*warning this is a long one*

I sitting here in my room, extremely bored and waiting for the football game to begin. This is going to be my first post in over a year. So I am goign to sum it all up in a sentence. I got my liscence, finished my senior year of high school, dropped out of college on move-in day, went to ACCC for a semester, and now I will be going to Stockton mext semester. 

(you have got to be kidding me, philly threw a interseption on th first pass)

Sorry, but I am an extreme Philly fan. Anyway, yeah I dropped out of College before it even started. (PHILLY TOUCHDOWN!!!) I realized long before that being stuck at a private school in the middle of a farm in Pennsylvania was just not for me. So I went to ACCC for a semester. It wasn't that bad because Ruthie and Broome go there, and I ment some really awesome people. It sucks that I only get to be with them for a semester though. I start Stockton next month. I don't know how many credits I will be able to transfer so that is really starting to worry me. 

I am really confused with my life now. There are so many things that I want to do, but I am not doing. Its mostly because I am broke and unemployed. I hate money. I wish is didn't exist. I live in a town that revolves around money and plastering it in your neighbor's faces. We don't have money, so no show from us. But I like it that way. 

So I went down to Florida a few weeks ago to look at Full Sail. It was so amazing and I truely hope I get the chance to go there. It was such a school for me. 10 month program on music business and then I am out with a job. I hate school, and the conventional ways of teaching. When I graduated High School I was so amped to quit the hardware store and get a job involving music. Oh yeah one problem, college. Ugh more school. Alright let me clear up something first. I hate school, but I was a good student. I graduated in the top 20% of my class with a 3.8GPA blah blah blah. (that last sentence was for Broome who always yells at me saying that I am smart)

Now here I sit in day-dream mode. I really do need to get this ideal la-la land state out of my head and realize I need to  be living in the real world. November was such an awesome month and I wish I could relive it again. I visited Katie at Gettysburg and went to the HiBye Say Anthing (sucks) tour, then visited Shauna at Kutztown the next day. A week later I saw Ace/Steel Train in NYC, MET ALEX BAND in Virgina, and the saw Ace/Steel Train in Philly. Days later I went to Florida. 

Here is the thing about the Ace/Steel Train shows. The first one was in NYC so I just drove up to Edison and stayed with Lauren (i love her). We almost didnt get in becuase I forgot my ID and the bouncers wouldnt let me in. Here I was aruging with a big bouncer in the middle of china town at night in NYC...dont do that. Well he finally let me in, but took Lauren's ID. We didnt stay for Steel Train, big mistake. Why? Beause I saw them again in Philly and they totally kicked Ace's ass. You know, I liked them when they first came out on Drive-Thru with 1969, but never really got into them afterwards. But let me tell you, trampoline is amazing! I am hooked. 

I want to change my music taste again. Everything I ever liked or supported has either broken up or blew up in my face. I need to go more and more underground because I really do hate people. I miss the old days when I was just getting into the scene and it was popular and I got made fun of because I listened to weird music. Now people ask me if I know the band and if I can get them back stage. I wish it was the 60s again so I could be a hippie living on Ashburn Ave.



That's all I have for now, but there is one more thing. Incase anyone has ever doubted any reason why I love South Jersey, here is something I took from Ferg:

Atlantic County.

You think you know, but you have no idea…this is the REAL south jersey.

I take the expressway, parkway or one of the pikes to get where I’m going. I go to the beach and I know only Shoobies say they’re “down the shore.” I’ve had arguments over who makes the best cheesesteak many, many times. All dudes gamble – or are at least in a fantasy football pool. All the dudes I know are trying for a spot on the local fire or police department – hot commodities. When it snows more than an inch, we call it a blizzard, schools have emergency closings and the kids run amuck. I know at least 5 people with the last name Patel but three-quarters of my friends are Italian, and 23% are Irish. After the bars, you’ll find me at a diner, and I know the difference between a quality late-night and a shitty diner. I know the location of at least 2 WaWas in each city. I can show you the house of the legendary 13th Leeds child, and one night I was stoned with my friends in the woods, and I’m pretty sure I might’ve caught a glimpse of him. That was the same night I got my car stuck in the bay. My car is covered in yellow-green dust in April and May from all the pollen. I’ve dealt with chiggers before, and I know several cures for jellyfish stings. I used to go to a blueberry farm when I was a kid with my family, who still picks out pumpkins and cornstalks from local farms.

I can successfully handle any traffic circles – c’mon, inside has the right of way! Unless, of course, we’re talking about the Brigantine lighthouse circle – then it’s every man for themselves. Speaking of Brigantine, no one ever leaves the island for anything, and I’m pretty sure there’s something funny in the water over there. I know about every stereotype and I probably live up to one of them. Absecon kids are snobby but they’re not as bad as people from Linwood and Northfield. People from Port Republic are pineys, Somers Point people are drunks, anyone from AC is ghetto and anyone from Ventnor plays up either the surfer or the Italian Mafioso stereotype to its fullest. Pleasantville, despite what the name might suggest, is the pits of hell and you most likely pack heat if you’re from P’ville (or your family’s just lived there forever, so you’ve stuck with it and learned to watch out for pedestrians). Galloway kids are still into “grunge” or they try to be hip-hop but by the time they grow up and start working, they’re the average joe at the Black Cat or Gourmet. Anyone from Margate either is Jewish or is surrounded on all sides by Jews, and anyone from Longport’s a little lonely since they’re so far from the action. Now Egg Harbor is interesting – if you’re from the city, you’re ghetto, and if you’re from the township, it used to be that you were a hick but now it’s all getting developed so you’re the typical run-of-the-mill suburbanite. Buena, Estell Manor, Hammonton, Mullica, etc. do not count as Atlantic County – and we kicked their asses in all sports, every season. 75% of the people that just read that and is from one of those cities just said “fuck you dude” to themselves.

Dudes played football, girls were cheerleaders, and nowhere else in the state is soccer so completely under-rated. I know the real deal about the massage parlors in AC. For field trips as a kid, I went to the Franklin Institute and the recycling center. My neighbor has an unusable, piece-of-shit boat in his side yard and it pisses me off. My other neighbor’s pride and joy is used for catching flounder and similar delicacies while it’s owner pounds Budweiser, smokes reds, and shoots the shit about better days. I know where to get the best bagel, the best slice, and the best Italian in the area.

I consistently call people an asshole to their face. I curse out anyone traveling too slow in the left lane. Its not “water,” its “wooder” – I’m telling you. I’ve fallen asleep and hit the rumble strips on the parkway many times. I’ve lived through countless hurricanes, nor’easters and fires, but I’ve never seen a tornado, earthquake or volcano. I can’t believe MTV went to Seaside Heights and their show “I’m a Jersey Shore Girl” was a complete farce (she was from Cherry Hill – what the shit is that about?). I’ve hung out on a pier or, better yet, a jetty. The only things in my trunk are a beach chair and some jumper cables. Washington Ave. is where everyone goes to sleep off their buzz, and any of the beaches down the inlet in AC have some damn fine barbequing going on. I’ve taken a day trip to South Street in Philly or Wildwood, depending on the season. Red Lobster is not the only place to get fresh seafood and we therefore picket it. I go to at least one boardwalk parade each year, and I can’t believe Miss America is gone now. I enjoy a good “fest” and I know that the Seafood Festival and Irish Festival are unrivaled drunken debacles. I’ve made a meal out of Herr’s BBQ potato chips, Tastycakes, and Pennsylvania Dutch Birch Beer. New Year’s Day is all about the Mummers and the Polar Bear Club (and the Downbeach crew at Robert’s is a guaranteed good time for it). I smoke Parliament Lights. Don’t ever make me choose between Charlie and Gregory in Somers Point. I go to the local fire department’s Beef and Beer BBQ each summer. In high school, the girls worked at the mall, on the boardwalk or at Dairy Queen and the boys were hot lifeguards.

One time, a seagull shit on me and while my friend was laughing, the seagull shit on her too. I know that feeding the damn seagulls is the worst idea known to man. I hate fucking Shoobies that think they are being animal friendly and feed them their lunch on the beach. IDIOTS! That’s why they are always gliding around ready to shit on your head. Also, I think its funny to dig holes in the sand and trick a seagull into falling in it. I laugh at people in Speedos at the beach. I can pick out a Shoobie from miles away and I know the story behind how the word Shoobie originated. Also, my beach chair reclines fully and sits low to the ground. It doesn’t sit 4 feet off the sand with no reclining capability. I have Sack-O’s on speed dial and I know that Washington, DC is not the only place you can find the White House. I know that anybody that doesn’t have a 609 area code isn’t REALLY from here, no matter how long “their parents have had a house down here and they’ve been coming here since they were a baby anyway.” My mom still loves Bruce Springsteen. It can just as easily be 20 degrees in January as it can be 70 degrees. I have been confused when I sit at gas stations in other states wondering where the hell the attendant is to pump my gas. I say yo, dude, and any number of expletives to make my point. I’m in love with fudge and caramel popcorn from the boardwalk, and I can name 50 flavors of salt water taffy. I know that there is never any good reason to hang out on the AC boardwalk unless I’m walking over it to a beach bar, or I need a fix. There’s a fruit and vegetable stand not far from my house and it’s called “(Insert name)’s Farm Market.” I think North Jersey is a different state, and South Jersey ought to secede to no longer be associated with the oil refineries and people with shitty attitudes. I’m really tired of people thinking I’m not from Jersey because I don’t have a New York accent and don’t call it “joisey.” I don’t think I have an accent and I don’t care what you think. I refuse to call a “sub” a hoagie. I know what jimmies are, and I won’t call them anything else. Sprinkles are for posers.

One of my neighbors is a plumber, and the others are a builder, an electrician and a painter – and they all have work trucks in the driveway. Every time I’m on the parkway at dusk, I wonder how the hell I’ve been so lucky to not hit one of those deer yet. One of the best parties I went to in high school had a massive bonfire. I have smoked pot…and my teachers and prominent local community members do, too. I can tell you at least 15 people from high school that did hard drugs and pretended they didn’t. In AC, it is not tomorrow until I’m asleep, or the sun’s been up for more than 6 hours. My idea of a great first date is great food, skeeball, and making out in a lifeguard stand. I’m obsessed with WaWa iced tea and I take a half gallon with me each time I go to the beach. Many of my memories of places in the area consist of what I once did there when I was all fucked up. I’ve been to my friends’ houses when they’re not there just to hang out with their mom. I actually don’t mind sand in my sheets. I know of at least 3 bars where they would’nt card me and up until recently, they were all in Margate. I’m still trying to figure out which Pike route 40 is – is that the black or the white? I’ve had poison ivy several times and the doctor’s pretty sure I had Lyme’s Disease. I don’t care either way – I got to miss school.

I know that the left lane is for FAST DRIVERS! Not idiots from PA, NY, or DE who like to do the speed limit in the left lane. I know that horrible drivers usually have a PA license plate. If it’s a NJ plate, you’re probably old. A yield sign is merely a suggestion and all stop signs with a white outline are optional. I know that the speed limit signs are merely a suggestion. Everyone knows that if you drive slower than the sign + 15, you are a “douchebag.” Speaking of douchebag, I have probably called you one many times whether I like you or not. I can’t think of a day that I haven’t used it excessively. When I hear the word “draw” I think of a drawing a picture, not what many of the North Jerseyans would say to describe their dresser. I have had ice cream on a pretzel cone. I have paid $4.00 for a blizzard or arctic swirl and it was worth every penny. Everything is “about fifteen-twenty minutes away.” I went to Storybook Land as a kid, and it was magical. I had at least five hermit crabs, 2 cats and a dog growing up. I know that while Ocean City may be a dry town, there’s a liquor store at every border and lots of house parties worth making the drive for. If I stayed for college, I went to Stockton or ACCC and saw half of my class from HS. If I left South Jersey for college, I describe where I live in terms of how far I am from AC. I try to explain to everyone that AC is not the shithole it used to be, but every time they come to visit me at home, something crazy happens and I wonder why I even try sticking up for it. Everyone here knows which bars are the place to go on what night. For example, when I came home for break in college, I know I’d see more than half of my graduating class at Maynard’s on Black Wednesday.

At least one of my good friends has spent over a week at my house and they’re like another child to my parents. I know an amazing place to sled come “blizzard season.” “Jeet” makes sense when I hear it. Going to New York is always a pain in the ass but Philly’s just a place to go when I’m bored. I was so salty that kids from Philly vacationing in our area could start driving at 16. Pretty much everyone I know has a Confirmation name but never goes to church anyway. I remember how the coffeeshop (“Dessert Works”) was supposed to be the next big thing when it opened up by Towne 16. I know all the back roads to get anywhere and prefer them to the expressway any day of the summer. I know when it’s low tide by the smell of the air. I’ve eaten at restaurants that have locations I, II, III, IV and V. I’ll bet that Donald Trump will be mentioned in the AC Press at least daily. I know that of all the counties in South Jersey – Atlantic County is the best and, by far, the truest example of what makes living in jersey so fucking great.