Marianna Fails Senior Year and Other Fun Stories: Phinally

What's really sad about the World Series celebrations being over is that we can no longer replace every f with a PH. Since this is the last day that is socially acceptable, I will be replacing all F's with PH's in this blog. This will also make me more aware of my F usage, which I don't think is nearly high enough. Or should I say enouPH? No, that's stretching it.

Anyway! Today was the Phillies parade. WOOOO! I was so excited. This is the sole reason I wanted the Phils to take it all. I distinctly remember the day I cut school phor a phew days and went up to Boston with my mom to see the 2004 World Series parade. I remember it so well that I have ophten said it was the highlight of my liphe. It was that good. Naturally, I was pumped at the idea to relive the greatest day ever.

My phriend Jane and I decided to be in the city by 10 am for the parade. We naively assumed that all trains would be running on schedule and that there would be no problems whatsoever. We arrived at the train station at 9:15 and discovered it was packed. Not only that, but the trains were phlying by. No one was stopping because they were too phull. We hightailed it up to the R100 station to catch the trolly into town. Significantly longer journey, but I'm pretty sure we would never get in on the R5. The phirst trolly sped right by us, completely packed. We panicked. I was getting bummed, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get to see my parade. Luckily another trolly came in the opposite direction but told us it was going to turn around and take us into the city. Thanks SEPTA! So not only did a trolly come, but I was able to sit down because we were the phirst people on. Aphter about 3 stops it philled up and we sped right past some really sad and bitter people straight into 69th st. There we had to switch onto another trolly (the R100 isn't really a trolly...I guess it's just another kind of train) and head downtown. We got ophph at 15th street and were going to walk down the route but we couldn't get too phar. We ended up parking ourselves around 16th and Market. I prepher to repher to this section as the "Bad Parenting Section". Everyone in our section was either yelling at their kid, or completely spoiling their kid. The guy behind me was openly cursing at his poor son who just wanted to move to the side a little so that he could see. The mother in phront of my had set our a chair and a giant stroller and was blocking anyone phrom getting anywhere near the street. The worst was the grandmother (who was younger than my own mother) behind me. She had the thickest stereotypical hick accent I've ever heard. She kept ranting about how she had claimed her space over an hour ago but everyone kept coming into her space. Umm, I'm not sure about you, but I'm pretty sure "your space" is whatever your body takes up. Granted, this lady was taking up a large amount of space. Meanwhile, her poor grandkids couldn't see a thing, but she rephused to move, claiming "everyone in her space" should move out of their way. Very annoying. The parade phinally got going and what a parade it was. I got to see my boy Cole Hamels, mega hottie. Plus some others like Jayson Werth and Jamie Moyer. I was a bit disappointed with how they jammed everyone into about phour semi-trucks and thus it was hard to pick people out between them and their phamily members. They also couldn't move phreely phrom side to side, so I missed a lot of my phavorites like Jimmy Rollins and Chase Utley.

The parade itselph was pretty short. It ended very abruptly. Well, no, bephore and aphter the players there was a large showing of the Philly Police. Let's just say when there are more police than players in your parade, it's a bit bothersome. Aphter everything had ended we were stuck. It took us a good 15 minutes to get up the block to an intersection, then another 15 minutes to walk up to 30th St Station. The idea was that Jane could go to her job up at UPenn and I could catch the R5 back to Bryn Mawr. We got some McDonalds (nearly died doing so with all of the people crushing in there) then said our goodbyes. I made my way to the platphorm and was about to get on the escalator up when someone cried 'Don't do it! You'll get stuck!" I look up and people are spilling out oph the door. Uh-oh. I go up the other side and discover mass chaos. Trains are phlying by, phull of people, with no intentions of stopping. I make an executive decision to turn around and walk down to Market East station. There I can catch it at the beginning. Now, that's quite a walk. I had to walk from 30th to 12th St, all while going against the phlow of the crowd. Once I got to Market East I was appalled, wall to wall crammed with people. I cannot explain what I saw, only that I've only seen images like this before in images of victims of some horrible human rights violation. Packed in like mother ephphing sardines (alright, I really wanted to see what that looked like spelled out). I panicked and ran upstairs to Reading Terminal Market to buy some ice cream. That would help the situation. Aphter eating quite possibly the most delicious cone of my liphe (I lived a little and sprung phor one of those classy sprinkle covered cones. Excellent decision) I had the courage to go at it again. I went back into the station and pushed my way through the crowds. By the luck of me, I got there right as they were announcing the R5. I, uh, well basically cut in line and pushed my way down there. Next to me some guy was about to get beaten up for trying the same move, but luckily, I'm a woman. Hey, hey, ho, ho, the patriarchy doesn't really need to go. Don't tell Bryn Mawr I said that. I got on the completely empty R5 and gave a huge sigh of relieph. I had been wandering the city for almost 2 hours and finally got a chance to sit. Behind me a boy called his mom, in the midst of a panic attack, and claimed that he had been waiting phor the R5 phor over 2 hours. Damn, glad I made this one. We pulled into 30th street where people were standing on the platphorm looking like immigrants at Ellis Island. Tired, dirty, and just hoping that this train will take them to glory. Some had sat down on the ground, head in hands, tears in eyes. Others were phrantically pacing the one phoot square of space they could phind. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen. The kid who got on phirst said it best "oh my God...I made it! I'm actually on the train!".

Overall impression on the day?

There is NOTHING like a World Series parade. Absolutely nothing. Always a guaranteed good time. Everyone is ecstatic. Everyone is proud. Everyone is relieved. It's a pheeling that doesn't happen ophten, especially in Philly, and it's absolutely phantastic to be a part of.

That being said, Philly needs to work on their public transportation. Stat.

To pass the time the two sides of the street started throwing a tennis ball at each other. They would cheer if you made it to the other side, boo if you didn't. It wouldn't be a Philly parade without some booing