Chillin out, Maxin, Relaxin all cool

I had my first Philly Cheesesteak.

Not to insult your intelligence, but some people take longer than others to figure out the obvious- I was in Philadelphia this past weekend. My roommate, Lauren Taplinger (to be biographied..i did make that up) has a brownstone in the heart of Philly’s quaintest. It’s the second time I’ve been, and even after only two short visits can I solidly say I could live there. I’m not going to, but I could, solidly.

I had a few pros to guide me out of my virgin Cheesesteak way. The first was obviously Lauren, the second was Ashley, Lauren’s childhood friend, who spent the entire day frolicking with us. The third was Scott. Scott went to uPenn ..UPenn..Upenn..U.. Penn? Whatever.. University of Pennsylvania (but that’s too long and uncool). Scott is a friend of a friend, lives in the city, works as a lawyer, and may or may not be at my level of comedy. I was sent very, very specific text messages outlining the entire order. Whiz and Onions, and introduce ketchup on round 2. Whiz is as sketchy and elusive as its name suggests. It’s over processed, over heated and reheated cheese- sinful and delicious. Onions need no further discussion, but the woman at the cash register (shown below) does. Not that any amount of unhealth or disgust would have turned me away from being the only girl in line for the ‘wich, but please note the size of the woman taking my money, and let’s talk about the credibility in this statement, “Our meat is 100% lean and has absolutely no fat.”



Regardless, my first bite was Phil-icious.

Back to the biography of Lauren Taplinger. Here is her new blog! Our blogs have the same birthday. She’s been in the city since November and works in public relations- she gets jargon. Her heart is BIG, which takes up all the space in the tiny 2-bedroom apartment of hers that I’ve moved into. Jessica, Jessica Freeman-Henderson, JFH, J, takes up the 2nd bedroom-that’s only 1 person, but she’ll respond to a lot of callings. Back to Tap’s big heart (oh ya, everyone except for her voicemail and parents call her Tap). We’ve been friends since the awkward high school days, when we both thought bleach blond high lights were all the rage. Thank god, at the ripe age of 22 and 23, we’ve both figured out that au natural brown is our (mighty) finest look. If you caught that, she’s 23, a year older than me. So she’s like a big sister, except that sometimes I’m like HER big sister.. in times of recollection (inside joke, and I know inside jokes are so immature, but we’re comedians.. oops again with the insider). Her parents are FABULOUS, and it’s an honor to say I love you to a second set of parents. Our parents are buds as well, so it’s one big happy fam-dam-ily.

Brings me to my living sitch. The original plan was to “crash” on her couch, like many newcomers to the pretty penny rent prices. We revamped crash, and I’ve been sleeping side by side in Tap’s bed since day 2 (I wanted to be rugged day 1 and actually crash). I’ve got one big suitcase that I’ve been living out of for the past month. I’m trying to keep up the anti-glam lifestyle I grew accustomed to in Asia, but I gave in and phoned the parents last week to ship up my closet, please, please, please.

So here I sit, in my temporary baby apartment in New York City, anxiously awaiting any sort of wardrobe, Tap by my side, and still full from my Philly Cheesesteak.