New Years Wishes

I've spent every Christmas for over a decade in the Sunshine State visiting my parents. Mele Kalikimaka and all that.  

It was always nice to be on vacation for the holidays (especially when it was freezing at home).  But I've never really gotten used to a tropical yule, as evidenced by the fact that I'm wearing a sweater and it is 72 degrees...

This year hit a bit different, as I'm a Florida resident now!

Obviously there are many things I miss from home, but I have to say, I'm enjoying this new chapter too. And honestly, I wouldn't trade anything for this time with my mom.

As I type this, we're hours away from 2022 so I have a few wishes for my family and yours...

🌞 May the sun shine on you every day.

🥂 May your glass always be half full.

🧡 May you be surrounded by people you love.

Here's to a picture-perfect new year! 

Never Forget

Today marks 20 years since 9/11.  A grim anniversary if ever there was one.

It's a day I carry with me, burned in my brain. It changed me. And I have a sick pit in my stomach each year as I am triggered by the tributes.

They say "never forget." 

If you lived it, you know that's not remotely possible.

To mark the 10th anniversary, I wrote this.  Here's how I feel today...

I remember how much I loved my commute to lower Manhattan each day through the World Trade Center, feeling like I'd "made it" at age 28.

I remember riding the long escalator up from the PATH trains that connected NY & NJ, emerging in a sea of energy and hustle, like this was the center of the universe.

I remember working on a sponsorship for Risk Magazine's financial conference at Windows on the World on the top floor of the Trade Center, scheduled for September 11, 2001.

I remember our speaker canceling his appearance days before, so thankfully, we wouldn't need to attend that conference after all.

I remember how beautiful it was that Tuesday morning.

I remember being stopped on my way to work by a local schoolteacher who had car trouble, which put me behind schedule.

I remember parking my car in Hoboken like every normal day, then hearing a horrible boom behind me.

I remember seeing the parking attendant's face lose all color, then being afraid to turn around to look across the Hudson River.

I remember seeing smoke surround one of the Twin Towers

I remember instantly calling my dad who worked in the building to see if he was alright.

I remember he said they felt a big jolt but were ok and were told to stay put.

I remember getting cut off mid-conversation as the cell towers jammed.

I remember walking over to the entrance of the PATH to stand next to a police officer so I could hear his radio.

I remember a stranger who grabbed my hand as we watched a second plane fly into the upper floors on the right side of South Tower, and not come out.

I remember the screams and gasps of the commuters standing around me as we all saw the unthinkable with our own eyes.

I remember desperately trying to get across the river to see if I could help my dad.

I remember a kind officer who turned me away.

I remember calling my mom who told me to come right home.

I remember driving on Route 3 past Giants Stadium, with tears streaming down my face, seeing the burning buildings in the distance.

I remember Peter Jenning's voice on the radio announce that the South Tower had collapsed, then almost driving head-first into a highway divider. 

I remember pulling up our driveway, having no idea if my father was alive.

I remember walking into the living room and seeing my mother rocking back and forth on the couch while saying they just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary.

I remember my brother coming home, eyes red from crying.

I remember the three of us standing together in the middle of the living room as we watched the North Tower collapse on live TV.

I remember my 6'5" brother drop into a ball on the floor, as I ran to the kitchen sink to throw up.

I remember hours dragging by, wavering between sheer grief and utter numbness.

I remember hearing the phone finally ring but feeling terrified to pick it up.

I remember hearing an operator ask if we would accept a collect call from John.

I remember us screaming YES into the phone and hearing my father's voice on the other end.

I remember my mom telling him to keep walking to my aunt's apartment, more than 80 blocks away on the Upper East Side.

I remember the city being on lockdown with no one getting in or out.

I remember leaving a voicemail for a good friend who worked at Aon on the upper floors of the Trade Center, worried the worst had happened to her.

I remember calling another good friend who's father was a chief in the FDNY, praying he would make it home.

I remember our relief hours later when my father called again, safe at my aunt's apartment.

I remember my aunt telling us he was dazed and covered in soot.

I remember staying up all night long watching cable news, my mind racing yet completely unable to process the day's events.

I remember my dad coming home the following day in my uncle's clothes.

I remember my whole family hugging on our front lawn.

I remember going to an Italian restaurant that Saturday night with my mom and dad, brother, aunt and uncles to celebrate my dad's life.

I remember thinking how many families were not as lucky as we were.

I remember him telling us that he helped direct traffic as people evacuated the building, amidst the carnage, and left shortly before it all came crashing down because he was looking for me.

I remember the profound sorrow, fear and anger.

I remember the extraordinary stories of courage.

I remember the surge of patriotism that united us all.

I remember returning to work the following Tuesday.

I remember seeing the missing person posters that hung all over Hoboken.

I remember riding a ferry boat to cross the Hudson River because the PATH station no longer existed.

I remember the boat being packed but completely silent, as my eyes welled up with tears.

I remember stepping onto Pier 11 in NYC alone and seeing armed guards and a giant military tank.

I remember seeing the face of my sweet boss through the crowd because my mom called and asked him to meet me at the boat to walk me to work on Water Street.

I remember the awful smell of death that still hung in the air and stung my nose.

I remember the soot that still covered every surface like a blanket.

I remember feeling like a zombie.

I remember slowly hearing familiar names trickle in of people I knew, lives tragically lost...

Brett Bailey, Billy Micciulli, Chris Dunne, Christopher Slattery, Ian Schneider, Jonathan Capello, Michele Du Berry, Paul Bristow, and Marc Murolo. 

I remember sitting in the office with my boss, Greg, and my colleague, Roger, and crying together.

I remember doing this same somber commute, across the river, week after week after week.

I remember having a panic attack one day in Battery Park on my way to work as I walked past The Sphere, a bronze statue recovered in the rubble of Ground Zero.

I remember two years after the attack when the PATH trains reopened in Lower Manhattan.

I remember seeing daylight from an underground train as we traced the perimeter of a building that no longer stood above it.

I remember the resilience of New York.

I remember three jobs later when my company announced we would be moving to the new One World Trade Center.

I remember knowing I would have to leave that job because I didn't have the heart or stomach to work where 2,753 souls were lost.

Every year at this time -- and often at times in between -- I'm reminded of this. All of it flashes through my mind like a horror movie I can't unsee.

And the worst part of it is, despite the heroic efforts of our troops for two decades, I fear we're less safe today than we were on September 10th 2001.  I pray for everyone who is suffering right now and more than anything, I pray for peace.

Bye Bye Boken

I was born in the Bronx and lived there for the first 6 years of my life.  I've also lived in NYC and CT -- twice.  But I've spent the majority of my life in NJ and I'm a Jersey Girl at heart.

There's nothing I don't love about the Garden State.

(And yes, I know that's a double negative, and no, I don't care.)

It's so pretty -- don't let anyone tell you different. The public school system is terrific -- no joke, we rank #1 in the nation for pre-K-12.  The people have huge hearts -- you just have to earn it.  Every gas station in the whole state is full-service -- pumping your own is simply barbaric.  

And the food is the BEST -- just try getting a decent bagel or pizza or chicken parm outside the Tristate Area.  It can't be done!

So, you might be asking yourself, why I would leave the paradise that is New Jersey (she asked without a trace of sarcasm in her voice)?

Well, as much as I love it -- and it's really all I know -- 2020 was a rough year for many reasons, not the least of which was my parents' health. They saw more doctors and hospitals in the past year than they've seen my whole life.

It became crystal clear to me that we can't be 1000 miles apart anymore.

I considered moving them back up north, or moving all of us to the Chicago area to be near my brother, but truly the best thing for them is for me to fit into their lives, not the other way around.  Deciding to make the move to Florida to help care for them was a tough one, but I know in my heart it's the right thing to do. And lucky for me, I found a great job in their community doing what I love.

I believe things start to align when you're on the right track.

So, this week, my brother flew down to be with my parents, while I drove home from FL to NJ for the first time since last June.  After 9 months away, my apartment had become the world's most expensive storage unit.  I hired a company to pack, move and put all my stuff into an actual storage unit.  And tomorrow, I turn over my apt keys and drive back down to FL.  For good.  

All this, in the span of a week.

So, now I sit here in Hoboken by the glow of my oldest friend -- TV -- surrounded by boxes stacked to the ceiling.  Exhausted, yet unable to sleep.  I'm typing this with a heavy heart for the many people and things I'll dearly miss.  

But I DO have a full belly.

I mean, I really couldn't leave town without ordering ALL my favorite dishes, right?  At emotional times like this, I turn to food for comfort.  Here's a hearty helping...

My go-to from Napolis --
large vodka pizza, arancini & cannoli. Buon appetito!

Del Frisco's Grille serves up a fine steak salad,
but the cheesesteak eggrolls are really where it's at.

You haven't lived until you've had
a prosciutto & mutz hero from Vito's Deli.
(Eating it on top of a moving box is optional.)

NJ is the Diner Capital of the World, so naturally,
I needed a grilled cheese w bacon & crispy o-rings
from Malibu Diner, a Hoboken fixture since the 40s.

Did you even order from Sushi Lounge if you didn't get
crispy rice?  No.  Also, some edamame and spring,
super kani and cali rolls came along for the ride.

A final stop at O'Bagel for a toasted sesame with cream cheese
and a Snapple. My breakfast of champions since high school.

If I had more time, I also would have eaten my way through Charritos, Benny Tudino's, Arthur's, Grimaldi's, Madison's and House of Que too.

SO, smell ya later, Jersey!

Kiiidding.

I find humor helps in these situations.  But seriously, stay #HobokenStrong.  I miss you already...

10 Things I Wish I Knew Before My Mom Spent 5 Weeks in ICU

In my 20s, the worst thing that happened to me was 9/11. I worked in downtown NYC at the time and my dad was in the Trade Center  Thankfully, he got out just in time because he came looking for me. 

In my 30s, it was getting dumped by my fiancé a few months before I thought we would marry. It was a devastating and expensive breakup. Oh, and did I mention I worked for Brides magazine at the time? 

Salt, meet wound.

Now in my 40s, I've officially experienced the worst pain of my life -- suddenly and out of the blue, hearing a doctor I just met say if he didn't operate now, my mom wouldn't make it through the night.

It is an out of body experience hearing those words: She. Could. Die. Like a nightmare with your eyes open.  In a flash, you begin making loads of critical decisions -- literally life and death.

And you aren't prepared. 

So, you cry.  And you google.  And you pray.  A lot.  And still, you have a non-stop sick pit in your stomach because you don't know what you don't know.

It was mid-June when this all happened to my family. By sheer luck I had just arrived in Florida two days earlier. A routine trip, or so I thought.  And everything was fine.  Normal.  

Until it wasn't.

We went from a late night trip to the local emergency room -> to an overnight admittance to a hospital 45 minutes away -> to 2 emergency surgeries at 2 different hospitals in 48 hours -> to 2 weeks in trauma ICU -> to getting discharged -> only to wind up BACK in the trauma ICU 2 days later with complications, where my mom remained for 3 more long, frightening weeks.  

And all this during Covid, where the hospital policy changed from just ONE visitor at a time, to ONE visitor total, to NO visitors at all.

Alone when she needed us most.

Thankfully, I had my brother to lean on. And while my mom had good care in the hospital for the most part, NOBODY'S like family -- and everyone underestimates the healing power they bring. So as a family, my dad, brother and I finally brought my mom home 38 days after she was first admitted -- totally traumatized, hooked up to several scary machines, and completely unable to walk or even stand.

Truth be told, she should have gone to a rehab facility, but I believe with every fiber of my being that if we did that (where again she would be alone due to Covid rules), she wouldn't have made it out.

Instead, we turned my parents' home into a rehab -- with registered nurses, physical and occupational therapists, home health aides visiting daily, and every piece of medical equipment you can imagine.  

Did we know what we were doing?  No.  But we were lucky, in a way, to be ABLE to do it.  To find help.  To afford it.  To dedicate the time.  Though, it definitely wasn't easy.

Now fast forward to today, nearly four months later. My mom had her last physical therapy session, and she is walking once again, with the help of a walker and fueled by sheer determination.  The doctors and therapists initially had very low hopes. 

But they don't know my mom.

Her health journey isn't over, but I feel like I can finally breathe again! (While I still pray the worst is behind us.) 

When I look back, there are SO many things I wish we knew that would have made the process smoother, or could have avoided unnecessary setbacks, or would have made my mom more comfortable, or given us all more peace of mind.  I hope you never need it, but incase you do, I've made a list for people with aging parents.

10 Things I Wish I Knew: A Checklist for Caregivers

1. Appoint a Family Medical Advocate: This should be someone who knows the most about a parent's background, who can speak on their behalf when they can't, ask questions when they don't understand, and be with them as much as possible.
2. Find Out What Hospital System Their Local ER Is Affiliated With: Just because the emergency room is nearby, doesn't mean the hospital will be. Or, that it will have a good reputation.  Planning ahead here may help you make a better decision in the heat of the moment.
3. Know Their Doctors' Names and Numbers: This is especially important for their GP, because everyone will ask who this person is, and if you don't know or they don't have one, it really complicates things, especially after they are discharged.
4. Learn Their Social Security Number: Also required for all admitting paperwork, and often hard to remember on the spot.
5. Get a Pic of Their Meds: The older we get the more medicine we take, so take a picture of each bottle so you have it in your camera roll, and make sure you can read the dosage and frequency on the label. While you're at it, ask what their allergies are too.
6. Get a Pic of their Medical Cards: This includes Medicare, any supplement insurance, and any prescription cards.  If you don't have access to their wallet, or even if you do, it's very helpful to have this info on hand.
7. Find Their Checkbook & Find Out When Their Social Security Check Hits: Depending on how long they're hospitalized, and depending on who normally does the bills, you may need to step in and handle their banking. And if they're anything like my parents, we're talking mailing actual paper checks, not online bill paying, so buffer in extra time for them to arrive. And buy stamps.
8. Know Their Phone Password: It might be easy to guess, like a birthday or anniversary, but make sure you know how to get in so you can access their email and their contacts.
9. Keep a Running Log of What Happens: This could be as simple as a text chain with a sibling, because all the doctors and dates and procedures and test results will start to blend together.  Texting updates in real time will help, especially when you are connecting the dots between different health issues or reconciling conflicting advice (because in all likelihood, you will have a better handle on the big picture than the revolving door of medical professionals they will see).
10. Learn Everyone's Names: About that revolving door, you will meet more people than you can keep straight, but you need to remember them for 3 important reasons: Appreciation, Access, and Accountability.  Appreciation because you can call them by name to say thank you, and they deserve that. Access because when you need something or someone, you can give a name that will give your ask legitimacy and urgency. And Accountability, because if someone knows you know their name they are more likely to follow through.
11. BONUS - Find a Local Medical Supply Store or Rental Company: You can get everything you know you need at home, like hospital beds, lift chairs, wheelchairs, walkers, shower chairs, portable bedside commodes, Ensure -- and everything you don't know you need, like portable oxygen concentrators, wound vacs, nebulizers, gait belts, PureWicks, Hoyer lifts, medical transport services and more. Insurance will pay for most of this too.  Just keep talking to people who know more than you, and they'll point you in the right direction.

I wouldn't wish the year I've had on anyone, but I'm so grateful to be going into Thanksgiving with my mom by my side.

I hope you are able to be with your loved ones too.

Two Taters & New Fall TV

Fall TV is back, which means MORE new shows to love!

Since my parents moved to FL eleven years ago, my mom and I have TV dates a few nights a week. We watch shows together on the phone, have a snack and catch up on the day during commercials. I know she watches a lot of stuff she doesn't really like (hello, Housewives!), just to spend time together, which is one of the many reasons she's awesome.

So, when you see a show with an asterisk below, it means we both watched it. The Loveseat Potato AND Mama Potato! Or... is it Mrs. Potato?

That name might be taken.

Anyway, I started these reviews in 2009 and followed up in 2010 with a fascinating (ahem) account of my DVR schedule juggling act. Mrs. Potato Head made a guest appearance in 2011.  The Loveseat Potato was born (picked? harvested?) in 2012.  In 2013, she found a spuddy buddy to watch alongside and in 2014 she was surrounded by a scary herd of cats. 2015 brought the fry guys in a hot tub (my homage to the Bachelorette), 2016 was the year of chips and dips, 2017 was totally refried to reflect all the recycled shows that returned to the airwaves. And in 2018 our favorite potato spent the weekend in bed catching up on all the new shows (which were mostly a snooze).

You know the drill, the Loveseat Potato (and her mom) binged on 29 new shows.  For you!  Watching a minimum of 2 episodes per.

Here's how they all stacked up...


BEST NEW COMEDY:

SPUD: The Politician (Netflix)

WHY IT'S A SMASH: This show is like Election meets The Royal Tenenbaums -- it even has Gwyneth! It centers around Petyon Hobart (played by Dear Evan Hansen's Ben Platt), who plans to become President of the United States one day. His first step is to become President of his high school class. By any means necessary. It's quirky and campy and dark and witty. And man, can Ben sing!

Honorable mention goes to: Sunnyside (NBC), Mixed-Ish* (ABC), The Unicorn (CBS)

DUDS: Perfect Harmony (NBC), Carol's Second Act (CBS), Bob Hearts Abishola (CBS)





BEST NEW DRAMA:

SPUD: Stumptown* (ABC)

WHY IT'S A SMASH: They had me at Colbie Smulders (How I Met Your Mother) and Jake Johnson (New Girl). She is ex-military turned private investigator, he is an ex-felon, turned bar owner. Not sure how he got a liquor license, but he also has a gun, soooo... whatevs. It's a fast-paced car chase set to a mixtape soundtrack. Count. Me. In.

Honorable mention goes to: Leavenworth* (STARZ), Modern Love (Amazon), All Rise* (CBS), Mrs Fletcher (HBO)

DUDS: On Becoming a God in Central Florida* (Showtime), Almost Family (FOX), Bluff City Law (NBC), Living With Yourself (Netflix)





BEST NEW HORROR/MYSTERY:

SPUD: American Horror Story, 1984 (FX)

WHY IT'S A SMASH: Well, it started with the underrated Frank Stallone classic, Far From Over, and it's about a summer camp serial killer in the 1980s. Obviously, it's #1. With a bullet. Or a knife.

Honorable mention goes to: Nancy Drew (CW), What/If (Netflix)

DUDS: Prodigal Son* (FOX), Evil* (CBS)









BEST NEW REALITY/TALK/GAMESHOW:

SPUD: A Very Brady Renovation* (HGTV)

WHY IT'S A SMASH: I have loved every second of this show! I literally sit there for an hour with a goofy smile on my face. HGTV bought the Brady house (which hadn't been on the market in 50 years), then the Property Brothers and other HGTV hosts worked with all SIX Brady kids to turn the house the used for the Brady exterior shots into an exact replica of how it looked on the inside, which was all filmed on a soundstage. It's trippy and nostalgic and so much fun!

Honorable mention goes to: What You Get For Your Money* (HGTV), Cash Cab* (Bravo), The Misery Index (TBS), The Kelly Clarkson Show - only because she sings in each episode and that part's pretty great (NBC)

DUDS: In a Man's World* (Bravo), Kids Say the Darndest Things* (ABC)



BEST NEW SHOW THAT I HAVEN'T SEEN YET

SPUD: The Morning Show (Apple TV)

WHY IT WILL BE A SMASH: Jennifer Aniston. Reese Witherspoon. Steve Carell. Mark Duplass. And Apple.  How can it go wrong? I got a free year's subscription to Apple TV with my new phone, and you can bet this will be the first thing I stream.













Disagree? See anything I missed?  Put the DVR on pause and comment below...

The (Not So) New Gilmore Girls Stunk and I Still Can't Get Over It

I know Gilmore Girls: A Year In the Life aired over Thanksgiving and today is Valentine's Day.

But I waited to post about it until now, in part because I didn't want to spoil it for anybody. And because I still can't believe they screwed it up so badly.

Also because I am lazy.

Man, I wanted to love it, but it broke my heart.

In all this time, I've thought about WHY I hated it (and my mom hated it, and my friends at work hated it).  Mainly, I think it's because the plot, the people, and the dialogue were SO ridiculous and out of character from the SEVEN seasons we all watched and loved, I honestly don't know why they bothered to do it at all.

You know the old saying, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all?

Not tonight.

Given that this is such a mother-daughter show, and I watched this whole series several times with my own mom, we couldn't wait to binge our way through the seasons. But we knew we entered an alternate universe when Winter started without even one note from Carole King, and it was downhill from there.

Here's why we want NO more Gilmore:

LORELAI, The Cool Mom

MOM: Lorelai was very dull. She wasn't chipper. She didn't have any spunk. Her dialogue wasn't cute or funny. She was dull dull dull.

ME: She dressed like a grandma. She stopped talking fast. She was depressed. She's in therapy. With her MOM. She read a book instead of watching a movie. She went H-I-K-I-N-G. In nature! Who the eff is this woman?

RORY, The Pride of Stars Hollow

MOM: OMG Rory,  What a hopeful, beautiful, smart, young lady she was. She knew exactly what she wanted.  She had her eye on being a journalist.  What happened to that girl?  She was a loser!  She didn't have the joy.  She couldn't do anything right. Just blew my mind.

ME: I get why she's trans-Atlantic friends with benefits with Logan. I might see how she went from following then president-elect Obama on the campaign trail to running the snoozy Stars Hollow Gazette. I can even live with the infamous "last four words" that brings the story full circle --  Logan is her Christopher. I'm NOT on board that a girl with so much potential is basically a failure. But what really I can't abide by is how Rory Gilmore had a one night stand (her first!) with a Wookie from ComiCon.  Unacceptable on a thousand levels.

EMILY, The Stuffy Grandmother

MOM: I like the mother. She was right getting mad at Lorelai. But it was like she had a lobotomy! The husband dies and she's like a nomad. Wearing rag tag jeans. She quits the DAR? Nobody checks on her -- nobody bothered?  It's like they didn't care about her any more since the father died.

ME: The JEANS! Were Emily's tweed Chanel suits burned in a fire? When did she start sleeping until noon?  Why is she living in Martha's Vineyard with the creepy dude from Twin Peaks? She works at a WHALE museum? She works?!?! Did she hit her head? Was Richard holding her captive for 50 years, and now she's letting her freak flag fly?  I need answers.

RICHARD, The Stuffy (and Dead) Grandfather

MOM: They didn't give the father the respect he should have gotten.  Especially with Lorelai, not even able to think of one wonderful memory and just made a joke out of a serious matter.  Absolutely disgraceful.

ME: Shameful! She couldn't tell a single nice story about her dad, who she actually had a good relationship with when he was living, and who made it possible for her daughter to go to private school and an ivy league college? The pretzel story was too little, too late. A shitty ending. Richard and his bowties deserved more.

LUKE, The Safe Choice

MOM: Luke's like a puppy dog.  He always there.  He's always loyal.  And he's always getting used. At least he had some spunk in the first series.  He stood up for himself as a man.  Now he just serves her.

ME: He's always been a devoted doormat. He was even an afterthought in his own wedding scene! And they clearly ran out of budget on pricey cameos (I see you Peter Krause), so they had to pull Luke's wardrobe out of mothballs. I'll bet you a donut that hat never left his head because his hair most certainly did.

LOGAN, The Rich Ex-Boyfriend Who Can't Grow Up

MOM: I thought that was ridiculous with Logan.  He asks her to marry him and she says no, that's not her focus.  Then you find out they're together on the sly while he's engaged to someone else?  Trashy. That's not Rory.

ME: Oh, Logan. He is trouble! I have to say, though, I def see the appeal there. But he's got to ditch the Peter Pan clan and rich kid antics with the Life & Death Brigade. It's called growth, people! And did we all forget that he already proposed to Rory, or did we wipe that memory clean because Amy Sherman Palladino didn't write it?

JESS, The Moody Ex-Boyfriend Who Can't Settle Down

MOM: I love the men in Rory's life but they were only there for a second -- especially Jess.  I couldn't understand why they didn't spend more time.  What was he doing with his life?  What happened to him?  I loved that character and he was there for 5 seconds.

ME: She hasn't seen him in years! Why is she so unfazed? Maybe she's been cyberstalking him and is trying to play it cool. Or maybe it's because they dated in real life and it didn't end so great. I'm going with the latter.

DEAN, The Dopey First Love

MOM: The other guy! Did he go to college?  Did he get married again?  He saw Rory for 2 minutes in a grocery store.  What a disaster!  Who wrote this? I loved this show!  You had such a good feeling.  It made you laugh. And cry. Some belly laughs even.  It was a such good story. I guess you can't improve perfection.

ME: He bored me then and he bores me now. So nothing's changed here. Adios, macaroni hair!

PARIS, The Frenemy Turned Fertility Doctor

MOM: Yes, that one makes sense. I like her now on How to Get Away with Murder.

ME: Yeah, she's intense. But how is she still hung up on Chad Michael Murray?!  He didn't even show up. C'mon!

LANE, The Sheltered Best Friend

MOM: Lane had a dad?

ME: Where the eff has Mr. Kim been all this time?  Never popped his head out of the antique shop.  Missed her wedding and her babies, and when she dyed her hair purple? And she's still in Hep Alien? No. Just no.

CHRISTOPHER, The Irresponsible Dad

MOM: The talk with her father went so fast.  He FINALLY got his act together and is no longer a failure.  It seemed like they haven't talked in a long time.  He didn't want to talk to her mother at all?  Who wrote this?  Seems like an alien wrote this!

ME: This made me angry! Not a single scene with "Lor"? Oh, no you didn't. It's the final straw. I. Literally. Cannot.



Now I'm all riled up again. Before we go, let's say something nice about the revival...

MOM: I can't say anything good about it.  The anticipation of watching it was fun.  But it was a letdown. That's it. The town is great -- I love the town.  It was the hope.  The same quaintness and light.  But then it seemed like the people weren't the same.  They have to grow but they were totally different.

ME: Samesies.


So how do you rate it?

MOM: I give it a C.  They made an effort.  I just didn't agree with it.

ME: You're grading on a curve.  I give it a ZERO.  I want those 6 hours back!


SO what do YOU think?  Do you agree?  Do you smell snow?  Write me a loveletter below...


tags: entertainment, family, pop culture, rants

Elf on the Shelf Is My Homie

Newsflash: It's Christmas and Elf on the Shelf is genius.

Okaaaay, I know this isn't news.  But it IS true.

I'm in Florida now at my parents' house with my niece & nephew.  Their elf, Roofie (don't ask), came along for the ride.

Man, I wish I invented this creeper!

The kids believe 1000%. The premise is simple: A stuffed elf sits in your house observing all the nice and naughty things that happen, then he flies to the North Pole each night to give Santa the scoop. When the kids wake up the next day, the elf is in a new spot, and the spying starts again.

Oh, and they can't touch him or all his magic rubs off and children everywhere cry.

Some people complain about this new tradition.  They say it's wrong to spy on kids.  Or to equate good behavior with gifts.  Or to perpetuate the "Santa Lie."

Those people are grinches.

The ONLY acceptable reason to complain about the elf is if you forgot to move him or you ran out of ideas for his merry hi-jinx.  And if that happens to you, do what this mom did and simply break his leg.  Then HE can't fly.  But YOU can still be lazy while also simultaneously tricking your kids into being good.

Win. Win.

While we're on this topic, I'd like to suggest 3 brand new holiday helpers:

DWARF IN A DRAWER

This clever gnome helps you find new-ish gifts around your home for all your last-minute, surprise holiday needs.

To keep you on the right path, he does not judge if you re-gift.

FROSTY IN THE FRIDGE

This icy buddy prevents you from overeating during the holidays and frowns on all midnight snacks, except carrots.

To keep you on the right path, he is in cahoots with your scale and your favorite pair of jeans.

DEER WITH A SCHMEAR

This four-legged fella brings you a bagel every morning in December. Because they are delicious. He is not friends with the fridge guy.

To keep you on the right path, he says nothing because he doesn't have a mouth and the holidays are stressful enough.




Hope your day was magical -- merry everything from a couple of Christmas cuties!

And Roofie...

Tags: family, holidays, pop culture

This Girl Is Bossy

I'm pretty sure this is the longest I've ever gone without writing a blog post.  (Cough.)  I'm so sorry, I've just been working really long hours lately and honestly, I haven't felt all that creative. 

But then I remembered, I love to blog! 

So here I am.

One of the things I've been working on is a campaign inspired by Sheryl Sandberg of Harvard, Lean In and Facebook fame -- she also recently became a billionaire (underachiever). She teamed up with the Girl Scouts to encourage girls to lead by banning the word "bossy" because it's belittling and sends a message that they shouldn't speak up.

Maybe you've heard of this?

Well, nobody can argue with wanting to empower young girls to be their best, but I think banning any word gives it way more power than it deserves. Plus, you can't ban ALL the words, right?  First bossy, then bratty, then bitchy. 

It doesn't end.

What you CAN do is get girls (and boys!) talking.  Give them the support and tools to handle whatever comes their way.  So, we made this video:



Aren't they great?!

As you know, I absolutely love doing stuff with kids, and seeing these 8 and 9 year old girls speak their minds reminded me of myself.  So I dug up this old photo of me at their age.

(Note the Wonder Woman bathing suit.  It was 1981 and she was awesome.  Still is.)

Back then, I was labeled a "social butterfly" by my teachers.  My parents thought I was a bit of a ham.  And yes, my little brother probably thought I was kinda bossy.  But he loves me anyway.

I'm sure over the years I have been called lots of things -- some good, some not. As a matter of fact, when I was a senior in college, a grown man once said, "God help the man who marries YOU," because I refused to leave his travel agency until he refunded my money (and the money of my 5 other girlfriends) after he overbooked our Spring Break trip to South Padre Island.  He cut a check that day.

Come to think of it, the old goat may have put a curse on me...

Bygones.

Point is this: Bossy is in the eye of the beholder.  This label -- or any label -- sometimes says more about the person using it than it does about the person they are trying to stick it on.  The trick is to stay true to yourself.

And those bossy tendencies?  They can be used for good!  Like, to stand up for someone, or to take charge of a situation, or to right a wrong. 

To be the boss.  Just like Springsteen.

So, what do YOU think?

I mean, I'm not the boss of you, but if I were I'd tell you to ask your kids what bossy means to them and upload a video to the social network of your choice using #BossyIs.

Or you could just show me pics of yourself in a superhero suit.  I'd like that too!


tags: family, jersey, rants, work

I Heart Rodolphe Lindt

(Note: This is a sponsored post for SheKnows Experts Among Us, but the taste test is all my own)

As you know, I've been enjoying Lindt LINDOR Caramel milk chocolate truffles at work each day (hard life, I know). 

Truth is, I have a total soft spot in my heart for these sweet treats because they make me think of my mom.

Each Christmas when I was growing up, we would head to Willowbrook Mall in scenic Wayne, NJ.  We'd take the escalator up to the 2nd floor, then make a beeline to the shops outside Lord&Taylor to pick up our favorite stocking stuffer. 

Any guess what that was?

Liver & onions! 

Kidding.  It was a big gold bag of Lindt LINDOR chocolate truffles from the Lindt store.  To this day, no holiday is complete without them.  Occasionally, we'd have a few left by the time Christmas Day rolled around.  Always a good idea to leave one for Santa... the man cannot live on cookies alone.

Anyway, at the time we took this photo (17 years ago!), I was a size 8, mauve curtains were all the rage, and that yummy chocolate goodness cost just $10.  But even today, it's an amazing value.

I suppose the same can be said for my pants.

Anyway, you might recall the first taste test I ever did was with a chocolate that melts in your mouth, not in your hands.  Well, THIS is the original that makes every day feel like a special occasion.

My parents live down in Del Boca Vista now, so they can't do this taste test with me, but I'm guessing they'll be pretty happy when I bring them the leftovers next month. 

(If they last that long.)

Join me on a sweet escape...

Recipe: LINDOR Caramel

Shell: milk chocolate infused with caramel
Center: caramel milk chocolate

Escape: major me time

Recipe: LINDOR Dark Chocolate

Shell: dark chocolate
Center: dark chocolate

Escape: medium me time

Recipe: LINDOR Extra Dark Chocolate

Shell: 60% cocoa extra dark chocolate
Center: dark chocolate

Escape: minor me time

Recipe: LINDOR Hazelnut

Shell: milk chocolate with hazelnut pieces
Center: hazelnut milk chocolate

Escape: major me time

Recipe: LINDOR Milk Chocolate

Shell: milk chocolate
Center: milk chocolate

Escape: major me time

Recipe: LINDOR Peanut Butter

Shell: milk chocolate
Center: peanut butter milk chocolate

Escape: massive me time
(yes, there are only 2 here -- I ate 1 during the photo shoot -- I am only human)

Recipe: LINDOR Stracciatella

Shell: white chocolate with cocoa pieces
Center: white chocolate

Escape: major me time

Recipe: LINDOR White Chocolate

Shell: white chocolate
Center: white chocolate

Escape: medium me time





Looks like I gravitate towards the salty-sweet combos -- the ultimate taste combination.  Like, anything and bacon (Lindt, are you listening?). 

What's YOUR chocolate personality?  Vote below! 

poll by twiigs.com

Wow, I got through this whole post without once saying, "life is like a box of chocolates!"

Oh. 

Oops...


tags: family, food, polls, taste tests

Girls

I have the best friends. 

Who knew that the major I arbitrarily chose (Communications) on my Fairfield University application waaay back in 1990 would lead to a life-long friendship with these girls?

I was just 17 when I met my college roommate.  Also named Jen.  Also from Jersey.  Also a brunette.  We got to know each other during freshman orientation in June 1991 because they grouped us based on major. 

We hit it off immediately, but were assigned different roommates originally.  Hers was a serious gal who was off to biology camp before classes started.  No bueno.  Mine skipped the standard get-to-know-you luau (?) in favor of a night snuggling on a bare mattress with her calculus book and a nightmask.

Yeah.  Needless to say, we ditched them.

We went home for the summer and decided we would room together in September.  Definitely.  But I lost Jen's information.  So I went to the library (remember those?) and found a big fat phone book (remember those?) and called some random family in her town with the same last name.  I must have sounded nuts, but they gave me her actual number anyway.  And the rest is history...

We met our other roommate, Jodi, shortly after.  I'd say it was about October 1991, when we were at a party thrown by our freshman facilitator -- also a Communications major.  He was a junior and super cute and named Rick. 

Aren't they all?

Anyway, she was dating his roommate, Bob.  And we were like Rick's little groupies.  So we saw each other fairly often at parties.  But we didn't really bond until one night when campus security came knocking.

Jodi and I were in the basement at Rick & Bob's townhouse, probably watching some guys play Beirut (aka beer pong).  They may or may not have gotten trenchmouth that night.  We heard security upstairs, breaking up the party.  A guy dove behind a couch yelling that he couldn't get written up.  Again.

This was our first brush with the law, so we ran to the best basement hiding spot we could find -- underneath the wooden, see-through stairs.  And instantly realizing the importance of fresh breath in this situation, we shared a piece of gum.  Gum that I was already chewing. 

That pretty much bonded us for life.

So, here we are, 22 years later.  And every time we get together, it's like no time has passed at all.  We're 18 again.  Even though we're all turning 40. 

I mean, we could still pass for 18, right?  Right.

Sorta?

Ok, you be the judge...

This is the first pic I could find of the 3 of us together.  We're 19 here.  And wearing each other's clothes. 
I cut out the person sitting to the left of me.  We hate her.
 

At the Dogwoods spring dance with the famous Judy Jetson dress.  I was at a different pre-party than they were,
but we were reunited at the dance.  You'd never know from our smiling faces that we are standing by the Porta-Potties.

We were a gang one Halloween.  Scary, right?

Parents' Weekend Wheat Thins.  Nothing but the best!

This is our junior year.  Take care of your teeth, kids, and they will take care of you.
 

It might look like we're in a bar here, but this was our home on a typical Thursday night.
There's a whole other keg where that beer came from...

This was one of many formals we went to.  I can't remember which one, but 100 bucks says Jodi knows.
 

Here's the 3 of us at a very soggy beach party called Clam Jam.  Check out the scrunchie on my wrist.
 

This is spring break in Acapluco.  Pretty sure we are all rocking scrunchies here too.
 

Our new best friends, the Acapulco cliff divers.  I think I was taller than all of Mexico.

Graduation day.  We lived at the beach.  Life was good.
 

Alumni weekend, maybe?  All I know is we all have the same lipstick on.
 

New Years Eve circa 1996 or 1997 at the Rebar.
 

Maybe another New Years.  Definitely another bar.
 

This was my 24th birthday in Newport, RI. 

My 25th birthday down the shore. Ever been to Manasquan?  You'd drink too.
 

Jen's wedding, such a fun day.  Not sure which was better -- the band or the cannoli they served
that was the size of a fireplace log.  My brother still talks about that one.

Jen's first birthday as a married lady.
 

Jodi's first place.  We took a picture in every room of the house.

Is this a wedding?  I can't tell.  I do know that my hair rejected that up-do by spitting out bobby pins all day.
 

Our 10 year college reunion.  Or our audition for Destiny's Child 2.
 

Our townhouse basement 10 years later.  Still stunk of beer. 
And under the stairs is still a terrible hiding spot.
 

My brother's wedding in Cape Cod.  They've known him since he was 13 and he was shorter than me.

Jodi's 40th birthday party.  Just like old times.

So these are my girls.  They are great daughters, sisters, wives, mothers, and friends.  Here's to 22 more years.  And 22 more after that! 

How did YOU meet your best friends?  Swap your gum -- and your stories -- below...


tags: family