That's the name of the governor's house in New Jersey, currently the home of Chris Christie. Similar to my distrust of people who have two first names instead of a first and last name--see "Juan Pablo"--I'm a little unsure about people whose last name seems to be an extension of their first name. Rob Robertson, Lee Leighly, Sam Sammerton, Kris Kristoferson, and Chris Christie.

I won't weigh in on the whole BridgeWaterGate scandal because (1). I don't know enough about it to offer an informed opinion; (2). I'm a little biased because I still like that Christie hugged Obama after Hurricane Sandy even though I'm certain it was a calculated show of warmth because of his desire to run for president in 2016; and (3). I live in New Jersey now and I don't want him to come after me.

But I do find it interesting that when I go into work in the mornings if I drive down Route 206 (which I have been doing most mornings after deciding that my peace of mind while driving is worth the extra ten minutes it adds to the commute), I pass the mansion every time. Sometimes, I even imagine that I see Governor Christie out on the front lawn, helping to direct the gardeners.

For the eight plus years I lived in Philadelphia, I didn't pay any attention to any of the historical or political buildings. I never once went to the Liberty Bell or the Constitution Center and am not in fact sure that Philadelphia has a Constitution Center. I did enjoy the horse drawn carriages for tourists and the cobble streets, in small doses.

Where I live now, history abounds. There's a graveyard in Princeton that we pass all the time where I think Mother Goose and possibly Joyce Carol Oates is buried. We also frequently pass Morven, America's first White House (Dan just told me that), where Richard Stockton, the third President of the United States (?), used to live. You can also stand outside of Einstein's house and see the very same window where he came up with that one equation. The Princeton Battlefield is marked by four pillars, and you can easily loiter outside of John Nash's home (the man from A Beautiful Mind) wondering if it would be weird to ring the doorbell and ask for a glass of water. I'm making much of this up and I only know the names of these places because of the tourist pillow Dan made that's sitting next to me and Ernesto right now.

It just took me twenty minutes to figure out to download these files from Google Chrome, and so I cannot wrap this blog post up with any kind of sense. My overall point, I guess, is that I'm still adjusting to NJ, the Governor, and how to get where I want to go.