Fourteen

What do Amy Winehouse the singer, Katie Lee the chef, Nas the rapper, Robert Herjavec the millionaire from Shark Tank, and this blog have in common?

They were all born on September 14th, of course!

If my blog were my kid, she'd be a freshman (freshwoman? freshperson? I dunno.) in high school by now. 

Can you believe it?  Do you still read it?

Probably not, considering how infrequently I write it.  

But for the true fans (aka my blood relatives) that still do pop in periodically, I know I haven't done an anniversary post in a couple years.  

You know why.

Let's fix that today!  So, as we've done in 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 and 2019, let's take a look back at the past THREE years.

Total Posts I've Written (including this one):
341

Average Number of Posts I Write Per Month:
0.6 (DOWN from 0.7 last time -- must do better!)

Average Number of Unique Visitors Per Month:
398 (DOWN from 526 last time -- I blame the pandemic, and the fact that I never write anything new)

Average Pageviews Per Month:
2,005 (DOWN from 2,981 last year)

Most Traffic Comes From:
Tie between Google and Pinterest

Most-Read Blog Posts in the Past Three Years:

2020: Day 60

2021: Never Forget & Bye Bye Boken (tie)

2022: Enough

Most-Read Blog Posts Ever (in order of popularity):
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Pinterest (December 2012)
Which Christmas Cookie Are You? (December 2015)
A Gluten-Free Holiday Feast (December 2014)
Farewell, Crawleys (March 2016)
Dear Stores that Close on Thanksgiving (November 2015)
Grease Is the Word (January 2016)
Election Eve (November 2016)
Freedom (July 2016)

To Date or Not to Date (October 2008)
20 Apps I Adore (January 2012)

Posts Nobody Gave a Crap About:
2020: My Corona

2021: Dear 2021

2022: Happy Birthday, George Jetson

Most Comments:
Ummm, nobody comments anymore... better luck next year!

Most Popular Poll:
I didn't do any this year.  Poo.
Up in the Air (all-time)

Most Frequently-Used Tag for the Posts I Write:
It used to be Pop Culture

Now it's Rants (a sign of the times?)

Most Popular Search by Visitors:
Dating

Lastly, My Favorite Posts I've Written in the Past Three Years (tie):

2020: 10 Things I Wish I Knew Before My Mom Spent 5 Weeks in ICU

2021: Two Truths and a Lie

2022: The Last Time & Dear 1800-FLOWERS


So, there you have it.  A look back to remind myself -- and hopefully you -- that I really do love this blog.  I am still writing about TV shows when the mood strikes, but this one has a special place in my heart.

And finally, if the frosted chocolate cake above looks delicious to you, here's how you can make it. 

For me.

Thanks (as always) for reading!

Happy Birthday, George Jetson

The Internet was all abuzz that futuristic cartoon father, George Jetson, was born today. Here's how the math works:

    1962 (the year The Jetsons first aired)
    + 100 (the number of years in the future) 
    = 2062 (the year show was set) 

    - 40 (the age George is when the show starts)
    = 2022 (the year George was born)

I'm not sure how the day came to be July 31st, but the Internet says it's true so it must be, right? 

Of course, 90% of TikTok doesn't know who he is, but I loved this show as a kid. Meet George Jetson, his boy Elroy, daughter Judy and Jane his wife! All swirling in a shiny world full of talking robots and cars flying high above the clouds.  

It was a trip, and I was along for the intergalactic ride.

There were only 24 cosmic episodes in the original run, and it was ABC's first show in color.  But looking back, those crazy kids at Hanna-Barbera were really on to something with this fantasy. In fact, they predicted a whole bunch of genius things that we all use today -- and can't live without.

The future is now, my friends!

Check this out -- 13 times The Jetsons were right...

House Cleaning Robots

Flat Screen TVs

Digital Newspapers

Video Conferences

Smart Watches

Talking Alarm Clocks

Electric Toothbrushes

Telehealth Visits

Drones

Electric Scooters

Self-Driving Cars

Doggie Treadmills

Space Tourism

Now, if they would just invent the Food-a-Rac-a-Cycle that cooks all your meals to order. Or better yet, that button you press that folds up the dinner table -- food, dirty dishes and all -- so you don't have to clean up, I'd be in heaven!

Hey, Elon Musk, once you're done with electric cars and space ships, please get on this...

Enough

Mass shootings.  I haven't written about this topic for 10 years.  

I try to keep it pretty light around here, but sometimes I have to talk about the heavy stuff. Like in 2012, when I wrote about the massacre at Sandy Hook.  Since then, countless others have lost their lives and loves to senseless violence.

Today's mass shooting hit particularly close to home. 

It was in Highland Park, IL, a quiet suburb of Chicago where my brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew live.  I thank God that they are here in Florida right now, away from the madness, but they easily could have been at the July 4th parade on Main Street in their hometown.

When did going to a PARADE become a life or death decision?

The news that's been coming out all day is devastating.  So many innocent people are hurting.  And I feel that.  But I'm mad, too. It's been 23 YEARS since Colombine in '99, and yet here we are -- another young man with a gun decides to unleash his rage on an unsuspecting community of sitting ducks. 

How?

WHY?

And what the eff is wrong with our leaders that they can't -- or won't -- address these unthinkable events that occur with horrifying regularity?

Look, I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I do know this: The solution is not one-note.  

Ban all assault weapons? Sure, semi-automatic rifles are definitely part of this problem, but as I said 10 years ago, a ban will really only affect the law-abiders among us.  Criminals will still do whatever they want. That's what they do -- they're criminals.

Mental health is another component of this, no doubt -- the destigmatization of mental illness, access to help, real resources for family and friends, and early detection of warning signs before tragedy strikes are all needed.

But if we're being honest, access to weapons and unchecked mental health issues have been around for DECADES, if not centuries, right? Why is this boiling over in the 21st?  What's so different about the time we live in now?  

I think the answer is the Internet.

It is the most powerful invention of my lifetime, putting the world quite literally in the palm of our hands. It has the capacity to do wonderous things, to connect people, to know everything -- the possibilities are limitless.  I mean, I've made a living doing all things digital for the past 20+ years, so I obviously love it. 

But as we all know, there is also a very dark side to the Internet. And I think THAT is the biggest factor as to why we've seen a sickening surge in mass shootings since it came to be.

To me, there are 3 reasons the Internet is the tipping point for all this death and destruction:

• Easy Access. Access to information on how to do horrible things. Access to others who share your warped views.  Access to places that sell questionable and dangerous items which can be used to do harm.  Access to videos and games that help you simulate the terrible act you're about to commit. Anything or anyone is just a click away. 

• Instant Notoriety. Mix a 24-hour news cycle that craves fresh content with the social media like-cycle (and the dopamine hit you get when something goes viral), and you've got a recipe for disaster -- especially for someone who feels wronged, dismissed, or overlooked by society. 

• Emotional Detachment. The Internet is a place to connect AND disconnect.  So keyboard warriors can say hurtful things they'd never say to someone's face, or gamers can slaughter hundreds for sport. We've created a generation that can do and say sick things online and never blink an eye. Is it that much of a leap that this mindset extends to real life?

Our leaders -- ALL of them over the past 20+ years -- have failed us at every opportunity to seriously address this epidemic. Since technology helped us get into this mess, let's use it to help us get out.

Here are 2 ideas:

• Monitor the Internet. There are LOADS of red flags uncovered in someone's digital footprint AFTER they've done something unthinkable. Social media manifestos. email threats and dangerous search histories abound in a predictable pattern of behavior that leads up to these heinous acts. What if we got ahead of that to prevent it from happening in the first place? If we can flag Covid misinformation, surely we can do this.

• Install Listening Devices. If Alexa can listen for your favorite song, and Siri can call your mom, imagine if these devices existed in schools, churches, temples and other vulnerable places? It wouldn't require a child crouching in a closet to call 911 on their cell phone, the room would already be listening for cries for help and gunshots to automatically alert the authorities and send help immediately. Are YOU listening Google, Facebook and Apple?

Is this controversial?  Yes. Is it a slippery slope?  Maybe.  But what we've been doing isn't working. 

I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I know we need to do something different.  Now.

Enough is enough.

Dear 1800-FLOWERS

Sunday is Mother's Day. But, you already knew that.

 

It's probably a pretty huge holiday for you, right?

After all, not everybody celebrates Christmas.  And birthdays come just once a year.  But everybody has, or had, a mom. And all us kids, no matter how big or small, like to show our love with cards and gifts and brunches and flowers and... berries.

Like millions of others, I went online the other day to order something special for my mom. And I stumbled upon your company, Shari's Berries. 

"Send a smile," they said!

That sounds nice, right? So I ordered a dozen chocolate covered strawberries and 9 strawberry cheesecake bites, pictured here.

Plump, juicy strawberries with creamy cheesecake bites, both covered in chocolate, all for the bargain price of $114.46.  I know you're not taking advantage of this holiday at all.  Besides, mom's worth it.  And it looks so yummy, she's absolutely going to love it, right? 

Wrong.

My gift was scheduled to arrive today.  At 6:30pm I received an email from you that a delivery attempt was made but no one was home.  Huh.  We were, in fact, home and nobody ever knocked on the door.  So I called customer service and spoke to a women who told me to ignore this message, that the driver was in my area and would be here soon.

Hooray!  I was relieved.  But I bet YOU can guess what happened next...

No one ever arrived. 

So, I called you again at about 7:45pm and spoke to another representative.  She told me that my order was now scheduled for delivery tomorrow, and I told her that was an issue.  

I specifically chose delivery TODAY because we were not going to be home tomorrow.  And since this was a perishable order that sat on a delivery van all day, I wasn't sure if it would even be good when it finally was redelivered.  She apologized and told me she would credit my card for the full order and I would receive an email after our call confirming this. 

I never received an email.  Shocker.

Instead, what we got was someone ringing our doorbell at 11:30pm to deliver a warm, crushed box of strawberries and cheesecake.  

Let me repeat that: SOMEONE RINGING OUR DOORBELL AT 11:30PM.

Talk about a shocker!  When I answered the door and told the delivery man that it was REALLY inappropriate to make deliveries at this hour, he told me they were very busy with Mother's Day.  Then he wanted to take a picture! 

I slammed the door in his face.

To say a delivery at this hour, with a beat up box, is unacceptable is an understatement. Who do you hire to deliver these gifts?  It is frightening to have someone standing outside your front door in the dark at almost MIDNIGHT!

And what the hell happened to these puny, melted, smashed up berries on the way to our house?

I don't even care anymore.  Thanks for nothing, except a mild heart attack that almost wiped out my whole family. I will NEVER shop at Shari's Berries -- or any of your brands -- ever again.  

And that's too bad for you, because I don't think twice about buying your grossly overpriced yet totally mediocre flowers and gifts. 

I'll be contacting you at a decent hour for a full and immediate refund and to report this shop for their poor judgement and terrible service.

Please see the photos below and change your name to 1800-FAILURE.
Jen

The Last Time

The pandemic officially started two years ago for me, and I suspect for many of you as well. This was the night we decided to keep our teams home from work for 2 weeks to "flatten the curve." 

Who knew 2 weeks could become 2 years for some?

It's also the night I cancelled a flight to Florida to visit my parents.

Who knew we would be living here together now?

Lots of unexpected things have happened to all of us over the past 2 years -- some tragedies, some triumphs.  I think the history books (websites? holograms?) will look back at this time and people will be in awe of how we made it through.  

Kinda like how we look at The Plague or The Great Depression.

I remember buying this cookie at Kings, the grocery store in my building in Hoboken, on New Year's Day. It's like everything hopeful I was feeling about the dawn of a new decade was written in sugar and wrapped with curly ribbon. 

Placing this colorful cookie in my little green basket, I was blissfully unaware that the world was about to do a 180 -- and that 2020 would go down as one of the worst years ever.

Being home alone for months was awful.  Kevin McAllister made it look way more fun.

Fast forward to today. 

I'm fortunate to be back to work in an office doing a job I love, in a new state with my family. Life is quite different now, but better in many ways.  

There are days that I forget everything that happened these past few years. But on days like today, I find myself thinking about the things I loved to do -- travel, see friends, go to the movies, shop. All things that I haven't done in more than 2 years...

Jan 4, 2020 - My last leisurely trip to Target.
I think I spent an hour wandering around, buying things I really didn't need. Those were the days!

Feb 1, 2020 - My last work trip.
I traveled a lot.  Here we were in LA hosting an outdoor conference on women's health. We had fun.

Feb 21, 2020 - My last dinner with my childhood friends.
We went for Italian in Jersey, we laughed all night and shut the place down. Miss these girls.

Feb 22, 2020 - My last dinner with my college friends.
We were in Connecticut. More food, more laughs, more missing my girls.

Feb 29, 2020 - My last time in Chicago & last movie.
Leap Day! I visited my niece & nephew for his 8th birthday and we went to see Sonic. It was terrible but the company was great. Luckily I've seen these cuties in FL several times since this pic was taken, but dear Lord, let this not be the last movie I ever see in a theater.

Mar 4, 2020 - My last week in my midtown NYC office.

One of my good friends always made funny videos -- this is us in the elevator leaving work for the night, probably after 8pm. I miss her terribly too. I don't miss leaving work at that hour.

Here's hoping we all see the people and places we love again very soon!

Covid, I Hate You

Both figuratively and literally, I am sick and tired.

For TWO YEARS, we masked, and we vaxxed (3X!!), and we distanced, and we washed, and we disinfected, and we stayed home, and we stayed away, and yet...

My parents and I tested positive for Covid last week.

And it's not the asymptomatic kind that you never know you have.  OH NO!  We're coughing and sneezing, there are headaches and dizziness, congestion and tummy troubles, we can't sleep and food tastes weird.  

And the ANXIETY!  What does that ache mean?  Will this get worse?  When will it go away?

I'm told I should be thankful that because we're vaccinated it's not "that bad." Really?? Is that the best we can do?  Yes, we're home and not in a hospital -- and sure, that's obviously good. But it's not enough! Not for all the sacrifices we, and millions of others, have made. 

No!

Get vaccinated to be protected, they said.  Wear a mask to be responsible, they said. It's not safe to travel or gather or shop or eat or laugh or BREATHE outside your house, they said.

We did ALL the things. And yet, here we are.

Covid, I hate you.

I wish we never met.  And I hope we never, ever meet again.

Beat it!
Jen 

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 epicenter 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 mercifully, we wouldn't need to attend that conference after all.

I remember how beautiful it was that Tuesday morning with a clear blue sky.

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 high-pitched screams and horrified 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 being afraid to walk into our house, seeing my mother rock 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 the hours dragging by, wavering between sheer panic and utter numbness.

I remember hearing the phone finally ring out 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 receiver, hearing my dad's voice on the other end.

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

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

I remember leaving a shaky voicemail for a good friend, who worked at Aon on the upper floors of the Trade Center, fearing 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 arrived dazed and covered in soot.

I remember being totally exhausted but staying up all night, wide-eyed and watching cable news, my mind racing yet completely unable to process the day's unthinkable 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 a few days later 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 of bodies, and left shortly before it all came crashing down, all because he was looking for me.

I remember extraordinary acts of courage.

I remember bone-deep and profound sorrow, fear and anger.

I remember the massive surge of patriotism that united us all as Americans.

I remember struggling to return to work the following Tuesday.

I remember all the makeshift missing person posters stapled to every pole in Hoboken.

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

I remember this massive boat being jam-packed but completely silent, as tears flowed down my face.

I remember stepping onto Pier 11 in NYC surrounded by crowds feeling totally alone and seeing armed guards and a giant military tank.

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

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

I remember feeling like an absolute zombie.

I remember slowly hearing familiar names trickle in, people I knew who's lives were 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 on the spot where 2,753 beautiful 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 that I can't unsee.

And the worst part of it is, despite the heroic efforts and sacrifices of our troops for the past TWO decades, I fear we're less safe today than we were on September 10th 2001.  

I pray for anyone who is suffering today and more than anything, I pray for peace.

Two Truths and a Lie

Can you spot the lie?

I moved to a retirement community in Florida.

I play golf now.

I turned 48 today.

If you read this blog as irregularly as I write it, you may not know that I moved to FL, but I did.  

I moved in with my 76-year-old parents to help them with some health stuff. So not only do I live in a retirement community now, I work in one too!  And while my life did a total 180, I've got to say, I like it. 

So, that one is true.

And there are nearly 700 holes of golf in this massive town, so you might think I took up the sport.  Is it a sport?  Or game?  Or match?  Whatever.  

But I haven't done this.  Yet.  I'm not very sporty.  Though I reserve my right to play -- especially if I suddenly develop an overwhelming attraction to octogenarians in plaid pants.

So that's the lie.

Which means the other truth is that I'm 48.  WHAT??  Yes.  Forty.  Eight. 

Barf.

That means I'm just TWO YEARS away from 50.  FIFTY!  Good Lord.  How can this BE? 

I look so youthful (thank God for filters). And my hair is so long and fluffy and brown (don't zoom in, you'll see my grays). And I don't have many wrinkles (plump is the new Botox).

Well, I guess if Madonna's about to be 63, we've officially entered an alternate universe where age has ceased to have any meaning at all.

Here's what I do know: Life is short. If the past year taught us anything, it's that simple truth.  

As we get older, we tend to look backwards more than forward. Remember the time when...?  But I think a key to staying young (at heart) is trying new things and making new memories.  So go for that promotion, ask him out, cut bangs, buy the handbag, try to speak Italian, eat the cannoli, let the kids stay up late, learn to swim, go back to school, get the sportscar, or... move to a new city!

Just live your best life and next year, we can play three truths.

PS: If you ever want to feel instantly younger, move to a retirement community.  I'm easily the youngest person on our block by 20 years, and I'm constantly inspired by the energetic Seniors in this town.  If a fountain of youth exists, no doubt it's in Central Florida!

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...