Getting out of New York for the weekend was just as refreshing as I thought it would be. Cade and I left Manhattan around eight Friday night, cut across New Jersey, and made it to Philadelphia in about two hours. We stayed in an Olde City house that Cade’s dad owns. One of the apartments - a three floor spread that would be preposterously expensive in New York - is currently inhabited by Noah, one of Cade’s college friends. The first night in Philadelphia, I tripped across the cobbled streets with Cade, carrying bags and water. As in any place worth going to, parking spaces around the city are hard to come by. Fortunately, Cade and I can handle long treks between parked transportation and ultimate destination.
On Saturday morning, Cade, Noah, Jill (Noah’s girlfriend), and I had a mediocre breakfast at a diner. The early meal initiated some awkward encounters that would later play out between Noah and Jill. Cade and I walked around that morning to admire daffodils, cherry blossoms, and the parking ticket Cade intends to appeal. The joys of city life!
The car was moved. Showers were taken. The sky opened up and dumped rain just in time for the Phillies vs. Red Sox game we were given tickets to. I wasn’t thrilled about going to the game, but the weather cleared up and Cade and I had a chance to talk and make fun of the Phillies mascot. Noah and Jill had a tiff over Noah’s not waiting for Jill when they went to the concession stand.
The day got better when Cade and I left the bickerers and went off by ourselves to walk around again. We laughed, idly strolled, pet strangers’ dogs, squatted in flower beds, and even had Dairy Queen. It was wonderful - and I mean everything and definitely the soft serve ice cream. (I refuse to go to Mister Softee for soft serve ice cream here in NYC, as it sounds like the name of a cartoon mascot for a toilet paper brand).
I know Cade took some really great pictures on Noah’s camera over the weekend, and I’ll share them as soon as I get them from him. In the meantime, I’ll commence the sharing of pictures from my camera.
Saturday night, our posse ate brick oven pizza at Pietro’s, which was very pleasantly reminiscent of Lombardi’s, got drinks at Mad River, and then Cade and I stopped somewhere to get another slice of pizza. We eat entirely too much of that stuff. Everyone passed out upon returning back to the apartment. Jill was intoxicated and crying, because Cade and I didn’t dance at Mad River. I did musical theater, woman! I dance with my shoulders and it isn’t cool at all. It was an out-of-towners kind of attack. I felt somewhat stereotypically pigeonholed as a stiff, sarcastic New Yorker, and of course, relished every second of it.
Sunday, everyone woke up early to go to Washington, D.C. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. En route Jill’s bowels began to act up (yes, you read that right) and all kinds of hilarity and squabbling ensued. “NOAH!!!!” she screamed. “I HAVE TO POOP!” I think she started saying this in Delaware or Maryland, at least half an hour before she was able to go. At first she was amused, but this soon became utter indisposal and discomfort.
Parking was hard to find, of course, but Jill refused to jump out of the car to use a bathroom and then get picked up later. Noah finally found a parking spot and Jill huffily hoofed it, butt clenched tightly, to the Smithsonian. Where else to deposit such a noteworthy fecal antique? 
Cade and I laughed and waited outside. Noah was back in the doghouse. Jill wasn’t laughing anymore.
The spats were so ridiculous that they gave the weekend a Honeymooners feel, though I doubt Noah and Jill will ever really honeymoon. Such constant melodrama, no matter how hysterically scatalogical it is, must get old. I mention the silly arguments between Noah and Jill, because they served as a juxtaposition between how Cade and I acted. (Surprisingly, because we focused on doing our own thing and enjoying everything around us, the tension between Noah and Jill didn’t really affect me). This weekend was supposed to be a test to see how badly Cade and I would get on each other’s nerves. I have to report that as of today, we continue to like each other. More.
Cade and I trailed far behind Noah and Jill outside and spent some time at the Smithsonian. I have to reiterate that the weather was perfect. I actually wore short sleeves outside for the first time since October. Wowie.
The coolest thing: Our group ended up at a hoity toity Georgetown eatery to have dessert. I don’t know whose idea this was, for Cade and I would have been happy buying a popsicle from a street vendor. Alas. Cade and I ordered some pretentious chocolate/cappucino/rare Bavarian carrot sauce dessert and didn’t recognize it when the waiter placed it before us. It was truly exquisite - kind of thimble-like with a small glass sculpture stuck into its powdery chocolate top. It could have been a building from the NYC skyline.
“I was thinking more of a Reese’s peanut butter cup,” Cade deadpanned. We learned that the modernist “glass” sculpture was actually an artistic sugar crystal. This didn’t stop Cade, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of ever liking status dining and haughty food service, from pretending to slit his wrists with it, pompous environment be damned!
Now that’s a boy after my own heart right there.
Oh no you DIDN’T make fun of the Philly Phanatic!?!?!?!
I’d stop reading this blog as a sign of protest, but your msadventures are far too funny to give up at this point.
But how could you not love that mascot?!?! Up here we (the Mariners) have a moose that rides around on a 4-wheeler in the outfield.
[yawn]
Sounds like Jill might make a funny mascot, though. I wonder if she might want to come to Seattle and bitch between innings for entertainment purposes. I reckon I’d pay $40 to park my car outside of Safeco Field to see that spectacle, win or lose.