Happy F’ng New Year.

You thought that shit was bad…

2024 might be going out like a syphilis outbreak in a retirement home, but look on the bright side — in the months and years to come, shit can and likely will, get worse.

Like a lot worse.

How’s that for a silver lining huh?

Truth be told, I’m about two glasses of the bubbly stuff into my night, and I’ve got a Monopoly game with the kids to play, a ball to watch, sparklers to light, bread to eat, toasts to make and tears of gratitude to shed, but I’m also feeling incredibly reflective, so I wanted to share some of my thoughts and, well… reflections as it were.. before I do all of that, so here goes.

Yesterday, I took the kids to the top of the “Freedom Tower” as I refer to it. I took them for the views and the photos and as I learned by happy accident, for some of the best “kiddie cocktails” they’ve ever had. But what I actually found there, was a perspective on the state of our nation and the world, that I’d been missing and so desperately needed.

As I looked out across the city as far as the eye could see, I was struck by the significance of where I was standing and why.

How could I not feel that way? That building exists because of one of the most unthinkably horrific days in our country’s history. A day which brought us to our knees. A day which tested us and our perseverance in ways we had never before considered.

That day has changed all of us profoundly. It has steeled our resolve in the face of aggression and reinforced our toughness in the wake of tragedy.

We’ve trusted the world less in the days since, but for a moment, an ever-fleeting moment my kids couldn’t possibly understand, we leaned on and appreciated one another more.

And there it is — that gloriously magnificent and tragically significant skyscraper, standing sentry over the city as a stoic reminder of all we lost that day, and all we hope to be today and tomorrow.

It is a beacon of resilience and renewal. Rising from the ashes of tragedy, it’s an architectural marvel which symbolizes the indomitable spirit of a city, a nation, and a PEOPLE who refuse to be defined by the devastation of that dark day.

In its essence, at its core, that building represents a narrative of transformation— a journey from loss to hope, from destruction to creation. It is a symbol of unity, a reminder of our shared humanity, and an enduring testament to the power of renewal in the face of adversity.

And man, oh man, oh man, as I sit here typing these words while perched on the edge of that neon-nepo-baby-narcissist returning to the White House I so cherish, I am so profoundly grateful for the perspective I got yesterday.

Because shit is going to suck for quite a while. We are going to be tested in ways we cannot currently fathom. And it’s going to feel hopeless. It’s going to feel disheartening. It’s going to feel dark. It’s going to feel overwhelming. We are going to think often about just giving up and giving in.

But we cannot give up. We cannot give in.

Like the Freedom Tower, we are going to rise from the ashes. We are going to weather this attack. And we are going to emerge stronger, more determined, more tenacious, more steadfast, and more certain of who we are and who we want to be than we have ever been before.

And maybe it’s the bubbly talking, maybe it’s the giggling of my kids in the other room as they wait for me to come in and finally start playing the game (I don’t let them win by the way, shocker right?), or maybe just maybe it’s me being me, which is often a little naïve and maybe more than a little too trusting of others…

Maybe it’s that I have recently re-fallen in love with the most amazing human being on the planet and I’m a perpetual mashup of butterflies and mushiness and schmoopiness and goofiness and happiness and all of the fucking “ness” things that come with being in love which are wonderful and all consuming…

Or maybe just maybe, it’s that I really do have this unshakable faith in who we are, who we want to be, and how strong and resolute and fierce and unflinching we are.

Standing on top of the tallest building in the western hemisphere while understanding its significance and its reason for existence was exactly the reminder I needed in the moment we are facing.

It’s a grim hopefulness, because it comes with great cost, and great pain. But something magnificent can arise from something horrific.

And as we head into the year 2025 with all we are facing ahead of us as a nation, I’m going to hold fast to the idea that we too will rise. There may not be a building 1776 feet tall in our honor, but there will be a democracy in existence because of what we do in the years ahead.

So with that, I am off to play Monopoly and drink many more glasses of bubbly… and I wish all of you the most incredibly joyful, happy, healthy, safe and wonderful new year.

We are all going to build what comes next together. 2024 is going out like the world’s worst mashup of the real housewives of New Jersey and the show Jackass. But we’re facing being turned into the Handmaid’s Tale. So shit could be worse.

Raising a glass to all of you! I love you, I am grateful for you! I appreciate you! And I am incredibly proud to be in this fight alongside you!

Happy New Year friends!! Here’s to rising from the ashes together.

Love always,

Jo ❤️

And lastly — from one of my favorite movies ever, a scene that makes you laugh and cry, perfectly apropos of this very night in the middle of this very moment in time.