, um, did you get my flowers," he asked shyly.
I was confused. "What? No. I mean, what flowers?"
My freshman friend pressed on, "Um, they said 'Hi' and spelled out your name."
"Um, hang on a minute..."
I ran downstairs to mom, while my poor friend waited on the phone line.
"Mom, did anyone send me flowers? Russ said he sent flowers with my name in them."
Mom pondered the question, and then realized what happened.
"Oh, remember that mess on the front walk a few weeks ago? I think that is what he's talking about! So HE did that? Oh, now I feel badly for yelling at your sisters..."
I ran back upstairs to my room to verify the information with Russ.
"Yeah," he confirmed, I was up late studying and decided to walk up to your street. I picked those flowers and spelled out the message so you would see it from your bedroom window. I hope you didn't get in trouble!"
I chuckled, both from the flattery and irony of the situation. "No," I explained, "I wasn't in trouble but my sisters were!"
I reassured him that it was a truly sweet gesture but I think he was still deflated knowing his artwork of petals met the dim fate of a pushbroom!