Quarter Life Crisis

My first year at Rutgers Newark was a disaster. My grades were terrible; probably due to the fact that I was smoking multiple times a day, everyday. I wasn't doing any work, I was screwing around outside of school, I wasn't taking anything seriously....

I skated through high school. I was lucky to be that kid that everybody knew. I was an athlete, I was an anchor on our daily news bulletin, a live broadcast to every class in the school, that started every morning, (along with the flag salute). I talked to kids from sports teams, the choir, the band, color guard, dance team, etc. You name it, I was friends with somebody there. All my teachers absolutely loved me, so my grades were represented as such.

Well, obviously, this didn't work once I got to college. All I wanted to do was hang out with my group of guys, have fun and take nothing seriously, and yes, this reflected on my grades. At school I had a personality equivalent to a boulder. I slept in every class, (I actually found out I had mono during this time). I sat by myself and spoke to nobody in my classes. I didn't want to be bothered.

After freshman year ended, my GPA was at a miniscule 2.5. I had the same habits and still hated everything about Rutgers Newark. I don't remember when, or why...or how, for that matter, but something happened to me that summer that made me evolve. One day, I was a scummy loser, and the next day I woke up alive and mature, ready to take on life. It was as if one night's sleep changed me; I pulled a 180. I decided I was going to take school seriously, stop fucking around and figure out what direction I wanted to go in life. I asked myself, "Where is this going to start?"

Well, that's a pretty dumb question to ask yourself. Start with your education, your future. Start your evolution at college, you stupid fuck!

The first day of my sophomore semester I decided I'd make some new friends. I figured that talking to people and conversing with people would open me up a little; it would help me become more social. I met a bunch of people that were the most chill and down to Earth people that I've ever met. I still talk to them on a daily basis and we hang out as often as possible.

To make a long story short, my GPA skyrocketed. Last semester I finished with a 3.7 ! I decided I'd major in Criminal Justice, along with a minor in Computer Science. Most importantly, I broke out of my immature stage. I stopped being miserable and lazy and stupid, and made some great memories with some new, close friends.

I called it my "quarter life crisis."

"Repeat yourself."

21. “Repeat yourself. If you like it, do it again. If you don’t like it, do it again.”

            I wake up every morning around the same time, whether I need to get ready for work, school, or my Fire Academy course. I need to check up on sports daily, so I watch ESPN or check the ScoreCenter app on my phone just saw I could get my daily fix. Some source of physical activity must be present in my day; if it is late at night, and I have found that I didn’t work out at all, I’ll walk around my block in a few times or go for a bike ride. I love staying in good health and shape. Staying hygienic is important, so I brush my teeth and shower on a daily basis. Obviously I eat and drink the proper amount of fluids to keep me awake and alert. Oh, and for breakfast, I need my daily vitamins. I make sure to check my betting website daily; I know my sports and winning gives me a thrill that is hard to be matched. It’s like winning a mini lottery, but not based off of luck, off of my personal knowledge. I often search PLNDR and H&M’s online website, in case anything I like goes on sale or is newly added to the website. I love fashion, and dressing nicely and properly makes an individual seem more organized, independent, individualistic and unique. Social media is a must, sadly. I don’t have much time to see my friends, so social media and texting is a way for me to keep up with their lives and how they’re doing on a daily basis.

            I hate doing homework, but who doesn’t? I need to do it, because my grade (and hopefulness for a future job) depends on it. Driving my parents or my sister to work every day is a nuisance, but they need to make money to help support themselves and myself, as well. For the first time in my life, I think I would be able to grow an awesome beard, but the necessity to shave for fire school hinders that from happening. I wish my cat could feed herself. I hate the smell of that nasty food in the microwave. Sleep? HA! A figment of my imagination. Insomnia is a real sickness, people; you aren’t an insomniac just because you stay up until 2am. It’s beyond my control, but it’s a daily routine I can’t break.

Since Kindergarden

My short term memory is terrible; I could barely remember the last sentence I spoke or the last thing I ate, but my long term memory is fabulous. I'd say the best aspect of my long term memory is my ability to remember faces. Once I see an individuals face, I could tell you how I know them, where I met them, and most importantly, their name. Even if I don't know them, I am positive I'll be able to recognize if I have ever seen the individual before.

You're probably wondering what the fuck I'm talking about . . . .

Well, I was buying lunch at Robeson the other day, and I was staring at this girl for a solid five minutes...but I wasn't just staring; I was in a deep mental trance and my mind was wondering who this girl was and how I knew her. So, it probably looked like I had to shit or something, and I was day dreaming, all while staring at some girl.

It didn't click. You know when you can't remember something and it pisses you off so much that it sticks with you for the rest of the day and you stress over it and you just feel like screaming, "FUCK!, but you can't because you're in public???? Yeah, that's exactly how I felt.

I went home and the only thing on my mind was where I have seen this girl before. So I went on my phone and checked every source of social media I have. Twitter followers? Nope. Instagram followers? No. Contact List? Nope. I decided to check my Facebook, saw my friends list and realized I would have to scroll through over 2,000 friends. So I did....

Luckily for me, before I even started checking my friends list, I decided to refresh my Facebook home page. The first status was an old friend I had from Hasbrouck Heights, saying how she had so much homework to do for college. I read her name and the anxiety and stress fled from my body, it was her! Her name was Rachel, and her and I were those little kids who were best friends and did everything together. Mind you, I moved from Heights in third grade, so I haven't seen this girl in years.

I decided to message her and told her I think I saw her at Rutgers Newark, and proceeded to ask her if she went to school there. Damn I'm good, because I was right. I haven't seen this girl since I was probably 8 years old, and I recognized her face 12 years later. We wound up meeting up at school the next day and caught up; we spoke about how our families were and how life has changed over the many years. What a coincidence that we ran into eachother.

Tickets

For a few of my semesters here at RU, I'd have a day where I only had one class, so there was no point of taking the train when I could just drive to school. The transportation for school is so much faster when I drive because there is no train that I need to catch. I would drop my mother off to work in Lodi, my father off to work in Clifton, and take the car to school. I mean, it did fucking suck that I had to pick them up at 5pm, but at least I could have the car for myself for a few hours....

My first semester I was stuck with a math class at 8:30am on Friday morning, (the last time I will ever take a class that early). I would drive every Friday, so I had to drive everybody to work for 8, and then rush to Newark and park before my class started. I received about 10 tickets in the mail in a matter of a month for "blowing red lights". Those fucking cameras are good; it was funny, because they give you a link where you could watch a video of yourself blowing the light. Every time I'd say to myself, "There is no way I blew this light that bad....", but trust me when I tell you, the light was red for at least 3-5 seconds.

Yeah, that was 45-60 dollars down the drain every letter, depending on the area in which I blew the light.

Well, anyways, once I got into Newark, I would be driving around in circles for fifteen minutes looking for a parking spot. Whether I parked on Bleeker, University Ave, or any other street, I probably got a ticket once a week. It took me a while to understand that some meters have an A,B,C,D parking range, some have just A and B, some are 2 hour limits and others are only 1 hour limits. I would remember walking to my car, seeing that ticket in the windshield underneath the wipers, and getting so pissed off. I specifically remember finding parking up past Essex County Community College, about a mile or so outside of campus. I was fed up with the tickets and figured I'd find free parking, no matter how far I would have to walk. After my classes ended, I was walking back to my car and actually watched the officer put the ticket on my windshield. I lost my shit. I told the officer this is bullshit, and that I do not deserve a ticket for parking here. There was no yellow curb, no fire hydrant, no meters, no residents only parking, NOTHING! The officer had me read the sign that was displayed a few cars in front of me. No exaggeration, it read "No Parking: Tuesdays 4pm-5pm". I looked at my phone to check the time, and it was about 5 minutes past 4, (my class finished at 3:50). I guess that's where they fuck you. Tuesday, from 4pm- 5pm. I thought I was on Punk'd for a second, looking for Ashton fucking Kutcher hidden in a bush somewhere, but then I realized I'm not a celebrity....

Here's some advice fellow bloggers: pay your fucking meters correctly and don't run red lights in Newark.

Jim Brown

My day was finally over. A tiring Thursday afternoon; four straight classes followed by a nice workout at the Golden Dome. I took a shower in the locker room, put my school clothes back on and started my walk back to the train station . . . .

School was getting pretty overwhelming, and with summer a few weeks away, I had established a serious case of the similarities to "Senioritis." School was stressful and I couldn't wait until my exams were over so I could enjoy my summer. Well, at least I didn't have school for the next three days, so I just wanted to get on this damn train and go home.

I made it to the train station. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet; "Fuck, no ticket." I took some money and change out of my wallet, and as I put the money into the machine, a gentleman appeared behind my left shoulder.

I always have the same experiences with homeless people in Newark. I hear some bullshit story, which, most of the time, makes absolutely no sense and has no correlation to anything relevant in life, and get begged for some money. I don't mean to make myself seem like such a great person, but a majority of the time I give the person some change. Usually, I'll buy them a dollar nutrition bar at the concession stand in the train station, just so I am sure that they won't use my dollar to buy any drugs.

I forget the story he threw at me. Maybe something similar to, "I need some money for a train ticket home." I don't remember, but I think I didn't pay attention to him, to be honest. I acted like he was inexistent.

He tapped my shoulder, and when I turned around, he said, "Who's Peterson?" I knew exactly what he was talking about. I was wearing my Adrian Peterson Vikings jersey. I went on to explain to him who he was, and how he was the best running back, maybe the best football player in the NFL at the time. He was amazed and kept asking me questions about AP, he wanted to know more. You could tell he was so interested in every verb and adjective I used to describe AP and how fierce, hard and elusive he was as a running back.

Then, it was his turn to talk. He asked me if I've ever heard of Jim Brown. I told him yes, but I obviously never watched him play. The man spoke about Jim Brown as if he was a God; he even told me he was "hands down the best football player" he's ever seen. The man knew so much information about Jim Brown. For example, he told me where he went to college, how many rushing yards he had in his career, how many touchdowns, etc. The man's eyes were huge and bright, as if he was reminiscing back on the good old days.

The train pulled up, and I told him I'm sorry, but I didn't have any money for him. He seemed not to care, I could tell our conversation meant much more to him than one dollar. He thanked me, blessed me and told me God is watching me and has my back. That man taught me a valuable lesson that day. I understood to keep my ears and eyes open more. Just because the man was homeless, doesn't mean I should make assumptions and think he was such a terrible and worthless person.

Inspiration from a student

"You see, I just got out of the hospital and I figured I'd come to the train station and beg. I hate begging for change but I need to get home." .....or "I just got out of jail and I need to buy a train ticket." .... but mostly, "Hey man, you have a dollar for me?"

Almost everyday after school, from my walk down University Avenue to Broad Street Station, I get approached by some sort of homeless and/or handicapped individual asking for money. I mean, it doesn't bother or scare me at all; living in Clifton, Lodi and Paterson has presented me with similar altercations. Yeah, a majority of these beggars probably need their fix, whether it be crack, alcohol, etc. Yet, one experience and a blog post by a student in our class has made me realize something different.

There was a woman, right outside Broad Street Station. She sat in a wheelchair, due to the fact that her right foot was amputated. I was approached with her hospital story, how her foot was amputated as a child due to infection, and whether she could borrow some money. I mean, we aren't dumb; most people are aware when a crack head or alcoholic, or any sort of heavily drug abused individual is in our presence. The features are very distinct, and, (call me rude or stereotypical), especially in a city like Newark, these individuals are easy to spot out.

Except, this woman actually seemed like your average 50 year old, African American woman. She went on to tell me a story of her childhood. I had a few minutes to spare before the train came, so I decided to listen. Once, some guy explained to me how much he loves the NFL and how Jim Brown was the best running back he has ever seen in his life....

Back to the woman. She was very sweet, and kept going into detail about her life of poverty and being handicapped.

A few days later, one of the students wrote a blog about her troubles with arthritis...

I analyzed Alyssa's blog so much while reading it. It really made me think and understand how much people can suffer, even due to a handicap issue that nobody can notice by looking at you. This woman lived her whole life in severe poverty, and on top of that, did not have a foot, yet, she seemed so happy and thrilled and grateful to be alive! Basically, I am trying to explain to you all that the Alyssa's blog really made me realize not to take anything for granted. Also, the woman at the train station also inspired me in a way. As much as I think my life may suck, or how much I may be down at one point, there is always a way for me to get back up. Also, there are many people that have it worse than I do. Not a knock on them at all, but rather a knock on myself. This woman really changed my outlook on not taking life for granted and actually live a little.

Just because things aren't looking up doesn't mean I can turn things around and make an experience or a lesson out of it.

I guess . . .

My blog will contain images, confrontations, conversations and experiences from my time in Newark. This blog is my introductory blog post, so my audience could understand what my blogs will consist of (as well as how my mornings start every day).

My typical introduction will be the train ride I take to Newark everyday, but prior to my commute, I have the same routine every morning. I am a very habitual person; I guess that's how things go when you have OCD. So, once I wake up at 8, the first thing on my mind is eating. I metabolize faster than your average human. I cook my egg whites, usually three, and have my glass of orange juice with my daily vitamins and fish oil pills. I make sure I have my school clothes picked out ready to go, instead of staring at my full closet worth of clothes and thinking to myself, "I have nothing to wear." I guess that's what having older sisters did to me. Throw on my clothes, hit the road, and off to Montclair State University train station....

I can write an entire blog solely on my stories on the NJ Transit Train, but I figured my experiences in Newark were much more controversial, meaningful and, well, much more fucked up. I guess Newark is just a peculiar and irregular city... Don't misinterpret my words, I am not bashing Newark whatsoever, I'm just telling it how it is. Shit, I'm one of the most peculiar and irregular guys I know.

Comparing myself as a young Caucasian male to an urban American, mixed race city? I guess I have a few comparisons, (other than peculiarity). Ill save those for my remaining entries . . .

Well, back to my "typical introduction". After parking at MSU, I usually have to sprint up three flights of stairs, over the overpass, and down a different three flights of stairs to make it to the train platform before 8:56. I guess I need to start waking up a littler earlier. Anyways, I jump onto the train, and arrive in Newark before 9:30.

And then, it begins . . . . The start of my day in Newark, where crack heads talk to wheelchairs, the air is filtered with the smell of marijuana, a homeless man smashes his toes with bricks and so many other deranged stories. Yet, I am also speaking about the same city where business is extraordinary, history surrounds every corner and the tiniest gesture could really make somebody's day. I guess you'll need to keep reading my blog entries to find out more.