What am I looking at?

When I first moved to South Philadelphia in the fall of 2008, expectations were high. Whereas Center City was cramped, expensive, and apathetic, a few miles south, I was promised, existed an entirely different concept. Neighbors patrol the streets, poking their heads out of brick townhouses or guarding from stoops. Small, hole-in-the wall Italian delis, bakeries, and pizza shops abound. And, most of all, private homes offer some personal space, where the laundry room, living room, and bedroom, are not just clever names for your studio apartment.

Some myths were instantly shattered, while others stood up. Regardless, what I didn't expect was the South Philly factor, that special something that despite my years of education absolutely defies all reason. Where the hell did these people come from? What possible genetic mutation could begin to explain to the foreign, bizarre, and outright appalling conduct one regularly sees down here in South Philly.

Call it rude. Call it insensitive. But short of clubbing myself repetitively with a 40 in an attempt to integrate, this blog was my best and only method of coping with life in scenic South Philly.

So sit back, throw on your sweats, have a smoke, curse out your kid, and enjoy South Philly - Where Every Day is Trash Day!