I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!

I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!

I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!
I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!
I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!
I HATE YOU PHILADELPHIA!!!

I will shout if from the rooftops until the instant I leave this city. Poor Garmin heard it plenty of times on my way into the city today. As did the people in the car next to me, as I was screaming it and a few other choice expletives while dodging taxi cabs and pedestrians. Writing this, I am locked in my room. I am not leaving until tomorrow morning when I check out. I do not want to see what the hotel has to offer. I do not want to see the city or sight see. I will pay my entire $60 food allowance today to get a loaf of bread delivered to my room because there is nothing in the world, besides the building being on fire, that will get me out of this hotel. I hate you Philadelphia

Let me explain my last hour or so for you. I checked out of my hotel and drove the nice suburban roads. I didn't want to be in Philly any earlier than I needed, so I hung out at a McDonald's for 3 hours, writing my last blog and milking the Diet Coke machine for all it was worth. I wasn't going to leave until dark because I really just wanted to go to Philly and pass out, but I decided I couldn't loiter any longer and opted to drive into the city. It was a short ride, maybe 45 minutes to the city limit. No problem. But as it got closer and the skyscrapers in my line of sight got larger, my issues began. First, the highway around Philly was very congested. I've deduced there's a Philadelphia Phillies home game tonight. I have no idea where. From what I have heard on the radio, they are doing well. I think. The exit took a while to get off. Once I did, I prayed. Very much outloud. To God and to Garmin, that I just get there safely. Thank goodness I prayed, because I might have been worse off if I hadn't.

I got off the highway and entered the city. I prayed again that the hotel be on the outskirts of the city. That it would have a nice little parking lot. Wrong. I'm fairly certain I am smack dab in the middle of this stupid place, judging by the people laying on their horns outside my window every 3 or so minutes. I drove for about 20 minutes around the city, which seemed about 3 hours of driving. No one uses their blinkers or stays in their lane for that matter. I screamed at people. They honked at me. I sipped my Diet Coke, chewing on the straw to relieve tension and hope for some calm to come over me. At one point, I was in a 3 way intersection and about 5 cars who definitely had a redlight just came right at me and laid on their horns, trying to get into my lane. I don't really even know how to use a horn. There's no need for it at really, because people are not actually TRYING to kill you. Remember, I am driving a rather large SUV. And I am terrified of getting hit and having to deal with the insurance company. I came so close to being crunched about 8 times. Lots of horns. I am not an aggressive driver; I'm a terrified city driver. All the bad memories from the last time I drove through Boston came back to me. I was sweating and cursing and gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Finally, I see my hotel on the right. I am four lanes over to the left. There is no parking lot. Not really even an area to pull in. Just a curb, which was full. I couldn't move over there anyways, so I kept driving. Garm freaked out because it can't handle cities, causing me to panic more and just shut him off. I figured I'd just go around the block. Wrong again. Not a grid system. So I ended up about 3 "blocks" away, unsure if I was driving on a one way street going the wrong direction. Finally, I saw Marriott in the distance and saw a parking garage next to it.

I pulled in but wasn't sure if this was the correct garage. There was no one around to ask. I pushed the help button on the ticket machine. No answer. Pushed it again. Nothing. So I drove my massive SUV through a garage so narrow I would have been worried in my Focus. Up all 8 flights only to turn around and go down all 8 to get out. I knew I was going no where, but those 10 minutes were the most restful in the city. I stopped the car. Took a breath. It was quiet. No one was honking at me. I breathed again, as deeply as I could. I hoped there would be a man at the bottom so I wouldn't have to pay the $6 for entering the garage. Fortunately, there was and with slight difficulty, he was able to void it so I got out for free. I apologized for not knowing how to drive in a city and he directed me to the Marriott right across the street. I contemplated bribing him to drive my car over. He might just do it for the $20 in my wallet. I did not want to leave that parking garage. But I'm a grown up now and you can't just throw a temper tantrum and quit the game. There was absolutely no one here to save me, so I had to save myself.

At the Marriott, parking was valet only, so I pulled in, very quickly shoved all my electronics and personal belongings into a couple bags. Two suitcases, two tote bags, a wristlet purse, and a laptop bag. For one night. But I didn't want to leave anything valuable in the car. I did leave all my work boxes though, thinking I'd go back for them tomorrow morning. I didn't know what to do with my keys, so I looked around to see what others were doing. I couldn't tell. So I asked a random man outside of the hotel. To my luck, he wasn't American and didn't know how to do it either. I finally just gave the keys to a guy in a white shirt. I'm 98% certain he was the right guy. And so I rolled into the Marriott, stood in line a bit and gave my name to the front desk person. She said the Convention Center, where I need to be tomorrow, was just up the elevator. THANK GOD. I wouldn't even have to leave the hotel and go outside.....Then she said, "Ma'am, you don't have a reservation here."

And the fun continues! Please double check. Nope, not there. She asked where I was staying and I honestly didn't know. I thought the Marriott. A million things ran through my head. Could I book a room here instead? I dug my phone out of my purse to check my g-cal. It said the Courtyard by Marriott, Philadelphia Downtown. Her response? "You are not at the right hotel." I sighed. I was two blocks away. And so I gathered my two suitcases, two tote bags, a wristlet, my large diet coke cup, laptop bag and the travel pillow tied onto one of the bags and we rolled out the door. What a shame. I liked that hotel. And the Convention Center was right there! So I walked a couple blocks through the city. I left my car with the first hotel. Screw it. Let them have it. Looking like a bag lady, struggling to keep my overloaded suitcases upright, I trudged on. I couldn't figure out when to cross the street because at U- we just cross but I know that will get you killed in a city. I waited around for someone else to show up and then I followed them. The suitcases wobbled a lot, I wobbled a lot, trying not to spill my ice cold soda that was freezing my hand all over my belongings.

I stumbled into the next hotel and confesses to the front desk worker that I honestly didn't even know if I was in the right hotel. Fortunately, found my reservation. I actually threw both of my hands up in the air and shouted YES! in the middle of the lobby. I looked around. I was very under dressed. Everyone else was in a suit and tie or a dress. I was in jeans, flip flops and holding a cup from Mickey D's. I remembered the last time I came to Philly. My parents told me I was an embarrassment - I was 17 and walked into a fancy hotel lobby carrying a Winnie the Pooh pillow and blanket from the car ride, wearing sweatpants, and holding Goldfish crackers in the crook of my elbow. I didn't feel much better today. Why do these people dress up so much!? I got in the elevator, which had also filled up behind me. I was the first off and had to push through the well dressed crowd to get off. One suitcase got stuck in the elevator threshold and wouldn't move. The second one ran over a guys toe. I rushed down the hallway, only to find out I went the wrong way off the elevator. I got to my room, actually threw my belongings inside the door(see photo), slammed the door, flipped the deadbolt shut and collapsed in the entry way, my back against the door. And there I sat, on the floor, for quite some time, catching my breath and still muttering "I hate you Philadelphia!!" I stayed there until I had to go to the bathroom. It was inevitable after so much Diet Coke.

So here I stay, locked in my hotel room. It's comical that my key card to my room says:

"The lock on your room is not meant to keep you there."
FALSE.