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Welcome to the life and chronicles of My Jersey Boys and me, B (the only girl who hangs out with them). Our original mission was to prove that not all of Jersey is obsessed with GTL. Now it's kind of become the place where we share our random thoughts, ridiculous stories, regular quote updates, and maybe a picture or video here and there. There's always something going on...

Love from,
The one and only,
B

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Numbered Daze...

Posted by StuckintheSeventies423 on 12:43 AM

So the boxes are out and the packing begins. Awesome… should be fun (I’ve got a lot of DVD’s and CD’s). It looks like the countdown has begun which means I’ve accepted the reality of it (not really). On top of moving out of the place I’ve called home for the past twenty-one years (although I should really move out on my own), I’ve lost my job of five years (some people blamed the economy, I blamed crooked management). The change was rapid but I can’t say unexpected. I had time to prepare myself and now time is running short. Hell, I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet that come March I won’t be going back to work. I became so familiar with the monotony of each day that the thought of everything changing has me wishing I could go back and buy a little more time.

I never wanted to be one of those hopeless assholes that sits around saying shit to strangers in bars along the lines of “man, if only I could go back in time and change everything with the knowledge I have now,” but sadly I find myself turning into that guy with each passing day. There was a time where I used to think I had some control but now I realize that I’ve been missing that for years. With each passing year, I should’ve pushed myself towards better things instead of playing it safe and settling for the same. I’ve let the safety and security of familiarity dictate how I live my life and the only person I hurt was myself. Over the past two months, I was getting together on a regular basis with some of my former co-workers with every intent on starting an original band. Things were looking up until the guitar player decided to move in with his girlfriend in Florida and the bass player went to Puerto Rico for a month. And people wonder why I don’t believe in god.

Now, I drive around and see a town that I have a lot of love for and that I also harbor a lot of hate for. Good and bad memories are up and down every street. I don’t want to leave but at the same time it might be better? There just doesn’t seem to be much of a reason for me to be here anymore. A lot of people I knew have moved on and I’m sure if they saw me now they wouldn’t want to know me. I’ve felt like a punching bag for the past few years. I have no career and no degree. What’s sucked more is going to sleep every single night knowing that not a soul out there is thinking of you. Well, tomorrow that motherfucker goes away for good. Sleep well… I’ve got whiskey.


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