Independence Hall

"Hi. I'd like a hot italian sausage sandwich...oh, you're out? Okay, the sweet italian sausage then. Um, okay, how about a meatball sub? No? Uh, cheeseburger? No, okay...is that because you're out of cheese, or out of- oh, out of burgers, I see. Got any provolone?..."





It was a pretty good turkey sandwich I guess.

We're tourists!

We hung out with the Philly V.I.P.s

For Paul and Job on their birthdays...

...a picture from the glory days.

Ask any Philadelphia resident where to get a good cheesesteak,

and he or she is sure to have an opinion- a strong opinion. Pat's and Geno's are just a quick walk accross Passyunk Ave. from each other, and their bright neon signs are visible far into the city.




Our conference offered busses each night for a late night Geno's run so that we could finally learn what a "wiz with" was (steak sandwich drowning in cheez wiz with onions). I ordered clumsily, like only an outsider could, one cheesesteak provolone-with. I tried to order a drink at the same time, which was annoying to the workers in the steak-only window, but they forgave me because I'm white (more on that in a second). We received all of our food, and settled into our little booth, finally to taste this holy grail of Philly fare. It tasted just like the Phillys I've been eating for years at Chili's, but on much tastier bread.

After eating, we had a little time to peruse the scores of pictures with celebrity cheesesteak aficionados, and read some of Geno's signage. The building is plastered with such gems as "Stay if you're legal, if you're illegal LEAVE!", and "This is America, when ordering, do so in ENGLISH!" Lovely. Ah, the City of Brotherly Love.



After we ate, we ran over to Pat's. They had slighltly more on their menu, perhaps to compensate for their lack of oh-so-catchy racist bumperstickers, and a plaque commemorating the spot on which ol' Rocky the slugger himself had stood during the filming of at least one of his fourteen or so films. Being that it was nearly midnight, I did not want to try eating a second cheesesteak, so I cannot give a food review. I did, though, prefer the atmosphere at Pat's. The giant neon sandwich on the apex of Geno's freaked me out a little.

Highlights from Lancaster, PA

Winona took the day off to slave in the kitchen for us.



We toured the town and its sights before dinner.












I especially enjoyed coming and going through the fire escape. Both Winona and Nicole have very cool apartments with crown molding, interestingly shaped windows, and second level patios, apartments that would never be found in California. It was a very enjoyable visit- thanks for everything!

Wanted!!!

The Cherry Girl Gang are often seen lurking the streets of Lancaster posing as nice Mennonite girls, throwing signs and searching for coin fueled by bellies full of homemade bread and apple cake. They are presumed to be dangerous, and may shank you if provoked.

We had quite a bit of car time

Who'll trade their wheat? I really, really need some wheat.

This isn't a particularly good shot, but I would be remiss not to include it among my vacation shots considering that it is how we spent the bulk of our non-driving time.

The Rock

On Monday, I got the Castleton tour, which included a deliciously greasy Birdseye Burger. It was fun to see where all of my old letters had arrived, and to drive up to the old Tate Estate. These, sadly, are the only pictures that I took, but I now have an album to go along with the countless stories I've heard of this great place to have grown up.

Happy St Nicholas Day!

I hope that your shoes are overflowing, and they loved your pirouline church

Burlington

Of all of the Vermont towns that I've visited, Burlington is the most like California. The east coast is very pretty, and I've nothing bad to say of it, but it just seems so incredibly foreign to me, with its maple and Amish. Church Street, though, reminds me a lot of Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, except it's less crowded, and shoppers have a smaller chance of getting shanked. Oh, and you won't find culture like this in the Promenade mall:

Vermont chased me away with falling snow,

but it also warmed and woke me on the way.

This detailed bust

which is housed within the Albany airport, is made of phone books.

Albany, NY

I was joined in my first stint of airport time killing by these little birds which somehow found their way into the B6 terminal. They were flying around and pecking the ground, and no one else seemed to even notice.

Dear Public:

The airport people-mover is not a ride. Go!