Today I wasted an entire day in Jersey, and am seriously enacting a Never-Go-To-Jersey-Again rule. Now, normally, I waste my day in Jersey, so in one sense, today was no big deal. But today was special in the sense that I got nearly nothing of substance accomplished at my first job. Because I had top spend the morning working on preparation for the first job, I had to cancel the tutoring gig as well. Dinner was really really nice, as was the company, so all was not lost. But then I left late, and took the PATH train to get back to Manhatten. The thing is, while cleaning out a lot of crap from my Jersey gig, I somehow got burdened with a whole bunch of stuff, which is exactly what I didn't want, as I felt the need to maybe actually go out and meet girls for once in my life. When I got to the PATH station in Hoboken, the activity was especially raucus, as was the prevelance of green. That's when it hit me, this was the Saturday before St. Patrick's Day! This was the day to get to the bars and hit on drunk girls, if there ever was one. But of course, I was loaded down with two bags of crap. Unlike the subways or commuyer trains of New York, New Jersey does not strongly feel the need to install signage directing you to the proper train. Just a few incomprehensible maps (the lines are labeled with color on the map, but are not named, and of course the trains are not color coded), signs that only apply during rush hour (but which don't inform you of that fact), and lines which double dead end to get from point A to Point C (more on this in a moment). Me, being a New Yorker who is used to a minimal of logic and order to my trains, was savvy enough to know to double check my hunches, but lost nonetheless. I failed to realize that the train to Newark from New York would stop first at the dead end stop of Hoboken, before moving to the dead end stop of Newark. I failed to read the part of the map that told of the alternate schedule that hits after 7:30pm weekends, which runs completely opposite to all of the large signs posted on the platforms. I discarded my instinct to just get on the train to 33rd street, NYC, cocky in my self assured ability to get to the WTC stop. And of course, I forgot the primary lesson of New Jersey, which is NEVER GO TO JERSEY. There's nothing there you can't see just as well on TV (Jets games), and the rest of the state is total crap. If you can find your way anywhere in the first place, with all their moon-man one way no way opposite way transportation nonesense. And so, after wasting an hour, and yet another getting to the office to drop off all the heavy crap I've been toting around, I'm now too tired to head out and meet chicks on the 3rd most drunken night of the year. Stupid Jersey.