Tag Archives: New Jersey

Rendered Powerless by Hurricane Sandy

I’ve been a little cut off from civilization, but I assume everyone has heard about the storm that rocked the Northeast earlier this week.

Hurricane Sandy.

Frankenstorm.

Peppermeister (Husband-For-Now) and I got lucky, and so did our friends and family.

For us, this was the worst of it:

The trees landed in our driveway, but didn’t hit anything but more trees.

We were able to clear the driveway pretty quickly, thanks to chainsaws, brute strength and the kindness of strangers neighbors.

Our neighborhood seems the worst hit in town, as far as trees going down, but luckily none of them hit houses.

It’s hard to tell, but this is just dangling in the power lines, unattached to its base.

So this is our life now. No heat, no running water, no internet, no TV. Rotting food. Mile-long gas station lines. Headlamps.

We expect to be without power for two weeks or more. Here’s a shot from 10:30am Wednesday (Halloween). You can’t see the vodka, but it’s there.

Cancel Halloween? Over my dead ‘doodle body.

Exactly. It could be a lot worse.

How are you Chipmunks doing? If you’re looking for somethin’ cool to read, Hey! What the hell is cooler than a headlamp? Marlene over at My Parents Are Crazier Than Yours posted an update on her pilot web series. I’ll be blogging about the amazing filming experience next week. With or without power!

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Snakes Aren’t Scary (Except When They Are)

So you’re probably thinking I’m going to start this post like I always do, by greeting you as my fuzzy, wuzzy, li’l Chipmunks. Well, I would, but Peppermeister (First Husband) told me snakes eat chipmunks. And I just don’t want to take that kind of chance here.

You see, on Saturday, amidst hour number 8,002 of yard work, I went over to the pool filter and lifted the cover so I could clean it out. We had just had a big storm, so I knew it would be full of crud.

Oh, I was right about that.

Yup. THAT just happened.

I’d like to take this time to remind you that I live in New Jersey. The reason I stay here is simple: NO SCARY CREATURES (unless you count our politicians). No scorpions, no box jellyfish, no dementors, and no grizzlies (I don’t think. Don’t burst my bubble).

Now, okay, this snake was probably only 18 inches long, and a harmless garter at that, but that didn’t stop me from letting out a strangled cry and jumping back 5 feet.

I made Peppemeister repeat the process when he got home, so he too might have something to blog about. Which is when we discovered it was still very much alive.

Now that I’ve had a few days to recover, I’ve decided I’ve given this snake far too much power. And I know I’m not alone; so many people are terrified of snakes.

I’m going to take care of all that for you, right here, right now. It’s the least I can do considering you’re probably still pissed from hearing that I have a pool and haven’t invited you over.

Allow me to present to you:

BOB, the Worst Stand-Up Comic Snake of All-Time

And so you see, snakes are nothing to be afraid of. Until they start telling jokes.

Have you ever encountered any unwanted critters in your dwelling?

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, the deadline is TODAY, JUNE 6th. I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

New Jersey. Fuhgeddaboudit!

I got your greetings right here. Oh! Fuhgeddaboudit.

I’m from the land of opportunity, where the streets are paved in gold[en tanning lotion] and the hills run with honey [-colored highlights].

Where, when driving 35 miles east to work, I pass not one, not two, but three shopping malls. Fuhgeddaboudit.

Where, most importantly, it’s not considered at all rude to shout, “Get the hell oudda here!”

That’s right. These are my brethren bubbies:

I am likely no more than 3 degrees of separation from all of these people.

Being from “The Garden State” can be confusing. People fly into Newark Airport and, if not distracted by the acrid smell of industry’s finest power plants, come to realize there isn’t a flower or turnip in sight*. Fuhgeddaboudit.

If they ask for a hoagie or a pop, they may be met with, “Oh! Speak English!” We identify most with our ‘exit’ – the number of the Garden State Parkway exit you take to get to our hometown, whatever that might be (135 in the house, yo!). New York City is simply “The City” (if appropriate, a borough is specified), and getting the world’s best pizza and bagels from any seedy-looking strip mall is not so much appreciated as it is expected. Fuhgeddaboudit. You might have noticed my liberal use of “Fuhgeddaboudit” throughout this post. That’s another confusing thing about New Jersey. Not only can you get away with saying this (in joking fashion or with all the sincerity of a mother chipmunk tending to her teeny, tiny baby chipmunks), you can use it in a number of conflicting ways: You need a ride to the train station because you’re getting your Mazda tramp stamped? Fuhgeddaboudit! Your mother-in-law told your hairdresser to tone down your pouf? Fuhgeddaboudit! You tried those calzones at Vinny’s? Fuhgeddaboudit! As you can see, it means both “Of course! Don’t think twice!” and “Aw hell no!” Most commonly, though, as Urban Dictionary so eloquently states, it means: “The subject is unequivocally excellent; further thought and analysis are unnecessary.” …My head hurts. Does anyone want to do shots? What do you love/hate about your motherland? *Let us remember, though, I have a barn. Jersey has so much to offer**. **FuhgeddabouditPhoto Credits:#1 (postcard) – edisonnewjerseyhomes.com#2 (Jersey Shore cast) – jerseyshoreshow.org#3 (t-shirt) – raggedshirts.com

I’m Going to Need a Lot More Money Before I Start Feeling Guilty

At the risk of divulging too much personal information In the hopes of finding my first stalker, I’d like to share some exciting news with you about my county. Hunterdon County, New Jersey, that is.

Turns out we’re rich.

Very rich.

According to a number of recent articles, including this one from Yahoo! Real Estate, we’re the second richest county in the nation.

I have a theory about how we achieved this impressive  embarrassing status. It’s quite simple. The CEO of Nasdaq lives in our town. That’s got to throw off the whole average, right?

New Jersey, the most densely populated state in the U.S., has a reputation for housing a number of the world’s wealthiest, no doubt given our proximity to New York City, and Snooki’s poof. I was sure Russell Simmons’ stomping grounds of Bergen County would make the top of the list. (Click here for a neat WordPress article about stars in Bergen County.)

Not this place:

Does it change anything, you ask? Will I refuse to cross county borders now for fear that I might breathe in fumes of the poor? Will I now get to pronounce the ‘t’ in ‘often’ without feeling douche-y? Look for preschools for my yet-to-be-conceived children? Receive a special membership card? I just got an invitation for a Visa black card yesterday…was that it in disguise?

I’ll keep you posted. For now I’m going to go back to eating Ramen noodles in front of the fan.