dating: Philadelphia Metropolis

The Case of the Crumbling Shoes

Best of VoxPop» On Christmas Eve day, as I was getting out of the car, I noticed an odd-looking thing on the ground: an oval plastic pillowy thing a little smaller than a credit card. It turned out to be the inner heel cushion from the Nike boots I was wearing. They looked fine when I put them on in the morning, but now the heel had separated into a top slice and a bottom, spitting out the air cushion that had been imprisoned inside. An hour or so later, the other heel started flapping and disgorged its cushion. Next, the front of one sole started flapping like a clown shoe. All day, everywhere I went, I left a Hansel-and-Gretel-like trail of black crumbles as the bottoms of my shoes continued to disintegrate. (Comments)

Is That All There Is?

The planners at the Philadelphia School District labored mightily and produced a mouse with the school closing/consolidation list released Wednesday (Nov. 2).  As Peggy Lee would put it, the plan had an "Is That All There Is?" quality to... (Comments)

Sexting and the Single Woman

by Robin Jesse Green» Apparently, I'm behind the times. I simply do not know how to play the dating game. I'm considered corny because I care. And unfortunately, my peers are not those of my age group. My mindset is closer to that of a single 45-year-old than a single 35-year-old Philadelphian, which stinks because I'm only 32. Things are looking bleak on the dating seen for me. I've been separated for more than a year and had been seeing someone from my past that I've never managed to get over. I'm not looking for a live-in partner, another husband or a replacement Daddy for my kids. I just want to enjoy life with him in it. Problem is, he wants to enjoy his life with me, and a bunch of others like me. (Comments)

My Asian-American Life

By O.K. Pham» "I don't think of you as Vietnamese anymore-- just as my wife." My husband Shaun stated as he leaned back in his chair, after a thoughtful sip of his Saison. We were savoring a backyard lunch together on one of those perfect Saturday afternoons in late June. I stared at him across the table where a dwindling platter of steamed corn and grilled London broil sat.The kids had already run off after devouring their lunch, treating us to the luxury of an uninterrupted conversation. My gaze fell from my husband's red hair to his grayish blue eyes, before finding the smile that had been the prelude to our many dialogues. (Comments)

Jason's Nocturne in Zzzz

By Traci Butterfield» There is really only one thing I ever miss about being single and living alone. Sleep. Plain and simple, eight solid hours of uninterrupted, restful sleep. Having the bed to myself and being able to spread out diagonally across the mattress, and hog all the blankets and pillows, and wake up on my own accord instead of to a blaring alarm clock on the weekends sounds like a little piece of heaven to me. And unless I lose my hearing (a sacrifice I'm not willing to make), break up with my boyfriend (which even to me seems a bit drastic) or embrace the 1950's sometimes-tradition of sleeping in separate bedrooms, my nights of peaceful sleep are a thing of the past. (Comments)