If anyone still reads this...another cultually exciting day in North Philadelphia

 
 After an anything-but-blissful morning, causing myself physical and emotional pain with a bassoon, and forgetting both my wallet and keys in my apartment I had had about enough.  Ready to collapse into the fetal position on our industrial (and surely bacteria ridden) couch, as I opened the door - leaning on it to open due to a lack of motivation and energy - I was enveloped in a cloud of fumes that could have only come from freshly baked cookies.  Had I closed my eyes I could have believed I was sitting in my Gramma's house on Christmas Eve.  I could feel the stress melt away. Thank God for cookies and baking. And my room mate thanks God for me - because she can't bake worth a damn. 

Halfway through making a second batch of buttercream icing, we ran out of powdered sugar. Oh, we also ran out of milk and eggs. Easy solution since we live next to a grocery store. Call me a woman, I love going grocery shopping. It's therapeutic. Grocery shopping in here in North Philly usually gives me the same happy satisfied feelings inside..but a little different. This is after all, the city of brotherly love. Take that as you will, it's true. My cultural experience of the day occurred as I walked past a Muslim man on my way to Fresh Grocer. At 4:30 on the dot I saw him roll out a rug and begin to pray. I always knew Muslims prayed 5 times a day, but growing up in a tiny rural town I had only ever knows a couple Muslim kids who were not very strict in their practice. Perhaps the best word to describe my situation there is intrigued. I think I might take a Muslim culture study for my religion GenEd...
Sauntering down the fruit aisle, I stop to look at the strawberry prices.  Here at good ol' FroGro produce, especially fruit, is overpriced. "$2.99". No strawberries today. The middle aged woman next to me had a similar reaction to my own, shaking her head as she picked up apples instead. I recommend she go to the Italian Market where I buy them at about fifty cents a box. She thanked me, but explained she didn't drive and traveling by subway was difficult for her at the age of eighty-one. WHAT? "Ma'am, you're not 81, you can't be," "I swear I am!" she replied adamantly. 
I swear black people don't age.
The rest of my adventure in FroGro was pretty ordinary. Oh, except for the guy with a handgun shoved obviously in the side of his waistband. Isn't it called a concealed weapons permit? (Keepin' it classy I see...keepin' it classy.) Laden down with groceries (there was a sale on soy milk), I hobbled outside with the plastic bags digging into my hands when I heard "HEY MA YOU NEED HELP WITH THEM BAGS?" You get used to this after a while, and learn to not look and just keep walking. Even though I did want to yell back "DO I LOOK LIKE YOUR MAMA?" Three steps. "HEY BABY GIRL YOU NEED SOME HELP?" Step, step, step, step. 
I got home just in time to save my room mate's latest batch of cookies. Now I'm here with her, her male friend from some physics class, and my man, getting down with some Latin tunes. My life - North Philly style.
 Eso Ehh - Alexis y Fido

That moment when you know you're at the exact place you should be. This realization has occurred to me before, but it came to me again last night after my late night practicing in Presser. And again this morning during one of my classes. I don't dread going to class at all. I am living the freaking dream. My homework? Practicing. What do I do when I'm stressed? Play. So, in essence, my homework is to relax. Biggest. Win. Ever. 


Now I just need to get a job once I graduate....

Living in the Moment - Jason Mraz

Chris' Jazz Cafe

Not the best photo, I'm aware. Still. Get here.

LISTEN TO THIS. JUST DO IT. <----(click on the link here to listen to "Destiny")
I can't say anything negative about this place. Ever. I love when people say to me "so have you ever been to that Jazz place in the city? Chris'?" My response: "That's my spot!" This either is or should be anyone and everyone's place for a fancy date, a lazy night just listening to jazz munching on some sweet potato fries, or just somewhere to enjoy time with close friends, amazing food, and even better music.  The cover price in my experience has been between $5-$15 and usually on the cheaper end of things if you bring your college ID along. 
 If you're a Philly native or merely passing through, a visit to this locale (what appears to just be a hole in the wall from the outside) on Sansom street is a must. But please, look presentable. The performers are pouring out their heart and soul for you, so the least we can do as an audience is be tolerable to look at. Advocate for the arts. This is one of the last places to see live jazz on a regular basis in Philadelphia - a city that used to be filled with this soulful music on nearly every corner.
 In a crazy city, Chris' place makes my life feel a little more homey amidst the chaos of sirens, the subways screeching metal against metal, and blocks out the "city smell" of subway, urine, fresh cigarettes, and stale weed that has permeated any porous surface it could come into contact with. Beautiful, isn't it?

Lawrence Jones - The Flute Player from Friday Night at Chris'  - check out his website. He does this awesome thing when he switches between vocals and flute and sax. Give it a listen.It was so good I bought a CD. I don't do CDs usually, so this should be a good sign.

A Day in the Life

Sir John - Blue Mitchell

My life.

Just sittin'

For those of you that immediately associate Philadelphia, Temple, or North Philly with dirt, grime, murder, and other various horrible things, I beg of you, look at this picture. Have you ever seen a more beautiful intercity day? You haven't. You're welcome.
Just so you know, there's a guy around the corner selling one of the most diverse collections of posters I have ever seen - all while playing some of the best music to accompany and enhance the atmosphere of this incredible day.
Satisfaction - The Rolling Stones

Eating on a College-Sized budget...easier than you think.

Enjoyed this delicious menagerie of Italy with a side of Jazz like Affair in Havana - Dexter Gordon. You should do the same.

For those of you who are college students, will be shortly, or even parents of those students, listen up. What are you paying for your meal plan? At Temple U, the average meal plan will cost you about $1,400 on top of your tuition and housing per semester. Not per year, no. Semester.
So I got thinking to myself, how much do I even eat? I'm a pretty petite person, so unless I have friends over I don't need to make much for myself. The only advantages of the meal plan are that you a. don't have to cook and b. can eat as much as you want. Freshman 15 anyone? No thanks. I don't care how late the gym is open if you just ate four hot dogs, fries, a slice of pizza, ice cream, and a salad to round it out. 
My plan: How much would I pay per semester in food (as in groceries) without a meal plan? First of all, I'm a pretty competent cook. Second, I'm a girl. If I'm going to go for dinner somewhere nice I probably won't be the one paying. Call me old fashioned, I just think it's polite for the man to pay. 
So, each month when the credit card bill comes in the mail, I simply record how much I spend in food purchases. At the end of the semester we'll see how it measures up against the traditional college-eating style.
Stereotypical as it may be, I love grocery shopping. Not only is it exciting to plan and make a meal, but it's also a nice slice of time I can just zone out between the rows of organic oranges and freshly harvested asparagus (though asparagus is heading out of season at the moment). Bliss. Saturday morning however, was not the typical shopping experience at the local Fresh Grocer. As many Philadelphians know, Saturday is market day. Italian style. 
Upon our arrival to the bustling street (South 9th) we had quite a problematic time deciding where to start. Ohh but I had my list. Fresh berries, blueberries a box for a dollar, a huge bag of basil surely picked earlier that morning was only a buck and some change. This my dear friends, is where the budget shopper needs to go. Well, until you get to the meat and cheese shops where the bulk of my grocery shopping took place. The butchers here are legit. Really. I thought I was back in the old country - even felt a little peculiar speaking English. The best place in the whole market is actually a little indoor joint that only sells about 100 kinds of cheese (at least), and cured meats, olives, preserves, and oils to accompany each flavor.  To fully live up my mini-vacation I had to buy some unpitted olives (so much better than their nasty counterparts with everything taken out of them but salt), cured meats, a few different kinds of cheese, a bottle of good balsamic infused with raspberries, and of course a loaf of freshly baked bread. 
As any cook or friend knows, food can only be properly enjoyed in the company of good people. Because I couldn't quite justify going all-out on a dinner just for myself, my best friend and I surprised her boyfriend with a gourmet meal to feed a small army.  Needless to say, I now have copious amounts of gourmet leftovers in my fridge. Not complaining.

Amazing food, great music, and the best of friends. Making TU classy one dinner at a time.

Words to Live by

This. This is my goal. Learning shouldn't take place entirely in the classroom.