OK. So… Susan’s making fun of me. I’ll own up to my deep dark secret. I don’t know know how to pump gas.
Do you still like me anyway?
I tried to think of something I could make fun of Susan for. Couldn’t think of anything. Couldn’t find a single thing online, even, to make fun of her for or anything about that place in the middle of nowhere that she’s from. That says something, I think. There’s lots written about NJ and lots written about Jersey Girls. Making fun of us is a hot topic, almost. Bruce Springsteen wrote a song about us, even. You don’t hear anyone singing songs about Mid-Western girls. So there.
Anyway, I spent a couple hours with my tongue in my cheek and came up with this, excerpted from a dozen different sources and meant to make you wish you were me, or at least, wish you were from NJ.
I was born and raised in NJ and while I often feel very damaged by this, I’m still pretty proud of it. I know what real pizza tastes like, and I know that a bagel is much more than a roll with a hole in the middle. I judge people by what exit they get off the Parkway. I can navigate a traffic circle–with attitude. I know that 65 mph really means 80. When someone cuts me off, they get the horn AND the finger. And they expect it. It’s a sub, not a hoagie or, worse yet, a hero, and I wash it down with soda, not pop. Yes, I drink cawfee, and lots of it. I’ve always lived within 10 minutes of a mall.
In NJ, I can watch the sun rise on the east coast and watch it set on the west. I can climb a mountain in the morning, swim in the ocean in the afternoon, and get robbed at gunpoint in Camden by night. It’s the only state where massive oil refineries and dairy farms are just a few miles apart.
Where I’m from… the shore… makeup, shoes and bras are optional, salty hair and sand under the fingernails a given, a strong attitude and a tough mouth a plus. I say what I mean and I’ve got a nice, cheerful laugh. I’m a Jersey Girl, and I’m one of the Garden State’s most enduring icons- a readily identifiable personality, as much a part of America’s cultural landscape as that other great Jerseyan, Frank Sinatra. I’m spunky and witty. I’ve got confidence- everyone from New Jersey has that confidence. A Jersey Girl is crunchy on the outside, and soft in the center. At the center of the crunchy sweet exterior, I’m tuned in and know how and what I’m working.
The Jersey Girl mystique is hard to put into words. One would never say earthy-that’s way too California. Gritty gets closer when you understand that a true Jersey Girl sleeps just fine with sand in the bed. Jersey Girls go to the beach, or “down the Shore” They’re not formal. We know good corn and tomatoes when we taste them, and we never pump our own gas!!!
Is there anything people from your part of the blogosphere are known for or made fun of for? Big hair or a bad accent or ?