Vacation Day 2: I Think this Post is Actually About Food
I have not looked at my Blackberry once. Except to note that in one day I amassed 79 emails (on a Monday for the love of God). None of which have been acknowledged. Because I am on vacation. This is significant for me. Very. I usually have to leave the country for this to happen.
At some point we all just need to let it go, so I put it to bed for six glorious days to enjoy, what else, the Jersey Shore.
Jersey gets a bad rep--it's those housewives I tell you. For all it's annoying loud gold chain big hair obnoxious nails nasal faults, the Jersey Shore is a little slice of paradise in the Garden State (yes, it is in fact the Garden State and there are tomatoes to prove it). I grew up here as a kid--driving down for the day or renting houses for a week--just 1 1/2 hours from my Bucks County home (more on that ridiculously beautifully place I took for granted my entire life later). Once I left for college my Dad thought it would be an awesome idea to buy a beach house now that I was living six states away with no intention of ever returning. Yes, awesome.
We are at said house on fantastic Long Beach Island to pick up a boat (Dad's boat, for a Craigslist deal!) and haul it back to our own little slice of heaven on the lake. Interestingly enough, and I mean that in the most non-sarcastic way possible, after much debate and trial we are in fact no longer hauling that boat but having someone else do it. Que sera sera.
Since we're here I fully intend to eat my way up and down Long Beach Boulevard. Scojo's breakfast, bagels (real ones, not that doughy crap they make round to fool you in the South), Panzone's pizza, limitless Italian Restaurants where sauce does not come from cans, Harvey Cedars Shellfish, and of course, Wawa. Who can resist a Wawa shorti, especially now that they have those helpful little kiosks where you build your sandwich and the order gets submitted electronically to the deli with ZERO chance of getting it wrong. The world can learn from Wawa.
Keeping it real, we have already taken a trip to Atlantic City to hang out with the blue hairs for a night. Well, my Mom actually, but she is no where near a blue hair and would probably have disowned me if I left that statement alone. We ate (again, cannot wait to see what I look like in a bathing suit later today) at Buddakan, a place my family has been talking about for some time but I had yet to experience, and it was worth the wait. The night cost me about $400 with all the money I lost playing blackjack with dealers who cheat, but whatever--lodging is covered.
My most pressing decision thus far has been whether I go to the beach, put the boat in the bay or just sit on my ass. The only strategic planning coming into play is in deciding what day to head back and finish out vacation with the boat on Lake Lanier. I have called tech support (18 year old brother) just once to figure out how to connect Playstation to the TV, and the only conference call has been with the boat towing people who gave me 48 minutes of my hour back. This is my kind of work.
I am so looking forward to the culinary pleasures and recreational decisions yet to come. And of course, ignoring that Blackberry for four more days.
At some point we all just need to let it go, so I put it to bed for six glorious days to enjoy, what else, the Jersey Shore.
Jersey gets a bad rep--it's those housewives I tell you. For all it's annoying loud gold chain big hair obnoxious nails nasal faults, the Jersey Shore is a little slice of paradise in the Garden State (yes, it is in fact the Garden State and there are tomatoes to prove it). I grew up here as a kid--driving down for the day or renting houses for a week--just 1 1/2 hours from my Bucks County home (more on that ridiculously beautifully place I took for granted my entire life later). Once I left for college my Dad thought it would be an awesome idea to buy a beach house now that I was living six states away with no intention of ever returning. Yes, awesome.
We are at said house on fantastic Long Beach Island to pick up a boat (Dad's boat, for a Craigslist deal!) and haul it back to our own little slice of heaven on the lake. Interestingly enough, and I mean that in the most non-sarcastic way possible, after much debate and trial we are in fact no longer hauling that boat but having someone else do it. Que sera sera.
Since we're here I fully intend to eat my way up and down Long Beach Boulevard. Scojo's breakfast, bagels (real ones, not that doughy crap they make round to fool you in the South), Panzone's pizza, limitless Italian Restaurants where sauce does not come from cans, Harvey Cedars Shellfish, and of course, Wawa. Who can resist a Wawa shorti, especially now that they have those helpful little kiosks where you build your sandwich and the order gets submitted electronically to the deli with ZERO chance of getting it wrong. The world can learn from Wawa.
Keeping it real, we have already taken a trip to Atlantic City to hang out with the blue hairs for a night. Well, my Mom actually, but she is no where near a blue hair and would probably have disowned me if I left that statement alone. We ate (again, cannot wait to see what I look like in a bathing suit later today) at Buddakan, a place my family has been talking about for some time but I had yet to experience, and it was worth the wait. The night cost me about $400 with all the money I lost playing blackjack with dealers who cheat, but whatever--lodging is covered.
My most pressing decision thus far has been whether I go to the beach, put the boat in the bay or just sit on my ass. The only strategic planning coming into play is in deciding what day to head back and finish out vacation with the boat on Lake Lanier. I have called tech support (18 year old brother) just once to figure out how to connect Playstation to the TV, and the only conference call has been with the boat towing people who gave me 48 minutes of my hour back. This is my kind of work.
I am so looking forward to the culinary pleasures and recreational decisions yet to come. And of course, ignoring that Blackberry for four more days.
So glad you are enjoying your time up there and haven't returned any emails. I am proud of you!
ReplyDeleteThis post just made me feel really old. The injection of the (18 year old brother) caught me off guard. The last time I saw him was at your grandparents house and I think he was still in diapers. I can't take this...someone please invent the time machine...
ReplyDelete