Philly Revisted

I never knew Philadelphia's 30th Street Station was so large. Nor did I dream they had wireless I could swipe from the nice little cafe, Cosi, from which I bought nothing. My head is heavy with thoughts and time, so I'm even more thankful for the clean bistro tables inside, though I don't think the umbrellas overhead are necessary.

After a night of lazing around and watching a surprisingly good horror flick, Hide and Seek, Colleen and I set out late the following day to the Mutter Museum. Despite an upset stomach, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the numerous cabinets filled with jars of formaldehyde-dunked brains and spiraling cochleas, poor disfigured and gruesome souls that never made it out of the womb alive and the giant 5-foot-long, forty-pound colon coiled like a snake next to a cabinet of eerie, smiling skeletons. We were even more intrigued by the mysterious shrunken heads in glass cases upstairs, as well as the nearby soap lady, frozen in an unusual decaying state with a look of horror on her anthracitic face.

Once we had enough of floating abnormalities and a lengthy, but fascinating recap history lesson of Lincoln and his assassin (Yes, the museum has a piece of Booth there, but nothing of Lincoln's), I decided it was high time to take Colleen's Philly Cheesesteak virginity. Though I've been there before, Geno's never fails to satisfy a rumbling belly. With some cheese fries on the side, I left satisfied, while Colleen's stomach decided whether or not it liked so much Cheez Whiz. (It didn't.) That night, we teamed up with the lovely Suzann and her engineer boyfriend, Dan, to spend the night boozing and bowling in Glen Mills.

Now it's time to leave, and I'm astounded how quickly the weekend flew by. Always the enemy, Time. Yet, nothing was wasted, and just as I took so much away from a conversation with my grandmother about her life during the war, I learned a great deal more about the Mazazula and how she views life. Perhaps she has changed in the past few years, but I believe that for a long time, I ignored or was at least blithely unaware of what she most desired once we graduated from high school and college - that being a family and a home in which to settle down. What I couldn't have predicted, however, was the person with whom she'd plan out this life and where this settling would take place.

I never once imagined myself returning to Blairsville to live, let alone spend more than a week or two, but that's exactly what she plans to do. There's nothing wrong with the place, nor the current to-be husband she's with, but regardless, the idea of settling at this age at all, no matter a small town or large city, scares me more than anything. To me, it's like sealing the deal with Death, but for her, it's everything she's dreamed of and more. Her boyfriend has a wonderful family, she'll undoubtedly have good kids and the relationship she's in is one of the best working ones I've seen. So what's so bad about settling and creating that close-knit family? What does it matter where you are, so long as you're with the people you love?

I believe there's no right track for anyone, but her path doesn't sound like the one for me. I feel as though I have to keep moving, continue learning and never stop seeing until I finally drop dead of exhaustion. I know I won't be in New York long, and it makes me incredibly sad that I'll be forced to leave friends like Colleen behind to pursue whatever it is I'm trying to pursue. For now, however, I'm worried for Colleen, but more happy for her than anything. Thanks to her and Jess, Philly will always remain a special destination to me and I'll be ready to visit again soon enough.