Yael & Estee
Originally uploaded by Pookah.
So I managed to leave you at breakfast on Friday, May 12th. I know how you hang on to my every word, so you must be hyperventilating by now, panting out, "Must read blog entry, must have more...!"
So outside of my little dream world... That Friday was very unproductive. I drank a lot of coffee, and did all those mandatory visits. The Committee of Seventy still functions without me, and Tyler still manages to flake out on his appointments. Vince was a no-show, and the visit with the Archives staff was short. All in all, I was able to say hello to almost everyone I wanted to see, and that was important and gratifying.
Yet the highlight of the afternoon was lunch at The Magic Carpet food truck in that little food truck haven on 34th & Walnut Streets. If you haven't gone yet, and you live in the Philadelphia area, GO NOW. I am dead serious. Put down whatever you are doing, get in your car, step onto SEPTA, do whatever it takes to get your overworked butt to that food truck - it is absolutely worth it!
It was a beautiful day (despite all the forecasts for rain), and Michelle and I hosied a bench by the button. Working in a cubicle for eight hours a day really makes you appreciate those moments you get in the sun (literally!), even if a tribe of bumble bees accosts you for your (damn fine) lunch.
Which is exactly what happened. Michelle must have jumped off the bench at least five times, but I was so happy with my meal that I barely noticed. Hey man, you have to have priorities.
It was GLORIOUS.
After the jumping/eating (depending on which of us you are identifying with), we wished Ann Marie and Loretta a happy Mother's Day with a bouquet of flowers and took the self-guided tour of the new and improved Bennett Hall. All graduates of Penn should really take a walk through there - there is so much more history in that building than in that new Wharton bohemoth, not to mention style and character. They totally revamped the 4th floor into a beautiful music department, and there is equipment there that the UTV-staffers should seriously consider stealing.
While there, we even stopped by to harass good old Professor Conn, who was kind enough to be in his office. That and he wrote me a recommendation for the Peace Corps so I can't sing his praises highly enough.
Done entertaining ourselves in Bennett Hall, we picked up Ann Marie and Loretta for our ladies-only luncheon at The New Deck Tavern. Having already experienced the bliss that is The Magic Carpet, I only ordered a Bailey's Irish Coffee, which sounded like a good idea at the time. (Yeah, because full-on body shakes sounded like a good idea at the time - gotta love the effect caffeine has on me.)
We chatted, caught up on life, and basically made our lovely English Department ladies late to leave for home. It is SO GOOD to see them after all this time and be able to hear how good life is to them these days.
(I forgot to mention registering for the reunion events with Andrew. The only things to note here are 1) I refused the "free" tote bag. I refuse to expend the energy to throw away something as heinous as that. 2) Andrew gave me a card for absolutely no reason. I love that boy, but sometimes he is very, very strange. Not to mention OCD.)
Before I knew it, it was time for dinner. Once again, food was to be had from one of the finest culinary establishments in town: Trattoria Primadonna. Owned by Giancarlo, and introduced to me by my friend Phil, this place boasts the best Fetuccine Alfredo I have ever consumed. At this family-owned and -run restaurant, all the food is made from scratch and you should order the chocolate tiramisu if ever you get the chance.
In any case, there is not a cab to be found in the UPenn neighborhood during graduation weekend. I don't know if the cab drivers go on strike that weekend, or simply refuse to cowtow to The Man (which, if it is the case, I don't entirely blame them), but either way I hoofed it in heels for about 10-15 blocks before I caught a SEPTA bus. I still had to walk about 7 blocks when I got off, but it was a far sight better than walking the whole way from 46th & Locust to 16th & Spruce.
Needless to say, I was the third-from-last to arrive. Which meant I was stuck in the kiddie corner, as I like to call it. That basically means I sat near Eric, who likes to talk inappropriately all through dinner (or drinks, or basically whatever/whenever/etc.).
It was a wonderful meal (did I mention the fetuccine alfredo?), but I will complain that three hours certainly doesn't seem like enough time for nearly a dozen people to catch up on life. I got to hear all about Melanie's new boyfriend (right down to his penis size!...okay, maybe not), Ben's Mom (guess from who), and Jeff's laser beams. Occassionally, I wandered and was able to hold Hadar (very much in-demand all weekend long) and give Yael a big ol' head rub. Hugs were had all around, but I managed to keep my hands mostly to myself. (A big bonus for all of you who don't like to have your crotches or boobies grabbed. Tee-hee...)
After hanging on to all these mementos and photos from our four years of college, I was also able to final bring my yearbook plan to fruition. Before dinner really got underway, I handed out CDs containing a personalized Class of 2001 yearbook for Melslist (amidst much knee-knocking and hand tremors caused by the overconsumption of caffeinated products). Melanie kept repeating how she didn't think any of us changed in the past five years, but it is simply amazing to go back and look through the photos. Having worked on this project on and off for the past five years, and kept in touch with everyone through Melslist, I am infinitely familiar with all the stages of our development. We were just kids back then, and I am so proud to see how everyone is blossoming...just thinking about everyone's accomplishments makes me get all verklempt. These Melslist members are the best group of friends a girl could have, and they are so friggin' amazing. I won't even go into all the details of their successes, but just suffice to know that they are highly successful, highly motivated, massively intelligent people (how do you like that for ego stroking?).
In any case, I probably said it best in my intro to the yearbook.
So yeah, hugs, talking over one another, Ben's Mom, yadda, yadda, yadda, Class of 2001 party. The Class of 2001 party was held in the Pottruck Center. Which is a fancy way of saying, "We will treat you like middle schoolers and make you have your little dance in the gym." At midnight-fifteen, they even had the chutzpah to turn on all the lights and tell everyone to go home.
You might be able to discern that I was a little disappointed with their arrangements. And then there was the DJ, whose sound system was tuned so loud that you had to stand nose-to-nose and scream just to be heard. What a way to catch up with fellow Penn grads.
The good news was that there was no one there that I really wanted to see (that I didn't know was coming anyway). Like I have always known about myself, I'm not really a school spirit kind of a girl. If it weren't for the fact that my bestest friends in the whole wide world were all willing to travel for this reunion crap, I wouldn't have been there. But as it was, we convinced David to travel from Germany, Yael to fly from Israel, and all the rest of the West coast gang to live through red-eye flights and bad airplane food.
The fun stuff? Watching Eric be the only person to attempt the rock wall, and with a drink in hand no less. Melanie's dedication to Eric ("Sometimes words just aren't enough. Eric Gordon, this song is for you."). Blue and red drinkies. Pretending to be a functional human being at Nishchay's house by eating Oreos and watching Michelle smile in her sleep. Hearing about Pete stealing a golf cart.
The not so fun stuff? Losing my voice and having swollen lymph nodes for a week. Nishchay dropping a glass of red wine on my jacket and staying up late to attempt to wash it off. The loud music. Not recognizing most of the people there (did they all really attend Penn? Who knew?!).
When the jacket was as clean as it was going to get, Nishchay made me nauseous by driving us home to the Pete n' Mumbles B&B. Passing out was instantaneous.
