“Men from New York City don’t want to meet women from New Jersey, they think we’re all Jersey Girls.” This came from a friend bemoaning the fact that all the really cute guys on the dating sites seem, to her, to live in NYC; and the “Jersey Girls” label is the stigma that those of us with zip codes starting with 07 or 08 seem doomed to bear.
So, what is a Jersey Girl? Am I a Jersey Girl? Let us look at the pros and cons:
I do not have Big Hair, nor do I have three inch long, french manicured gel fingernails. My last name is not Soprano. In fact, the only time I ever get involved with a Mob of any kind is during Macy’s Seasonal Clearance Sales. I do not have a nickname that even remotely sounds like Snookie or Sweetheart, nor am I acquainted with a Situation of any kind. I am decidedly NOT a Housewife. I have never, and probably will never, own a baby blue convertible Iroc Z, and I do not have a year-round tan developed from hours spent lying inert on a tanning bed.
On the other hand, I’ve lived in New Jersey (we just call it Jersey here) my whole life. I was born in Hoboken (actually a cool city – birthplace of Frank Sinatra and once home to the Tootsie Roll factory). Ask me where I live and I will tell you what Turnpike Exit I live off of (only fellow Jerseyan’s will be laughing at that one!). I did have a scary “Joisey” accent growing up but, through the compassion and determination of dedicated college drama professors, have effectively laid it to rest. I have spent more than a few summers “down the shore”, but this was long before it was The Jersey Shore. I live within six miles of a Mall, and I know for certain, from the deepest recesses of my soul, that Springsteen is indeed The Boss.
Soooo, does that make me a Jersey Girl, or just someone who lives in Jersey?
And YO…what’s wit youse New Yawk guys anyway?