Philadelphia Freedom, I lo-o-o-ve you. Yes, I do.

I didn't mean to lie to you. Honest I didn't. I walked into the hotel room--which, I have to say, is bigger than my first apartment--and there it was sitting at the end of the living room like Buddah with its legs crossed: an internet terminal.

I wasn't going to turn it on. I swear I wasn't, except that my Visor did something bad while on the train so I truly truly had to look up an address on the wwweb. (If you pretend I'm saying that with a stutter, it's much funnier.)

Philadelphia has been fun. It's run-down in a lot of parts, but the signage is great in the downtown area; good walking downtown. Apparently they've changed the city motto from "The city of brotherly love" to "The city that loves you back." Whatever. I guess the latter is supposed to be more friendly, but I'm not so sure I want Philly to love me back.

Today is one of those days when I'm glad I eat meat. You see, I went to the Reading Terminal Market for breakfast and ate at what appeared to be an Amish lunch counter called the Dutch Eating Place; I ordered eggs and sausage, and the sausage rocked.

There's a gourmet cookware stand, and if it had been at home, or if the darned thing hadn't been so heavy, I would have purchased the Le Creuset Pumpkin casserole. It's not really pumpkin colored--except that it's that as well--it's pumpkin shaped. I don't know exactly what I'd do with an enameled cast-iron pmupkin-shaped pan but I wanted it. Wanting, as they say, is the important part.

before - after