My Bday in LA

Did I ever mention that I don't work on my birthday?

21 years ago today, I stood next to a copy machine at my first real job in Parsippany, NJ. I made $18K/year as an editorial assistant and I spent about 9 months there before starting my career in NYC, where I still work today.  

I just started. Nobody really even knew my name yet, let alone that it was my birthday. On that day in 1995, between collating and stapling and the overwhelming stink of toner, I vowed never, ever to work on my birthday again.

I was like the Scarlet O'Hara of the Xerox room.

After all, being a summer baby, I was used to not going to school on my bday.  I was used to not doing ANYTHING on my bday.  It was a day of relaxing!  

Now that I was a working girl (in the non-hooker way), it should be no different. I declared it a national holiday.

And I never, ever, EVER worked on my birthday again.

Until today.

Today, I find myself in Los Angeles about to kick off a huge event that we've been planning for the past 8 months.  If you squint and look really, really hard, you can see the Hollywood sign in the mountains.  That's the view from my hotel in downtown LA.

Since we're in Tinsel Town, of course there will be a few celebs at our event.  The most notable rhymes with Tim Tardashian. Should be fun!  You can follow along here on Friday & Saturday.

And tonight, my sweet and amazing team is taking me to dinner for Mexican.  So if my 22 year old self knew that my 43 year old self could have a work birthday like this, she might have looked more kindly on birthday workdays.

Still, next year, I think I'll go back to taking the day off.  I can try this all again in another 21 years when I'm 64.  

Oy.  That's depressing.  

Pass me some cake!

Do YOU work on your birthday?  Give me some tips in the comments below...

tags: holidays. travel, work

Freedom

Ahem... is this thing still on?

Hard to say.

I'm sorry.  I know it's been ages.

You probably can't tell but I think about writing a lot.  Really, I do!  I compose posts in my head all the time.  They just don't actually make it to any place where people can read them.

I will do better.

So, let's catch up.  In the last 2 months:

• My hair accidentally got dyed red.  It looked horrible.  Suffice it to say, I won't be going to Becky anymore.  It is now back to brown and all is right with the universe.
• I produced a huge event, which required me to work for a month straight, including weekends. 
• I also threw a 50th anniversary party for my parents in FL -- more on that in my next post.
• I binged on a bunch of new(ish) shows -- Bloodline (Netflix), Roadies (Showtime), American Gothic (CBS), Animal Kingdom (TNT), UnReal (Lifetime) and Casual (Amazon) are worth a spin. The Night Of (HBO) also looks promising.  And for a good old dose of nostalgia, I've been watching Gilmore Girls (Up) reruns on the phone with my mom while we wait for the new one.
• Speaking of nostalgia, I bought a pack of Fruit Stripe gum,  I used to love that as a kid.  It's terrible as an adult.  Itch scratched.
• I've developed a mild addiction to Bai antioxidant drinks.  I'm partial to Costa Rica Clementine, Kula Watermelon, and Andes Coconut Lime.
• I'm FINALLY off the steroids.  So, maybe I can get back to looking like myself.
• I started driving for Uber.

I'm kidding on that last one. I hate strangers!

But I COULD drive for Uber now if I wanted to, because... I got myself a new car! I figure after 8 loooong years of being car-free, I did my part to help the environment.

Birds, you're welcome.

Now, its a luxury SUV for me. It's fast and shiny and black and perfect.

A car is freedom.

Some people hate driving.  Not me.  I made myself a car playlist that's like a soundtrack to my life.  I got a trunk organizer.  I renewed my EZ Pass and I sit in Lincoln Tunnel traffic every day on the way to and from work.  But I don't even care!  I love every single second.

I leased the same kind of car I used to have but it's gotten quite an upgrade.  It's like a spaceship.  It's keyless and voice-activated.  It has sensors all around that beep when I'm too close to something (or something is too close to me).  I think it parks itself.  It doesn't drive itself but I bet it would call for a pizza if I asked it to.

One thing that thankfully hasn't changed is that Jersey Girls still don't pump gas.  The Garden State says "no thanks" to self-serve stations.  I never even knew that was a thing until I went to college in CT.  Let me go on the record to say it's absolutely barbaric to pump your own gas.  

I'm glad some things stay the same.

Another thing that's still alive and kicking is sexism at the car dealership!  I went in by myself to spend my own money on my own car.  Every other jackass in this very fancy place was just window shopping.  And there I was, checkbook in hand.  But you know the first question they asked after my name?  

Is that Mrs or Miss?  

Pump the brakes, Allen.  This isn't 1956.  And who knows, maybe I am married in a parallel universe where you are also tall, good looking, and smart.

Anyway, back to the good news: I have a car and I can go to Target anytime I want.

So, where else should I visit?  Tell me in the comments below!

tags: jersey, shopping, travel

Tales from Uber

If you haven't heard of Uber by now, you might be living under a rock.

Or maybe you just emerged from a coma?  If so, welcome back! Trump's running for President. Bacon is still delicious.

And Uber is a ride sharing service that was founded in 2009 and has roughly a $60B valuation (more than Ford or GM).  On Christmas Eve 2015, they gave their BILLIONTH ride.  Impressive!

But here's the surest sign it's here to stay: It's become a verb.

I've been "ubering" for about 3 years now. In fact, I snapped this pic the other night on my way home with Victor in his Toyota Camry. (It looks like there's nobody behind the wheel, but he's actually up there -- he was just... tiny.)

With the Uber app, professional drivers, ex-yellow cabbies and regular Joes and Janes come pick you up at the tap of a screen. Chauffeurs aren't just for millionaires anymore! Uber brings that luxury to the masses.

And while there are plenty of Camrys in their fleet, occasionally you get lucky with an Escalade, Suburban, Land Rover, Mercedes, or BMW.  That's nice.

Because nobody feels like a baller getting out of a minivan taxi that stinks like somebody's dinner.

Uber is for the people, by the people. There's no question they've permanently changed the taxi industry. But in order to truly enjoy the experience, you must immediately dismiss the idea that the total stranger who just picked you up is a murderer, kidnapper, drug dealer, pimp, or gun smuggler.  After all, you have their name, photo, license plate, and rating -- that's more than you get with a cab.

And Kalamazoo aside, I don't believe serial killers use apps that track their every move.

In fact, you meet some very cool people behind the wheel. Some drive full time, others just for extra cash.  I met a guy who was the only member of his family to survive the Haiti earthquake and was trying to get himself through medical school.  And the CFO of Steve's Ice Cream who was driving because they weren't pulling paychecks while building their business.  One guy picked me up in a special van -- he was in a wheelchair because he didn't have arms or legs -- and he drove great.  There was a guy in San Francisco who just did this on the way home from work so somebody would pay him to commute.  I even met a guy who kept free hot coffee in the car during the day and cold pizzas on weekend nights so he would get high marks.

I could go on.  Suffice it to say, it's an interesting mix.  But for the past year, I've done something really crazy.

No, no, I'm not driving for Uber (I don't like strangers and I don't have a car...yet). It's that I've taken HUNDREDS of Ubers from Feb 2015 until now.

533, to be exact.

Yes, you read that right.  Five HUNDRED thirty three.

I can feel you judging me.

I know this sounds bananas.

That's more than one a day!

Fact is, I've been commuting from Hoboken to NYC every day, to and from work, with everyone's private driver, Uber.  It started innocently enough... it was winter and I was cold.  I couldn't bear to walk 4 blocks along the river to the PATH trains, and another 4 loooong blocks in the city when I got out.

So I ubered. My office is at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. It took 15 mins vs. the normal 45. I'd be crazy NOT to.

I went back to my normal commute the next day, and they cancelled midtown PATH service to 33rd Street.  Only service to downtown -- World Trade Center -- was working.  This happened probably every 4-6 weeks. And every single time it gave me a panic attack.  All these years later, I still can't be in that building.

So that happened.  And it's exhausting doing flights of stairs and walking long distances now that I have this amazing chronic illness.

Well, that one cold day in February turned to two, then a week, then a month, then... you get it.

I also uber when I'm traveling -- I've used it in 8 cities over the past year.  But only about 15% of the 533 rides was work-related.  The rest of the cars are mine.

You'd think after spending FIVE figures with Uber in a year, they'd send me a muffin basket or something, but NOOOOOOO.

(And I know that sounds outrageously extravagant, but I have very few vices left in life.)

I'm an Uber VIP (obvi), and while there are basically zero tangible benefits to that distinction, I have learned a thing or two about this company.

Take these facts for a spin:

• DRIVERS ARE ALWAYS NEARBY: Uber's driver app includes a heatmap to show them where active accounts are -- the greater the concentration of signals, the better the chance somebody will need a ride. That's why they're rarely more than 10 mins away.
• ALL DRIVERS ARE NOT EQUAL: Uber classifies its drivers in four ways: Pros (Uber Black luxury drivers), Crossovers (professional drivers on Uber for less than 6 months), New Enthusiasts (amateurs who drive with UberX consistently), and Part-Timers (drivers who have another job and just drive UberX occasionally for extra cash). 
• 1 IN 10 DRIVERS ARE LADIES: 14% of Uber drivers are women. The company says they plan to have 1 million female drivers by 2020.
• THE CAR SHOULD BE NEW-ISH: Uber cars must be less than 10 years old and be four-door models. Once a person applies as a driver, a Pro-level driver in the area is asked to inspect the car and go for a test drive with the applicant. All drivers must also be over 21 and have been driving for at least 3 years.
• RATINGS MATTER, SORT OF: Ratings are another form of currency on the Uber platform. But most drivers don't have time to look at a passenger's rating before they accept a ride -- they only have a few seconds to decide before the fare gets passed to another driver. But if a DRIVER'S ratings drop below 4.6 (on a scale of 5), that's no bueno. They could get kicked out of the club -- though after this week, they'll need to receive a warning. If you're curious about your own rating, you can ask a driver or email support@uber.com and they'll tell you.
• THEY DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING: You put in your destination, but the driver doesn't know it until they pick you up. Then GPS takes over (most prefer Waze).
• EVERYONE HATES SURGE PRICING: Except for Uber. Pricing goes up based on an algorithm that estimates demand.  It could be because it's rush hour, or bad weather, or a holiday, or just that it's Friday night but when demand goes up, prices follow. I've seen it skyrocket to as much as 3x the normal price. Uber says it isn’t about gauging riders, its an incentive to get more drivers on the street to cater to the increased demand.  Uh huh.
• YOUR TIP MAY (OR MAY NOT) BE INCLUDED: Because the app is linked to your credit card, a passenger gets in and out without any money changing hands. Drivers keep 80 percent of that fare and Uber takes 20 percent. Accepting tips is against Uber policy because they say they've adjusted the time and distance calculations to include a gratuity.  Drivers say otherwise because it isn't a separate line item in their statements. Since I pay a $20 NJ fee to AND from the city (and the toll is only in one direction -- and half the price), that's plenty tip for me.

Uber isn't the only game in town, but it's the best.  Sure, there's Lyft, Via, Sidecar (RIP) and a bunch of others.  But really, who ever lyfted home from work?

Before I ride off, I do have one last confession: After all this time, I'm kinda over Uber.  How can this BE?  I know, it's like saying you're over chocolate, or babies or sunshine.  But spending all this time in OTHER people's cars has made me crave my own.

So, next I'll be car shopping -- I just might be ubering to the dealership.

Do YOU have a tale from Uber?  Share it below...


tags: pop culture, technology, travel

Up in the Air

I spent a good chunk of February flying the friendly skies.

I went to Phoenix, Orlando, Chicago, and San Francisco, on US Airways, United, JetBlue, American (first class -- woo hoo), Delta, and just today on Virgin America. I'm pretty sure 6 airlines on 4 trips is the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do to rack up miles.

Anyway, it was my first time on Virgin, so I was curious to see how it matched up to my first love, JetBlue.

I can say with confidence that Virgin wins on: cool boarding passes, mood lighting, and the most epic video in the history of safety (see it below -- srsly).

The airlines tie on: newness of planes, niceness of crew, good in-flight entertainment, and paid snacks.

JetBlue wins on: price, seat comfyness, stretchy legroom (by a kneecap), and yummy, unlimited free snacks.

So, JB is still my fave.  But VA was still pretty cool.  Know what wasn't cool?  The jerkoff who sat next to me.

Actually, let me be clear: Nobody was *technically* next to me. I was in my beloved window seat and HE was in the aisle seat.  But he sure made himself at home.

Sack full of his food on the empty seat?  Check.  His big fat carry-on bag on the empty floor?  Yup.  His drinks strewn about the empty tray table?  You bet.  Mind you, this is in addition to is OWN actual seat/floor/table.  He spread his shit out like he was the Oscar Madison of the skies.

An empty middle seat is a gift!  It is not to be taken lightly!  I don't understand how someone could be so arrogant and presumptuous to take up all that neutral shared space. I wanted to say something but I thought, I'm stuck with this fool for 5 hrs, let's not make it miserable.  But my blood boiled with each item that inched my way.

About 3 hours in, gum wrappers were my final straw. I leaned over Garbage Mountain and asked...

"Did you purchase this seat?"
"No," he sneered.
"You're ALL OVER the place!" I said, while waving my hands around. "I'm just in this tiny little spot!"
"Well..." he stammered, "you can use it too."
"WHERE?!?"

Message delivered. He began packing up the junk.  The food bag went inside the carry-on bag, he folded up the spare tray, and miracle of miracles, he found room for his drinks on his table. But the war wasn't over.

This grown man fought back with an "assive" aggressive gas attack that stunk like death and toenails.

Vile human.

We didn't speak again until it was time to de-plane.  We were in row 17, and he sat until the bitter end, blocking me in even though I was actively getting scoliosis because I'm too tall to stand under an overhead bin.

At that time, he turned to me and shouted, "YOU'RE VERY RUDE!!"

My head almost popped off.

Then, he scurried away in a fart cloud.

So, did I overreact?  (maybe.)  Did he deserve it?  (yes.)  Do two rudes make a right?  (I dunno.)

Vote in the poll:


Ok, okaaaay, maybe I need to cool my jets. Or start calling myself Maverick.  I blame the 'roids.

Let's end on a high note with that safety video.  It's worth a watch.  I dare you not to smile and sing along:



tags: polls, travel

Me Time

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

I'm in serious need of some "me time."

You'd think because I'm single, and I don't have any kids, or a yard to rake, and just the one job, that I'd have sweet, sweet me time coming out my ears. 

But I don't.

What I might REALLY need is a lesson in time management, but that's not the point of this post.  Between work, and travel, and life, and my mildly unhealthy obsession with TV, there simply aren't enough hours in my day. 

I suppose sleeping is the ultimate me time, but I prefer to be conscious when I'm relaxing.

It's going to be a while before I can get lost again in a new Ikea catalogue, so here are 5 more ways I'd like to escape from the everyday: 

Anywhere Me Time: Writing
You might recall, I started this blog in 2008 as a way to get back into writing novels (ok, manuscripts that wish to grow into published novels one day).  But I actually wound up loving blogging for blogging's sake.  A novel is a commitment.  A blog post is a fling.  That's more my speed these days.   

At Home Me Time: Painting My Nails
I should seriously have my head examined for the amount I spend on nail polish.  You might think I was a 13 year old girl, but then you'd quickly realize a 13 year old girl could never earn enough in babysitting money to afford a collection like mine.  It's impossible for me to leave CVS without a new shade (Sally Hansen is my BFF) and don't even get me started about my bi-weekly trips to Sephora (I'm currently cheating on Butter London with Marc Jacobs, shhhhh). I find professional manicures thoroughly uncomfortable, but painting my own fingers and piggies is delightful.

In the Air Me Time: Reading a Magazine
You know what I love about JetBlue, besides the legroom, and the snacks, and the TV?  I love the fact that you can't get wifi.  You know what that means?  Hours of unplugged, uninterrupted time to read my all-time fave, Food Network Magazine, cover to beautiful cover.  It's heaven.  I usually also pick up US and Life & Style (which I hide inside the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly).  While everyone else is busy pretending to turn their electronics off by slipping them into the inexplicably insufficient "airplane mode," I'm lost in a story about the RHONJ because you can't power down a magazine.

Out & About Me Time: Grocery Shopping
I'm an advertiser's dream -- I'm crazy brand loyal and yet can't wait to try all kinds of new products.  If a commercial told me toothpaste was a vegetable, I'd probably believe it.  I prefer to go to the grocery store alone so I can take my time and leave no section unexplored.  It's not as fun here in the city (with the exception of Fairway).  I take my REAL grocery me time in the 'burbs, where the aisles are wide and the prices are low.  Beer, wine, Ensure?  I'll take them all.  You never know...

At Work Me Time: An Afternoon Treat
I'm not a coffee drinker.  Or a smoker (gross).  Or a person with Restless Leg Syndrome who needs to get up every 10 minutes.  So I don't often have an excuse to leave my desk during the day, unless I'm headed to a meeting.  But I actually don't need to get up to get away.  There's a tiny chocolate escape that lives in my desk drawer and calls my name around 4pm.  Can you hear it too?  Right now, I'm pretty partial to Lindt LINDOR Caramel Milk Chocolate Truffles.  They're a smooth and creamy trip for my taste buds.  In fact, I just might have to eat one now.  Ok, two.  Alriiight...maybe three.


So, how do YOU find me time?  List your favorite ways below, and then go do them! 

Unless reading my blog is part of your me time ritual, in which case, please read on.  Who am I to stand between you and sheer literary pleasure?


tags: beauty, food, shopping, travel, writing

Another Night at The Roxbury

Four years ago, I visited two dear friends who built a motel in the Catskills.  I've been wanting to go back ever since.  And a week ago, I finally did. 

To call The Roxbury a motel, hotel, resort, inn, or lodge doesn't do it justice. 

Really, it's an experience.

Remember that place you stayed that you thought was super cool?  This is super cooler. 

The best destinations are always innovating.  Go to Las Vegas or Times Square or Disney World and it's different every time you visit.  The same thing happens at The Roxbury. 

Every square inch has been given purpose.  Every corner reveals a new surprise.  Every sense is invited to the party. 

You could seriously spend a month there and have a different experience every single night.  I'm totally temped to do that so I can indulge my alter egos.  Sweet as pie like Maryann from Gilligan's Island one night.  Kickass 70's glam like Charlie's Angels the next. 

This time, I went for the newest jewel in The Roxbury crown -- The Digs.  It's a standalone 3-bedroom cottage that is a tribute to adventure movies, complete with a legend, a curse, secret passageways, an underwater tomb, and more golden artifacts than you can shake a whip at.

I should warn you first -- most of my pics stink.  The best way to appreciate this masterpiece is to book a trip.  Seriously.  Go ahead. 

I'll wait...

Ok, good. 

Now, ditch your fear of snakes (there's only alligators and deadly fish here), don't call me junior, and grab your bomber jacket.  It's going to be a wild ride...



The adventure starts with Avis.  They really do try harder. 
Like when they give you a Mustang for the price of a Ford Focus. 

Enjoy the 3 hour trip while listening to Taylor "I Knew You Were Trouble" Swift on repeat.
Just like Indy would.  Remind yourself that the green stuff you see is called trees and grass.

You arrive.  This whole place is yours. 
You marvel how your entire apartment can fit on the deck.

Hello, Sphinx.

You won't believe what's behind this psychedelic door.

Beware of the giant boulder chasing you down the hallway.
The snake wallpaper was designed by Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo fame. 
You whip it good in his honor.

You escape into hidden passageway #1, which holds a Mayan Calendar and a Murphy bed. 
What more could you want when the world ends?

You study up on the legend of The Digs.

Settle into the cozy living room, filled with treasures.  What you can't quite see over the fireplace is
a giant television, which is programmed to play mood music when you arrive. 
Or maybe that was just for me, because I don't worship golden idols.  I worship TV.

This is somebody else's photo, but I couldn't resist using it.  The fireplace is gorgeous.
And filled with gold coins.

Ok, I can't wait any longer -- THIS is the best part of the adventure.  Your very own exotic fishtank!
I'm not showing you who's inside until later...

You look up and realize every nook and cranny of this place has the most amazing details.
Tucked away on the left is a special idol that sits under a skylight so it glows from sunrise to sunset.

You notice the masks on the wall and feel like somebody's watching you. 
Inside hidden passageway #2, maybe they are!

The bright sunlight ruins your picture of the gourmet kitchen, but you can still see it's beautiful.
You are so in love with all the counterspace this kitchen has that you are tempted to lay on it.
But you don't.

Your journey has made you parched, so you stop for a sip of your enemy's blood.
From a crystal skull.

You wander into the hallway, lined with books from floor to ceiling.

You can access about 5 different rooms in the secret library hallway. 
Pulling on the right books open the doors.  Just like in Scooby Doo!



Remember that fishtank from the living room?  You can see it from the bathroom too! 
You pass out from excitement.

When you come to, you see Cleopatra's sarcophagus under water, protected by exotic fish. 
The lionfishes are pretty. 
This puffy one in the front has creepy teeth and stares at you while you shower.
 

You paint your nails in tribute to the gold tiles that line the shower.
Then you have a midnight photo shoot to celebrate how well they match.

 

You are spoiled by all the luxurious bath products.  Even better are the ceramic hairdryer and gigantic bath sheets. 
While this is an adventure, you are very pleased you don't have to get all MacGuyver
with a bathmat, washcloth, and hairband to patch together enough towel to wrap around your body.

 

The photo you take of this room looks like a giant brown blob.  So you pull one off the Internet
so every inch of this brown leather masterpiece, including the handmade bullwhip canopy, can be appreciated.

 

You lose your head and forget to take more pictures of the second bathroom, which is lined
from floor to ceiling with crocodile and alligator skins. And you realize you don't know
the difference between a crocodile and an alligator.

You accidentally delete the photo you took of the most beautiful bed you've ever seen.  Thank God for Google. 
You can't tell if you feel like you're floating down the Nile because the bed was almost lost
in a tsunami on the way to the Roxbury or because the bedding is fluffy like a cloud. 
Either way, it's the best night's sleep you've had in a year.

Hello, pretty lady.

You're surprised that a chair this beautiful can also be comfortable.

You peek your head outside to your own private grotto and outdoor shower. 
You are tempted to shower again.

You discover a romantic sitting area outside the grotto.  You make a mental note that if you
ever have a boyfriend again, you'll take him here.  Until then, you name the statue on the table Chuck.

You follow the path down to a babbling brook and think that the true adventure would be if you
pretended to check-out then secretly moved into the barn...

Are your bags packed yet?  Which room would YOU stay in -- Cleopatra with the golden sleighbed, Indy with the bullwhips overhead, or the Mayan temple hideaway bed? 

Choose your own adventure below...
 

tags: travel

The Window Seat Is the Best Seat on the Plane

I've seen a lot of airports lately -- JFK, LaGuardia, O'Hare, DFW, Phoenix, Orlando -- and I've flown almost as many airlines. 

Most of them stink.

It's as though a bunch of execs piled in a room and brainstormed ways to squeeze every last ounce of fun out of air travel. 

Got a bag bigger than a lunchbox -- that'll be $25 to check it.  Oh, you wanted a seat that reclines?  That's $45.  And you'd like a fresh blanket that hasn't been recycled or covered with pee?  $10 please.

Even when you're flying cross-country, could they tack 75 cents onto the ticket price so they can toss you a "free" snack?

Nooooo.

Except glorious JetBlue. 

In my mind, they are the only airline that still cares that the plane ride is part of the journey, not the means to an end.  They still feed you snacks (as many as you'd like!) -- and I'm not talking 6 sweaty peanuts in a napkin.  Actual, brand-name, snack-sized snacks.

In fact, I got caught in one of those furlough disasters last month and they brought unlimited snacks and waters to the gate at JFK, where we were stuck for 8 hours while they sorted out who was on air traffic control in Chicago that day.  (I thought you were?  No, I thought YOU were!)

I had 3 bags of animal crackers.  It's the little things.

The cherry on top is that you can watch TV on all JetBlue flights.  Frankly, I could endure pretty much anything if I can watch TV while doing it.  Turbulence, my neighbor's bad breath, a screaming child kicking my seat?  Whatevs. 

I only have eyes for HGTV.

Regardless of the airline you fly, every bad flight can be made better when you're in the right seat.  Of course, the middle seat is ridiculous and should be outlawed.  But there's always controversy over whether the aisle or the window is better real estate. 

Let me clear this up:  The window seat is the best seat on the plane.

You can slide in there and never move.  Somebody has to go to the miniature rest room?  Not your problem.  Someone needs to throw out their trash?  Hand it to someone else.  Somebody's hogging the arm rest?  Go for it, you've got an armrest -- and a window -- all to yourself.

Sure, it's annoying when the lady next to you is all up in your space because she wants to look out your window (yes, Amelia Earhart, we're in the air -- get over it).  But isn't it worse when you're on the aisle and people keep hitting you in the shoulder with the beverage cart (most airline's last tie to civilization) and their butts?

Yes it is.

Am I right?  Of course I am.  But just for fun, where do YOU prefer to sit?  Vote below...

poll by twiigs.com

tags: polls, travel

Miss Jennifer Goes to Washington

Well, it’s over. And my mind? Blown.

I don’t think I can adequately describe the events of this past weekend in DC, leading up to the Kids' State Dinner at the White House.  It's all a wonderful, swirly blur in my head -- probably like when you get married and you need to see the video so the amazingness of the event really sinks in.

I’ll let these pictures tell the story…

The invite heard 'round the world.

We arrived at the Westin Georgetown on Friday, a few days ahead of time to get the lay of the land. 
Great hotel and staff -- the perfect place to host our families and make them feel special.

Then, the cookbooks arrived.  Look at all those cutiepies!

I swung by The White House to pick up a package for the kids...

A letter from the First Lady welcoming them to DC!

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, groceries were arriving for 54 families so we could give them some healthy snacks.
(Nevermind, Amex fraud alarms set off when they saw I bought $600 worth of goodies in a city I don't live in!)

Ever wonder what a mini-fridge full of milk looks like? (Hint: It's something like this)

Next, it was time to assemble the gift bags.  Sure, award shows might give out diamond sunglasses or trips to Tahiti. 
But do they have snazzy aprons and potholders?  I think not!

Meanwhile, Delta generously flew in families from 54 different states and territories.  For some kids, it was their
first plane trip.  (Hey, that Montana pilot looks a little young, no?)

Goodbye, Hawaii.  This little munchkin had her sights set on DC!

On Sunday, it was time to welcome our Junior Chefs!

This fine southern gentleman from Louisiana brought his grandpa, and some hotsauce and Mardigras beads for us! He writes a great blog
called the Jr. Food Critic, and I hear his fish tacos sure were tasty.

Michigan, meet South Carolina!



North Dakota's ready to whip up a batch of Turkey Vegetable Soup!

Outside the Smithsonian (in the rain) was our social media maven, Siobhan -- her lightning-quick fingers burned through at least 2 batteries posting all the fun to our networks so friends, families, and fans at home could follow along.

Here's Rhode Island with Julia Child, who would have been 100 years old on August 15th. Read more about this on her mom's blog, The Whole Bag of Chips.

While the group was treated to a private tour of the new Julia Child kitchen exhibit...



We got the Westin's Washington Ballroom ready for a pizza party (with veggies and whole wheat crust, of course).

Our People Magazine super chefs from Oklahoma, Texas, and North Carolina.

That's Vermont showing her USA pride!



Californians sure know how to party!

New Jersey, Nebraska, and DC, can I have your autograph?

Arizona, Maryland, and Hawaii wait patiently for the bus on Monday morning.  Did any of us sleep a wink?

Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, and Vermont are all smiles.

After a quick morning tour of DC, it was time for the Main Event.  Such a good lookin' bunch!

Striking a pose with a handsome young guy from Missouri.

Making our way up the walk.

At the security gate!

Wisconsin has wanted to be a "cooker" since age 3 -- can't wait to try her BBQ Cheddar Chickpea Burgers!

We make it inside and are greeted by famous White House photos... of pets!

And kids...

And dances.

Then came our official introductions and the media line.  So proud of these kids!

Here's Montana -- when she's not busy flying planes, she's making her delicious garden chicken pizza!
(Official White House Photo by: Sonya N. Hebert)

Families (including mine!) were able to watch our entrance on the live stream. Here I am, alongside an interview
of our Texas winner. You can watch the full entrance ceremony here.

We were escorted upstairs to the Grand Foyer where the Marine Corps band played, "When You Wish Upon a Star."

I'm thinking balloon giraffes aren't commonly seen at State Dinners.  Good thing he's sticking close to Connecticut. 

Willy Wonka himself couldn't have made more colorful, edible decorations.

Next we took photos with the First Lady in the Blue Room.  I don't have a pic of that -- yet -- but I can tell you she wore a stunning blue-green dress and cute blue shoes, she is taller than me (even in heels that made me close to 6ft tall!), and was an extremely warm and gracious hostess.



Next up was the East Room, the largest room in The White House.  That portrait of Martha Washington was painted in 1878.  It also contains their oldest artifact, a painting of George Washington that was rescued from the 1814 fire.

The rustic decor was amazing, from the farmtables to the vegetable centerpieces to the mason jar water glasses. 

We made it!!!

My seat -- and this is the Reagan china (a gorgeous red and gold dish after my own heart).

Behind the scenes, the chefs prepped our healthy meal, cooked in a kitchen no bigger than the stage!
(Official White House Photo by: Sonya N. Hebert)

CBS interviews Texas -- the Secret Service inspired his salad recipe and he hopes to be an agent one day.

Next up: Arizona.  This lovely lady has one heck of a handshake -- she's the most poised girl I've ever met!

Maybe one day, she'll be standing behind this podium!

Until then, Tanya will keep it warm.  This contest wouldn't exist without her vision and mission for healthy eating. 
And I have the pleasure of working with her every day!  (She's just as awesome as you think she'd be.)

In addition to co-authoring the book, Portion Size Me, and being a judge of the contest,
this impressive 12 year old got to introduce The First Lady.

The First Lady spoke of the importance of healthy eating, and took time to plan this whole lunch with her staff.  She was worried that the kids might get bored (!?!) so she invited the balloon guy and the band, Big Time Rush. Can you imagine getting that call?

Next, it was time to dig into a few winning recipes.

After munching on New York's crispy kale chips, we were served Arizona's tasty salad of quinoa,
black beans, and corn, with tomatoes, onions, and avocado.

I had an inkling there might be a special guest, since the cameras were supposed to leave after the opening remarks, but were still filming us eating lunch.  I thought it might be the girls.  I was wrong.  (That's my giant noggin on Nightline when they made the announcement.  Virginia, sitting behind me, looks just as surprised!)

Here's the President "crashing" the State Dinner.  He joked with the kids not to drop any food scraps on the floor
because their dog, Bo, was on a diet!

Then, he went around the room, and shook hands.  Every.  Single.  Hand.  Beyond impressive.
Here's a special moment for our winner from North Carolina.
(Photo: Saul Loeb, AFP/Getty Images)

This cable news station showed the President shaking my hand, but my back was to the camera, so it might be me... 
or it could be Cousin It in a blue sweater.  This one's definitely me.

Here's POTUS shaking my colleague Bari's hand.  She may never wash it again!
(Photo: Jim Watson / AFP - Getty Images)

Then, it was back to the food.  Kansas' cabbage sloppy joes and North Carolina's baked zucchini fries hit the spot.

I'm sure this butler has seen lots of strange things on the floor of The White House. 
A menagerie of balloon animals is probably a new one.
(Photo: Pablo Martinez Monsivais / AP)

It was a sweet ending with Hawaii's strawberryanna smoothie and South Dakota's summer fruit garland.

But the cherry on top was a mini-concert by Nickelodeon's Big Time Rush. 
(Pssst... download Windows Down, a catchy little tune, if ever I've heard one!)

A few fans from Alabama, New Mexico, Nevada, Louisiana, Arizona, and Ohio got a front-row seat.
(Official White House Photo by: Sonya N. Hebert)

Look at these Idaho beauties. (Teen Vogue, I think we spotted a new trend -- and your next covergirl!)
(Photographer: Stephanie Green/Bloomberg)

After we ate, White House assistant chef (and hottie) Sam Kass took us on a tour of the Kitchen Garden
and stopped for a pic with the lovely ladies from Puerto Rico.

On our way outside, we passed through this room.  I'm not sure what it's called, but isn't it just what you'd imagine a White House sitting room would look like?  I'm told there are 132 rooms, 35 bathrooms, and 6 levels in The White House. There are also 412 doors, 147 windows, 28 fireplaces, 8 staircases, 3 elevators.  (And a partridge in a pear tree.)

We strolled by the Rose Garden.  Or maybe it was the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden.  Either way, it was
loaded with pretty pink roses.

Even Bo made an appearance, and I'm pretty sure he came over in a limo.

Sam shows Louisiana, Mississippi, and Delaware the pumpkins growing in the garden.

And then shows the guys from North Dakota, Tennessee, New York, and Alaska a giant watermelon.

Even The White House honeybees were busy making honey for our visit.

Your typical woodland creatures: squirrels, birds, deer, rabbits.  And whales!
(Official White House Photo by: Chuck Kennedy)

All in all, a magical, humbling, unforgettable, incredible day.

So there you have it.  Honestly, the weekend couldn't have gone better if it was a Hollywood production.  Plus, nobody went missing (except 1 boy -- briefly -- but we found him!).  And the only tears were happy tears (except 1 girl -- briefly -- but we found her cookbook!).

The media was unlike anything I've ever seen.  Over 1,500 news outlets covered the event.  Washington Post.  New York Times. CBS.  CNN.  NBC.  Nightline.  Time for Kids.  Bloomberg.  USA Today.  Daily News.  The Late Show.  All of these little people being recognized for all the right reasons makes me smile.

The vast majority of the feedback on our event on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest was overwhelmingly positive too (though a few bad apples did try spoiling the bunch with their negativity). As an American, it’s a true honor to be invited to The White House, regardless of who sits behind the desk in the Oval Office. I feel sad for anyone who can’t separate politics and partisanship from a program that empowers kids and advocates healthy eating.

Professionally, it was a career highlight that is unlikely to be matched. Personally, I got tremendous joy from experiencing this through the eyes of these amazing kids. I am totally inspired and feel proud to have met them and their families!

If you'd like to download a copy of the winning recipes, visit our site.  From Apple Aliens to Secret Service Super Salad, you'll find nutritious, tasty, and creative meals for kids of all ages. 

Now, don't be shy -- list YOUR favorite healthy lunch below...


PS: Thanks a TON for helping me decide what to wear.  As you can see, I went with the outfit from The Gap, based on the popular vote.  It doesn't get much more American than that!



tags: food, politics, travel, work