Bloggin' America

Being in Philadelphia reminded me of what it means to be American. Being American means walking along cobblestone streets that lead to one-way alleys. Being American means sinking your teeth into a highly caloric sandwich, oozing with cheese, steak, peppers, and onions. Being American means investing a certain amount of emotional weight into a 250-year-old cracked bell. Being American means treading carefully on a lawn filled with more tiny American flags than blades of grass. But more than anything else, being American means being with family. Keep going...

“Ami, we need to talk about Mom.” Keep going...

It’s a real gosh darn shame we missed Groundhog Day in Pennsylvania. We drove sort of near Punxsutawney about a month later, but it wasn’t nearly as exciting. I kind of relate my life to Bill Murray’s character in the movie Groundhog Day sometimes. Every day seems exactly the same! Keep going...

So Pennsylvania seems to be exactly what the Rehnquist family needed if we wanted any chance at salvaging our family or this elaborate trip. The slightly warmer weather helps too! But the past few weeks have been transformational for the dynamic of our relationships. Coming out of Ohio was a little bit rocky, and I even remember a few nights of hushed whispers through my cell phone to Trish, begging her to find a way to get a plane out here to rescue me and bring me home. Keep going...