Down Memory Lane: Hoboken, NJ

I met my friend Kim for lunch in Hoboken, NJ yesterday. She is 25 and single, and everyday I tell her she should move to this adorable mile-long city just 15 minutes from downtown Manhattan where we work. This is where I lived as a fresh-faced, disproportionately idealistic 22-year-old trying to make a name and a life for myself in the big city. I'd show you a picture, but this period in my life predated digital cameras. And a few other things.

I lived on Washington Street, the main thoroughfare where all the cute little restaurants, mom-and-pop grocery stores and trendy bars are. I used to love grabbing an Italian ice as I walked home from work in the summertime. Hoboken is where I paid my first water bill, and cooked my first full meal, and had my first "grown-up" boyfriend. This was where I learned how to be an adult. 

I lived on the top floor of this building, and walked up five flights of stairs everyday. My butt was a work of art. I live in a basement now, and my butt has significantly depreciated in value.

Of course, you may have heard of Hoboken because of a little show called "Cake Boss". It's your standard Italian bakery that has become insanely popular over recent years.

This is the power of television. A line that wraps around the corner for the chance to eat a cannoli baked by a quasi-famous person's staff. Cause you know that "the cake boss" has Sunday off.

The back of the line actually spilled onto the next street. Suckers.

This bakery is not the reason why I wanted to meet Kim in Hoboken yesterday. Sometimes you have to get out of the city to see it at its best. 

And Hoboken's waterfront is one of the best places to see the full scope of the city skyline. The first time I saw the Macy's 4th of July fireworks was from this pier. They were set off from six different barges in the water, so the entire sky looked like the inside of a kaleidoscope. It was so spectacular I cried.

We met a young photography student from London snapping pics on the pier. He was in town to shoot his mates' show at Webster Hall tomorrow. He asked if we were still "in university" and if we were on Facebook. He's my new best friend. Anyone who asks if I'm still in college is my best friend. Especially if they ask in a charming British accent.

Even though it was so cold I almost turned to stone, I lost my favorite hat, cracked my camera lens and I'm pretty sure our lunch waiter called me sir, it was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday. And if I ever need to reminisce, or wait two hours in line for a crazy cake, it's only a hop, skip and a river away.