In a few minutes, I am going to be leaving to go over to Shane Ross and John Lin's house in Pasadena for a St. Patrick's Day gathering of sorts. I'm really tired at the moment, not surprisingly. A three day trip to the east coast can make one quite tired. I got home about 2:30 last night...I went right to sleep and slept right through my alarm, and woke up too late to go to my first class. Not that I really missed much, as that class is more or less a waste of my time..."Health Concerns of the Adolescent"...complete waste of time.

Anyway, last night saw the occurrence of one of the more bizarre events of my life. I was sitting on the plane waiting to depart from St. Louis (where I'd had to change planes.) While I'm sitting there making small talk with the girl next to me, I see this guy walk by and I thought, "That looks like Jeff Marcus." Jeff Marcus is a friend of mine from high school with whom I had lost touch. I'm fairly certain I haven't spoken to him since graduation ten years ago. Anyway, the person went past me to the back of the plane and I more or less forgot about him for the rest of the flight. While waiting at the baggage claim at LAX, however, I saw him again and this time he saw me and, sure enough, it was him. Honestly, what are the chances that somebody I haven't seen in ten years would be on the same flight as me from St. Louis to Los Angeles? The funny thing is, he wasn't originally supposed to be on that plane, but he had missed a connecting flight to San Diego so he had opted for a flight to LA instead. Quite strange, indeed.

Well, my weekend on the other side of the country was not too eventful, as most of it was spent in a conference room. In case you are wondering why I was there, I am going to Kosovo again this summer. This time, however, I am the trip leader so I had to go to a training and info session. They had originally had one scheduled for Phoenix, but they didn't have enough people sign up, so I had to go to Philadelphia instead. There was one guy there from Oregon, but everybody else was from Pennsylvania. The training ended Saturday and I had purposefully scheduled my return flight for late Sunday evening so I could explore the city. I left the hotel Sunday morning, catching a ride with the director of World Servants to the airport. I got my boarding pass and checked my baggage. I think the security people were a little wary of me because I was checking my bag about ten hours before my flight, but they didn't hassle me too much. When I got home, I could tell that my bag had been thoroughly searched.

At any rate, I took the bus from the airport into the city and began my little walking tour, heading down Market Street toward Independence National Park. I must say that it takes away from the inherent beauty of national monuments when they are surrounded by barricades, security guards and metal detectors. But, I understand the reasoning behind all of it. I stood in line and got through the security and then went to look at the Liberty Bell. I'd seen the Liberty Bell once before in 1981 or so. In my mind, it's more of a historical novelty item than anything else. Seeing the bell didn't fill me with an overwhelming sense of national pride. However, when I took the tour of Independence Hall and stood in the very room in which the Declaration of Independence had been agreed upon on July 2, 1776 (not July 4, strangely enough) and in which, 11 years later, the Constitution had been drafted, I couldn't help but feel that spark of patriotism. To stand there in the same room where George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, James Madison, John Adams, et. al., had spent days coming up with that document...it was quite moving.

From Independence Hall, it is just a short walk over to Washington Square and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier of the American Revolution (not to be confused with the tomb at Arlington National Cemetary). It was strange to learn that Washington Square was built on top of the graves of thousands of soldiers killed during the British occupation of Philadelphia. Additionally, prior to the Revolution, the land had been used as a burial ground for blacks, both free and enslaved.

I left Washington Square and wandered down 7th until I came to South Street. On the way, I passed several brownstone homes. I really like those homes...the three to four story single family homes. They are tall and skinny and really have no yard to speak of. Seeing all these homes and the cobble stone streets of course invoked my natural reaction that springs up almost anytime I visit a city. I'm speaking, of course, of the "I want to live here" reaction. I pictured myself living in one of those brownstone homes and going to the little parks that are dispersed throughout the neighborhoods. When I got home, I decided to check on housing prices, just out of curiosity, and saw that those brownstones sell, on the average, in the mid 200s. Considering that one can barely even purchase a two bedroom townhouse here for less than 275, it seems like a pretty good deal. Of course, I probably will never move there as I doubt that I would be able to endure the harsh winters.

I also did a bit of research among the locals to find out where I could get the best Philly Cheese Steak. Now, residents of Pennsylvania are somewhat passionate about the notion that it is impossible to make a decent cheese steak sandwich outside of Philadelphia. What they base this on, I'm not entirely certain, as it's really just, well, cheese and steak. But, they are incredibly passionate about it so I decided to find the best one.

As it turns out, there is an ongoing debate in the city about whether Pat's or Geno's makes the best. These two places are directly across the street from each other on 9th, just south of the Italian Market. Well, I didn't have the time or the stomach to sample both of them, so I opted for Pat's since they are, supposedly, the place where it was invented. I ordered mine with mushrooms, onions, and provolone (it's supposed to be really good if you order it with Cheese Whiz, but I decided against that course of action) and, overall, I have to say that the sandwich was quite good. But...I really don't see the big deal. It tasted just like every other cheese steak sandwich I've ever had. It had cheese, and it had steak. Those Philadelphia residents take their cheese steak too seriously.

After eating, I quickly swung by Carpenter's Hall, which was the meeting sight of the first Continental Congress, then caught a bus to the airport, arriving there at about 5:00 for my flight which left at 6:56. All in all, it was a great day. I really must make a visit back to that area some day when I will have a chance to see more. For now, I must go off to Pasadena.