Birthday Bicycling

        I made a little list of a few things I wanted to buy, such as essential oils and empty containers to start making my own homemade products, like bug spray and deodorant. I couldn't think of where to get the containers but Wal-Mart, so I took a bike ride out to North Bergen. It was a beautiful day and a lovely ride until I got to the road where Wal-Mart lay. What else should I have expected but a beaten-up, under construction, 55mph mini-highway? I stopped at the graveyard first to have a couple brownies that would give my day a little extra gaiety. Then, I popped into Wal-Mart, mozied around a bit, and popped out, with supplies still remaining on my list.
        I didn't know where I'd find these items, but since I had checked out the area with Google Maps prior, I headed up the hill to Hudson County Park and assumed I'd pass some shops. I noticed Easy Street coming up on my right. I didn't have a definite path, so I asked myself, "Do I take the easy street?" Once I looked down that street, I saw a "DEAD END" sign, as well as lots of other signs that read things like, "$1,000 FINE," "CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR DOG," and "NO PARKING." It made me chuckle since the street was only long enough for four houses. I couldn't believe such a short road had so many rules. Looking uphill, I saw broken-up pavement in the right lane and a graveyard at the top. With only one no parking sign, it looked like one would not be as easily guided by society's rules on this path. This giant metaphor, appearing as a palpable experience, made me realize that no matter which road I choose to take, both end up in death; however, the truly rewarding one is the one in which you can see that you've accomplished something at the end. I certainly did feel good about making it up that steep hill.
        Hudson County Park was a wonderful bike ride. Plenty of green and people-watching smooshed in between the tightly-packed towns of Jersey. I ended up in Guttenberg at the end of the park toward the Hudson River, which was coincidental since my father had recently told me about his midtown Manhattan view when he lived in Guttenberg. Now, I was able to see that view too.
        On my way back to Palisades Park, I explored the streets of Fairview and Cliffside Park. I stopped into a small health store and picked up the rest of supplies. I was a bit shocked by the expense of the bill, but that inspired me to ask the storeowner if he would consider buying a line of natural products off of me. He told me he'd be happy to, so I'm currently playing with business ideas in my head to stir in some extra cash.
        I stopped into a couple Korean-owned shops so I could practice my expressions and learn new words. One establishment was the Bergen Spa, where I met 순니 (Sunny). I bought a spa day for Eliott since I knew he needed/wanted one. He was going to give me a birthday gift later in the day, so I wanted to get him something as well (I wasn't around for his birthday in February).
        In Fairview, I was getting a lot of attention. It's a largely Hispanic town and the curves of my body tend to attract men in that category. Sometimes, I get annoyed by whistles, beeps, and the casual "Hey mami" with elevator eyes, but on this day, I was feeling so good that I was soaking in the compliments like it was sunshine. At a red light, one man opened his bus door and yelled some words in Spanish to me that I didn't understand, but of course knew what he was implying. I replied, "No comprendo!" so he then began to tell me how nice my figure was in English. He pulled out his phone and tried to get my number. I was so happy to be able to use the Argentinean phrase that mi amigo, Carlos, taught me the night before during our skype call. "Segi remando!" I yelled back with a flirty smile and walked away.
        I couldn't have asked for more joy in my day. That night, I had the friends over that I've become closest with in these past two months. I felt so much love and positivity in my room as we all talked, drank, and sang the night away. I can hardly believe it. I'm one lucky duck.

Palisades Park, NJ

        I moved. I was informed that I couldn't be around while El's dad goes through treatment. I took the news lightly at first since I know have many living options at my disposal, but slowly I realized how much I loved the situation I was in and how much it would suck to be away from El and the comfort of Leonia. Fortunately, although in mid-freak-out, I found out that Bobby's mom was renting out a room. Now, I have my own space, a lot of light from a few big windows, and three cats to get to know. El fell in love with Mambo, so he decided he'd take care of her. Lucky for me. Now I won't have to deal with any chaos from the felines. I stop by to visit and I'll take her back when I leave the area, but for now I'm living only a town away. "Pal Park," I like to call it.
        About three blocks down is Broad Avenue. The Koreans own that strip. Hair salons, restaurants, ooh, and karaoke bars. A little nightlife in my backyard. It's bigger than Leonia, so I'll have more opportunity to converse in Korean. I've been taking lessons online, and now I have a textbook in the mail. Autodidactic learning rocks.

        I got my hair cut. Bobby told me that I should get a white girl fro. I loved the idea, but realized I'd need to get rid of the dreads and grow my hair out a bit for a perm. So, I made sure to enjoy and appreciate my hair until 4/20. Then, I had Bobby hack it all off. Of course, now my hair was all different lengths, so I went down to Broad Ave and stopped into the first salon I saw (there are many to choose from). They wanted forty bucks to even out my hair. I said I'd go to the ATM, but really I meant I'd go check out the deal down the street. The next salon I walked into was empty, but a middle-aged Korean woman who spoke little English assured me they were

open. She said she'd do my hair for twenty-five. She thought she finished, but there was a section of my hair that was shorter than the rest. I tried to tell her I needed it all the same length She then made me question myself. "Very, very short," she said with a concerned look on her face. I told her to go for it. At the end of the whole ordeal, I was pleased. It felt good to start fresh. I haven't had short hair since I was a baby, so I'm happy these dread gave me a reason to try it out. I handed the woman forty bucks since I was so satisfied. She was very grateful, and I left with an "Annyeonghi gyeseo!" This literally translated to "stay in peace" and is the common goodbye when one is leaving somewhere.

        I got a job. All I have to do is walk up the hill to the Italian neighborhood to start my shift at Hanky's Pizzeria and Deli as the counter gal/waitress. Charlie's the boss. His son, Charlie, is boss too. Lou has been there since they renovated the place three years ago, when Charlie took over the business. Hanky was Charlie's grandfather. He started Hanky's circa 1900. It was like a 7/11 for those days. The family is huge. I'm always meeting new cousins or brothers/sisters-in-law. Aunt Loretta lives upstairs and comes down to help every now and then. She's such a sweetheart and tells me fun stories from the past. There are some old fellas that live and have lived in the neighborhood all their lives who come in and talk about how things used to be. Old photos of the family decorate the walls. One depicts a wedding at the Catholic church across the street. I think about how perfect this job is. I don't have to work for a huge corporation. I get to work at a small place with great people. Even before coming down here, I had imagined that I'd work at a pizzeria. Serving is my thing. I like tip jobs and I like people. I learn tips along the way about making great food and, as a plus, I get to take some of that great food home at the end of the night. I was talking to Ollie the other day about this job. He told me about his friends coming out of college now that are like, "What, I can't make 60 tho with my college degree, and, instead, I'm getting a job that I could've gotten out of high school?! Shit." According to this article, "[i]n the United States today, 317,000 waiters and waitresses have college degrees." It looks like I can be just like them except without the average of $25,000 in student loan debt. Among the statistics was also "[a]ccording to very extensive research detailed in a new book entitled Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses, 45 percent of U.S. college students exhibit 'no significant gains in learning after two years in college." Of course we all learn everyday, but it looks like any type of measurable academic progress was absent. Even at this new job, I try to learn as much as possible about being the best server I can. I suppose some might find it bizarre, but traveling waitress might just become my career path. It's flexible, lucrative (enough for me), and work that I can be proud of. I basically get paid to make people smile. What could be better? I envisioned finding a passion that I can make money off of, but I think the simplicity and cheer found in this line of work is good enough for me.

        So, here I am, going day in and day out with a "normal" American life. I'm not doing anything extraordinary. I'm existing like an average nineteen-year-old, but with a twist. I move around a lot. If I don't save up enough money before winter, I think I'll head down to Boca Raton to stay with my aunt. I'll find a new server position during Florida's busy season and get to know a new place. Yeah, sure, it's the land of the retired, but if I'm aiming for wisdom, I guess the elderly are the people to talk to. I don't know much about the ethnic diversity of the area, but perhaps I can practice my Spanish at the good ol' Rat's Mouth.

        My mind likes to daydream about all of the other places I could be right now. I could stick my thumb out on the side of the road and head west...or south...or northeast. Anywhere. I could be impulsive with my savings and head overseas. But, no. Here is good. Summertime in the city is something I've dreamed of since I was little. I'll experience what the big apple has to offer and then be on my way. I remember looking at colleges and becoming frustrated that they all seemed the same. The only difference that I cared about was location. I wanted to be in the big city, but I'm realizing that college wasn't my only shot at living there, and certainly four years time was more than wanted.

        I go upstate every now and then. I visited my dad to grab some things, including my bicycle. It makes not having a car so much more enjoyable. Walking is nice. One can smell the roses during a walk, but if I need a quick commute, my bike does the job. I also picked up some more clothes. I decided a new look was in order for this new hairstyle. It's always fun to change personas. "Erica Goldson" is a blank slate. My dorm hall may know me as a hippie, but Pal Park will see something new.