Category: New Jersey is breathtaking

I'm Going To Chop My Ear Off Any Day Now, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

Deep Thoughts With GoJulesGo

Go Jules Go
Sometimes...it depends on what the meaning of 'is' is.

I’ve been moved, Chipmunks. Moved to go where this blog has never gone before.

Into the depths of my big, beautiful brain.

Who have we to thank? Well, we could call her Siri, but I prefer Annie Leibovitz, because my new phone takes such beautiful pictures. That, ultimately, is why I got her.

Meet A-Leib.

Come, let us look at all of the profound musings A-Leib has inspired since coming into my life last Friday…

If cars ran on hay, and horses ran on gas, I’d be okay with us running out of gas.

Is there anything hot glue, a ball of twine, and an intense desire to mask inner turmoil with superficial beauty can’t do?

Sometimes, as the sun goes down, I wonder why all them “Twilight” haters hate. The protagonist is the epitome of quiet, selfless inner strength. She’s also a pretty good cook.

Man’s best friend can help us cherish simplicity: fresh air, open fields and sunny skies. And all the deer poop you can eat.

When one looks for signs to lead them down the right path, one often finds pebbles in one’s shoe.

I believe inner peace can be found in the most unexpected places. Like someone else’s backyard. …Or jail.

Happy Thursday! What’s been on your dead sexy mind lately?

P.S. – In case you were wondering, they’ve put in new trailheads on our street, and the trails lead to some pretty spectacular views. Yeah, man! This is Jersey!

New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

New Jersey. Fuhgeddaboudit!

Go Jules Go
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**. **Fuhgeddaboudit! Photo Credits:#1 (postcard) – edisonnewjerseyhomes.com#2 (Jersey Shore cast) – jerseyshoreshow.org#3 (t-shirt) – raggedshirts.com

Animals, Chipmunks Forever, Just For Fun, Kvetching, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncle Jesse

And on the 7th day, there was light (…and labradoodles in costume).

Go Jules Go
When Seasons Collide.

Once upon a time, Mother Nature had a stroke and decided New Jersey was getting off too easy. Sure, sure, there’s tolls on the highways and you can’t bring beer on the beach, but…no scorpions! So, she threw us a heaping scoop of hurricane with a sprinkling of tornado. Nah, she thought, still not cutting it. I know! Earthquake! That seemed to satisfy her for a while, but when October 29th rolled around, she was restless again.

Mother Nature decided she’d start with a smattering of snow. Odd, I thought, but pretty.

Who doesn't like a Christmas tree farm dusted with snow?

Then…BAM!

FULL-ON SNOW STORM!

By the way, that ‘bam’ was the sound of every tree in New Jersey falling on every power line. As the most densely populated state in the U.S., that’s a lot of power lines. The snow was too heavy and the leaves too plentiful; giant branches bowed and then broke.

We weren’t anticipating a true storm (there’s no storm like it on record [for October] since the Civil War), so when it really started coming down and we lost power at 1 o’clock last Saturday afternoon, we headed out in search of a generator and bottled water (we have a well that doesn’t work when we lose power).

We encountered 5 power lines down in under an hour...which is how long it took us to go 6 miles.

We got the last generator, and it was enough to power the fridge. Not the heat or the water. So we waited in the dark. And waited and waited. We blanched at the news that 95% of New Jersey Central Power and Light’s customers would have power restored by the following Thursday, the remaining 5% on Friday. By Thursday?! That was 6 full days away! We had needs! …Like showering for work.

Guess who was in the 5%? Yup. That’s right. 7 days of flushing the toilet with melted snow and creek water later…

I’M BACK!

Of course, I have to return with a bang, so for your viewing pleasure…

Uncle Jesse in costume!!!

I'm not sure he grasps what a privilege it is to be a chipmunk.

There are many like-minded souls out there, which fills my guilty pleasure heart to the brim. For example, I discovered via Twitter that last Halloween Second Husband bought a squirrel costume from Target for his brother’s dog:

He's carrying an acorn! OMG. (Click on picture for photo credit, but only if you dare.)

Annnnnd this is why Second Husband is about to get upgraded to Soul Mate status. I mean, a squirrel is almost a chipmunk. Does anyone else see interwoven destiny here? …No? Pssh. See if I try to pawn off my leftover candy corn on you this year.

Animals, Just For Fun, Lists, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

I Have a Barn. How the F#%* Did That Happen?

Go Jules Go

I was raised 20 miles southwest of New York City, in a suburban New Jersey town where today city commuters still reign supreme and real estate is precious. I grew up thinking anyone with more than half an acre of land was a millionaire. Or crazy. I hated country music, horseback riding and wide open spaces. At 20, I transferred to college in Manhattan and became one of those commuters myself. I was sure I’d grow up to be an urban-dwelling writer/cat lady. Gladly so.

Now look at me. 29. Married. Project Manager. Labradoodle. Barn.

WTF.

I have a barn. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is a girl like me supposed to do with a barn? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately from a guilty pleasure perspective (duh, what other perspective is there?) and I have some ideas. I’m not dead-set on any, so I’d really appreciate your suggestions. (I know how creative you are when you’re supposed to be doing boring serious things. ;))

There’s the obvious:

  • Vodka Distillery.

  • Animals Dressed as Other Animals: An Aww-Inspiring Exhibit.

  • Sexy Secret Hiding Place for Second Husband, Darren Criss.

And the slightly less obvious:

  • Clubhouse for My Very First Cult. (Alert: Currently recruiting. Must love deep-fried Oreos and puppies. Serious inquiries only.)

  • Storage Room for guillotine, life-sized Twilight dolls, barrels of wine, aged cheeses and fireworks*.

  • Goat. You know. Maybe. Like one cute, little goat. And some chickens. Just 1 or 2 or 50. And the goat probably needs a friend, now that I think about it.

Admit it. You want some g.d. extraordinary chickens, too. (Side note: My bestie actually bought this calendar for someone once.) Photo credit: bumblebeeblog.com

*This might sound more impressive if you knew fireworks were illegal [for residents to own/set off] in New Jersey. …No? Still not impressed? Did you see that chicken?

What about THESE chickens? Boo-ya. Photo credit: mytakeonlife.com

 How has life surprised you??

Booze, Everyone Loves a Braggart...Right?, Music, New Jersey is breathtaking, TV Junkie, Uncategorized, Uncle Jesse

How to Have a Guilty Pleasure Weekend in 4 Easy Steps

Go Jules Go

Guilty pleasure bubbykins, I know it’s been a few days since my last post, but get ready for me to make it up to you!! That’s right. Simply follow these 4 easy steps and you’ll be GOGP-ing in no time.

Step #1: Find out you rule even more than you originally thought, as does Lady GaGa, and brag about it shamelessly on your blog.

On Friday morning, thanks to a colleague, I discovered my Project Management Professional (PMP) certification test scores were higher than I thought. I wasn’t particularly keen on being called “moderately proficient” in all 6 test areas, but as it turns out, even scoring “below proficient” on some sections earns you a passing grade. Man. I don’t even know how I keep my head up with all these brains inside it.

On Friday I was also exposed to this brilliant GaGa performance, thanks to Hubster’s Howard Stern-listening ways:

 

Step #2: Throw caution (and your dog’s leash) to the wind and loudly sing Bruno Mars songs in the woods.

On Saturday morning, we welcomed a gloriously sunny, 80-degree day here in western New Jersey, so the fam went for a hike in the Round Valley reservoir area. Why is that a guilty pleasure, you ask? Because, aside from belting out “The Lazy Song“, we let the dog off his leash for the whole 4 miles (shhh)! Who’s a good boy? Uncle Jesse is, yes he is! Look at these little tree huggers:

I really hope my very first stalker sees this and uses it to figure out how to find me on a fair-weather weekend.

Step #3: Do anything that requires you to wear glasses like these:

Photo credit: istockanalyst.com

As for my Saturday evening guilty pleasure activity, it looks like not many of you were as interested as me in seeing the Glee 3D Concert movie, which is supposedly playing for

Work it, girl! (Photo credit: pansophiatree.tumblr.com)

only 2 weeks. Babs, my sister and I were 3 out of only 10 people in the theater. I won’t hold it against you, though, because it isn’t nearly as cool as seeing the concert live in the flesh (they filmed the 3D movie during one of the New Jersey concerts; sadly, not the one I attended). They had some touching ‘underdog’ storylines rolling between songs, but it really was a concert movie, and it’s just not all that fun to sit still and watch a concert, even on the big screen in 3D.

The best part of the concert (aside from any moment featuring Blaine [Darren Criss]) was Brittany (Heather Morris) performing Britney Spears‘ “I’m a Slave 4 U.” That girl can dance! (Sorry, I couldn’t find any quality concert clips of this on YouTube.) Mercedes (Amber Riley) singing one of my favorite Aretha songs (“Ain’t No Way”) was goosebump-inducing, too. Those kids are nauseatingly talented. Can’t wait for Season 3 of “Glee” (airs Wednesday, Sep. 21st on FOX)!

Step #4: Drink [heavily] and practice saying, “The pee-pee does the picking.”

You can take the girl out of Jersey... (Photo credit: http://www.castingduo.com)

On Sunday, all the rain that was ever in the sky decided to fall at once, giving me the perfect excuse to stay inside and do nothing (though it did put a damper on previous ‘mini swim party’ plans I was looking forward to). If drinking vodka tonics and watching reruns of my new favorite show, “Millionaire Matchmaker“, counts as nothing, that is. And I kind of like to think of it as conducting research for you fine people. I may write a post dedicated to this startlingly amazing show, but in the meantime, tune into Bravo since they’re airing marathons practically ’round the clock. If you hate the matchmaker (Patti Stanger) for the first 5 minutes, beware. So did I.

Late Night, Music, New Jersey is breathtaking, TV Junkie, Uncategorized, Wipe the Drool

Two Things You Have to See Today

Go Jules Go

#1 – Justin Timberlake and Jimmy Fallon performing History of Rap PART 2 (!!!) on Monday’s Late Night with Jimmy Fallon:

#2 – This parking sign I saw outside of Kohl’s yesterday:

Did they know I was coming? Seriously, what’s the deal with this?? (I did a little homework, but I’m still not sure what the credentials are.)

New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

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

Go Jules Go
Photo credit: http://www.discoverdebtfreedom.com

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:

Picture I took of my 'hood for another amazing post: https://goguiltypleasures.wordpress.com/2011/04/12/things-that-confuse-me-when-i-walk-my-dog-a-photo-tour/

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.

Animals, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized, Uncle Jesse

Things That Confuse Me When I Walk My Dog: A Photo Tour

Go Jules Go

My husband and I try to take our dog for a walk every day, which usually amounts to 3 times a week. The only option by our house is to do a full 2-mile loop, and some most times E.L. Fudge cookies in front of the T.V. wins.

Perhaps the real reason I am hesitant to embark on this exhausting trek is because so many things baffle me along the way. (Click on any of the pictures to enlarge.)

MILE 0.15: Here is where my dog decides to relieve himself. Every time. As if he KNOWS it’s just far enough away from the house to require me to carry his feces for the remaining 1.85 miles.

MILE 0.41: I cannot for the life of me fathom why climbing this hill mountain never gets easier. No matter how many vodka shots I turn down the night before.

MILE 1.05: I don’t have a picture of Mile 1.05, because Mile 1.05 scares me, and I’m fairly certain that if I showed you why, you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and then I’d feel really bad (but would mostly worry that you’d stop reading my blog). Suffice it to say, the house at Mile 1.05 has a rusted sign on the gate, leading up to a dome-shaped apartment/garage, and it reads: HONK BEFORE YOU ENTER.

MILE 1.11: And if you’re not already freaked out, look what I recently discovered behind this seemingly-innocent house: a legitimate cemetary! They did a very good job disguising it; it took me almost 8 months to notice. But this worries me even more. I have so many questions, the first being, as I’m sure you’d imagine, are those people or pets? …And this is why I need to stop asking questions.

MILE 1.18: Luckily, it’s not long before we land in Pleasantville, but this too perplexes me. Are forsythia bushes supposed to look like that, and have the rest of us been offending Mother Nature unwittingly? And, P.S., what kind of birds are landing at this residence? I didn’t think turkeys could fly that high.

MILE 1.30: Now not only am I in Pleasantville, but it is 1952 and the neighborhood kids have gone for a dip in the watering hole.

MILE 1.52: I have not yet figured out why these people have a miniature pony, nor why I feel so disappointed when it chooses to hide in its shack (in case you don’t already know, I could do without horses).

MILE 1.60: There were 3 sheep here before winter. It’s spring now. Where are they? Oh, god, don’t tell me they’re behind the house at Mile 1.11.

MILE 1.71: Every time I pass one of the three (yes, three) Christmas tree farms in our neighborhood, I wonder how anyone could ever think New Jersey is anything less than a magical, pine-scented armpit, where everyone says, “How YOU doin’, amongst this fine bucolic splendor?”

MILE 1.79: You might not be able to tell from this photo, but this mailbox’s general girth puzzles me. Just look at the massive posts holding it up. Do they often get large packages containing the parts needed to assemble Dolly Parton’s bra, or a shopping mall? Or do they have a very small-but-unhygenic houseguest who comes to visit frequently enough that it requires drastic sleeping arrangements?

MILE 1.90: Daffodils. They’re everywhere! Why?

MILE 1.91: I will never, EVER understand why this house always has a ladder resting against it. Not always in the same place, but always there. If someone is trying to sneak out (or in), they’re not being very sneaky, or consistent. And if repairs are underway, why am I not seeing any progress? That ladder HAS to be messing with their Feng Shui.

These are all things I don’t understand. What I do understand is that if <insert deity here> wanted me to walk 2 miles every day, he wouldn’t have made Fudge Stripes taste so good.

THE END.

Wait, wait, P.S. – a little shout-out to someone else who’s confused: click here.