Jersey Girl

by Tamar Caspi under Relationships

Dear Tamar,

I live about a half hour outside of NYC.  It seems that every man on JDate lives in the city! Since I don’t drive in the city, it would cost me about $20 every time I want to go in for a date, and I find that most New Yorkers aren’t willing to come to New Jersey.  Is it worth the money to keep spending on traveling to first dates? Should I expect the man to make the trip to see me?  I’m a pure Jersey girl, and I think this is hurting me in finding a relationship.  How can I fight this distance barrier? Please help!

Dear Jersey Girl,

How much is the chance of meeting your Beshert worth? $20 each time can add up quickly, sure, especially when the first dates are duds. But eventually that $20 is going to lead to a serious relationship at which point the man will start driving out to Jersey on a regular basis. Is there somewhere you can suggest to meet in between or at least somewhere near where your train lets off so you don’t have to commute plus deal with NYC traffic? I know Jersey gets a bad rap (thank you Jersey Shore), but as a true Jersey girl try to reshape people’s views by being a class act about the commute.


What Santa Doesn’t Know Won’t Hurt Us…

by SweetLo under Entertainment,JBloggers

After a recent West Hollywood trip that went awry, and looked more like a scene from MTV’s Jersey Shore, I’ve been trying to keep it less club happy and more late-night low-key. Why anyone would want to fake tan enough to resemble an oompa loompa is beyond me, but then again, I’m so pale I could be a member of the famed fangtastic Cullen clan. It’s one thing to go and have a good time, but it’s quite another to go out and not remember if you had a good time, what you may or may not have said to cause your friend to stop talking to you, and if you do or do not need to get a prescription for Plan B today. If that’s what you’re looking for, just set your DVR to watch the next episode of “what not to do when out,” care of the east coast kids who should be auditioning for the next Axe Hair Crisis Relief commercial. Hollyweird is simply a cesspool for drunken debauchery, and tres fun in moderation, but only to find Mr. Right Now, not Mr. Right. So pack up that wristlet for a night on the town with caution, because True Life: I need a nice dude is not in the works just yet (but should be). So maintain your manners while walking the boulevard and kick the California calorie count to the curb prior to pre-gaming those cocktails, before you end up on the next episode of Intervention. See you over the hill again soon. The aforementioned rules and restrictions applicable to all 364 nights a year except the Schmooz-A-Palooza, because whatever happens on Sunset stays there…Santa’s too busy to tell on us.