Love Philadelphia Style and the couch saga

Craig and I and Max celebrated Valentine's Day at Reading Terminal Market, a historical farmers market in downtown Philadelphia. We went looking for Delilah's Soul food stand after seeing an episode of Bobby Flay's "Throw Down" show. Delilah's mac and cheese was voted "Best in America" by Oprah, until Bobby Flay took her down with his own version complete with pancetta. But some how we got sidetracked by an array of different stands, and Craig got a spicy sausage something from a New Orleans stand and I shared a roasted turkey, mashed potato and cranberry sauce plate with Max. (It's crazy how we can order Max food!!!) In the center of the market, a preacher married about 8 couples in front of a curious crowd and a slew of TV cameras.

Craig and I have managed to make it through another week with a few ups and downs, but we are surviving. This week was about our couch, which finally arrived and low and behold is the wrong proportion for our apartment. It looks like it belongs in a Soho loft or in a sleek modern house overlooking the ocean in Malibu with a David Hockney hanging in the background. Certainly not for an apartment with a one year old baby who is Mr. Stain central. The couch is a sectional, the color is off white and it is BIG. Oh and it was a floor sample, so it is basically non returnable...although we maybe able to return it for credit. So Craig and I laugh momentarily as we see our new member of our family being hosted on top of the elevator (not in because the couch can't fit in the elevator).

and then our laughter turns to panic, and then to blaming each other. "You chose that store" says he, "Well you chose the sectional" says I.

Later when we have calmed down we see different possibilities of how to move the couch. We sit down on it. Maybe it's not so bad. We tuck away our panic for a while, which may come back later in a new wave but for now we're o.k.

I wonder how President Obama and First Lady Michelle are doing? Did the stress of moving into the White house affect them? It's a good thing Craig and I aren't in office. The couch really paralyzed us there for a moment.

imissla.com

I miss L.A. it's not that Philly is a horrible place. Really its perfectly fine here. I've met some really wonderful moms and very nice people. I live in a beautiful neighborhood. Besides the day I was pick pocketed at Di Bruno Brother's on Walnut Street, and the night Max was hospitalized (yes again!) with a second virus, life has been going o.k. But I have the blues. Strange blues, blues that I can't figure out, or how to cure.

I think I miss L.A. My blog greetingsfromla.com documented my life in that strange but wonderful land called Los Angeles. I wanted to live in L.A. from the time I was ten years old. That's because I went to visit my aunt and uncle who lived in a huge and gorgeous house in Hancock Park, with an equally massive backyard complete with a Spanish tiled pool and surrounded by exotic flowers. They had a gardner, a cleaning lady and two nannies. They had a HUGE kitchen and lots of food in the cabinets and Tropicana orange juice in the fridge door (a big deal for me because my mom was anti store bought juice)Despite the cupboards filled to the brim with goodies, my aunt and uncle ate out at Spago's and casually brought in piles of shrimp to the house. My aunt took me shopping at Fred Siegals and the Guess store on Rodeo. One night we ate pizza in the outdoor hot tub and drank fizzy apple juice. Let me tell you it was nothing like my life back home. At the time my family lived in the very un-glamourous Twin Rivers, NJ. So this trip left an everlasting impression on my ten year old brain. Even now when I think about L.A. I conjour up an image of that house in Hancock Park, which in later years was sold to Ellen Degenerous and Anne Heche.

So my six years in L.A. didn't yield the house in Hancock Park, but I met my husband and had my baby there and generally have a load of wonderful memories. The sun nearly always shined. Even on my worst days in L.A. there was Runyon Canyon to hike or an ice coffee to be had at the Country canyon store. So there you have it, while there are real problems in the word, I have a bad case of "feel-sorry-for-myself-blues" I'll try to find some adventures here in Philadelphia, or at least enjoy myself.