Gettin' my Jersey on. . .

Born and bred in northeastern New Jersey, I've always had an issue with being branded a "Jersey Girl." Chances are, when someone calls you one, it is not in a complimentary fashion. To avoid fitting this stereotype, I've tried for years to be the antithesis of the Jersey Girl. And lucky for me, my tiny corner of Jersey is close enough to Manhattan (approximately one mile, to be exact) that I could easily avoid most Jerseyisms in favor of Manhattanisms. Such as my accent (this may mean I'm screwed either way, depending on how you look at it), love of real-not-mall-based department stores, and affinity for only the most authentic of ethnic cuisines.

Recently, a television phenomena has completely and utterly changed my view of my own Jerseyness. What would this be, you ask?



Why, yes. It is none other than the Real Housewives of New Jersey. At first, I was certain that this hot mess would be nothing more than an embarrassment to my state and a way for the rest of the U.S. to perpetuate negative Jersey stereotypes. After watching the entire season, I had to reevaluate my feeling on the Housewives. I was shocked at how much I related to them (with the exception of the sociopath and the pushover, that is). Scary, huh?

I have to admit, this revelation caused me to do a bit of soul searching. Was I more Jersey than even I knew? Have I been denying my roots and tri-state heritage all these years? Should I embrace my inner Jersey Girl? The answers are: yes, yes, and yes.

While I have no plans to run out and get acrylic tips and a spray tan, as some of my Jersey sisters do, I will embrace my Jerseyness proudly and wear it like a badge of honor. My recent acquisition of a patent leather leopard print Marc Jacobs wallet is my first step in embracing my inner Jersey Girl. Deep down, she loves animal prints. (In small doses, obvs. I'm not quite that Jersey yet.) I've even given up my normally sleek do in favor of hair that's a little messier, and yes, a little bigger. After all, it is summer and I am a Jersey Girl, with a newfound acceptance of herself and her Jersey.

Thank you Real Housewives, for making me realize that I should be both feircely protective and immensely proud of my state. After all, we've given the world so much to make it a better place: taylor ham, the light bulb, DSL, baseball, FM radio, The Boss, Bon Jovi, and Frank Sinatra.

I'll leave you with words of wisdom from my favorite table-flipping Jersey Girl: "People make fun of Jersey girls, but I think they're just jealous." I dare think she's spot on.

My Life Has Been Changed. . .

. . . by the Kindle 2. I've been on the fence about the device since its inception. You see I love books. The knowledge they behold, the worlds they open doors into, the feel and smell of the paper, the crispness of a book's spine in my hand, the way they look on my bookshelf*, the ability to reread a book and look at it in an entirely new way. I felt that electronic versions of the tomes I loved would never feel like books to me. I feared that reading on an electronic device would give me the type of cross-eyed pain I received after staring too long at a computer screen, or drinking far too many mojitos.

Holy crap, was I wrong. The Kindle is amazing. A-MAZ-ING! The screen really does look and read just like paper. I felt not even the tiniest ounce of eyestrain after reading for hours. So much like paper, that one point, I raised my hand as if to turn a page. Since I've been Kindled, I've read more than ever. It's so incredibly easy to browse and buy books. Of the twentyish books I've downloaded, I've only paid for three or four.

Yes, you heard right. . . there are FREE books out there! Mostly very old books, of the Jane Austen/ William Shakespeare variety (which fall under Public Domain-- yippee!) and the trashtastic romance novel ilk (which normally, I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole, but since several were free, I've discovered they're not nearly as bad or as cliched as I first thought).

Now, the Kindle is clearly something I would never have bought for myself. Obvs, my three hundred buckaroos would have been spent on dresses I don't need, shoes I'll rarely wear, or high-end accessories I already have too many of (via online sample sales, of course). Which is why I must thank the Mamma, for providing such an awesometastic birthday present, as well as the sister who suggested it to the generous mamma. I now wonder how I ever lived without a device I had no idea I needed.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still do (and always will) love books. Not just the ideas they hold, but also the physical presence of paper and ink. While the Kindle is defs enabling me to read more books than ever before, and more easily, there are just some volumes that I will still have to buy actual physical copies of. Kindle-worthy and bookshelf-worthy are two different issues in my mind, with the latter being held to a much higher standard than the former.

Long story short? (Is there such a thing with me? I think not.) If you're on the fence about the Kindle as I was, fear no more. Give in. It's worth it.

*With the exception of my chick lit collection, which lies hidden behind more pretentious and intellectual titles.

A Second Attempt at Blogging. . .

. . . is now underway.

Will it be successful? You shall just have to read and see. In an effort to make it so, I deem this a general-whatever-thoughts-pop-into-my-head-stream-of-consciousness type of blog. Verbal (or in this case, manual) diarreah, is much more up my alley than anything involving any type of specialized interest, and/or the attention span of anything other than a gnat.

What, you ask, has suddenly sparked my suddenly renewed interest in blogging? My little sis, mocker of all things she deems inferior. You see, she often would viciously mock me, her boyfriend, and anyone else who blogged. She just never seemed to get why anyone would view themselves as important enough to share their thoughts with the world, via web.

Then one glorious day, she was overwrought with schoolwork and looking for an escape. Whence reading some of her favorite blogs, a lightbulb went off inside her head. "I read blogs daily, why on earth don't I write one?" And Smart on Paper was born, just like that. The student had now become the teacher, and I must scramble to catch up, blog-wise.

And so, off we go. . . (Oh yeah, I also have a great love of ellipses. Deal with it, 'kay?)