A picture of me being old for your reference.
They don't store the eggs in the refrigerator section at the grocery store. They store them in the baking isle, unrefrigerated. Its anarchy. Goya Adobo doesn't exist here, everything is bland, I eat grilled chicken 3 times a week. Also, Bruce Springsteen wrote a book, there are adverts all over the tube, right next to the posters for Bastille's Wild World. Springsteen does, what only be described as an immaculate job, of explaining why you cannot truly love Jersey until you leave Jersey. And, to be quite honest, I've never really missed home until today.
Last Sunday marked a new month on the calendar, the year is passing, it seems, and it is very spoopy. Wednesday marked, 1 month in London. With this it marked, a whole month without Dunkin' Donuts, Tabor Pizza, and Time for a Bagel. And with the Friday morning sun came the beginning of another year of my life on this planet. (Turn on that song that they play at the end of American movies about high school). If there is one thing I have learned in the last year it is that in all the years I've been alive, I have never learned quite as much as I have in the last month I've been away. Both inside of myself, others, and food stores internationally.
This will probably make my Dad laugh, on account of that one time I fell asleep on him at Bruce concert. Sorry about that by the way, that must have sucked. Jess sent me Born to Run for my birthday with a cute note, "...happiest (early) birthday from me and The Boss..." (at first I was genuinely confused as to why and when she began calling Eric 'The Boss'). She reminded me later in a Facebook message that he was first and foremost a writer, and in that moment all I could hear ringing in my ears was: '...lets roll down the windows and let the wind blow back your hair,' and my heart broke. My heart broke for the Toyota Camry back in New Jersey and the many CD's in the glove. My heart broke and my (questionable) vocal chords shrunk for a moment, because all I want to do is get in a car and sing way too loud with the windows down, and you know still be safe and all. 'Broke' is an exaggeration, because my heart has never been so whole here, but you get the picture.
The funniest part about this whole thing is that, I wasn't born in the sixties, in Freehold New Jersey. I didn't go to catholic school, dream about being in a rock-band, and my Dad has always been there for me. The first time I visited Asbury Park I was 16, and had gourmet pancakes at a place called Toast with Marybeth and Catie Muir. However, the way that he talks about New Jersey in general is romantic and gives it life, it almost makes you think you miss it, and every diner from Montville to Randolph. But you see, that's the thing, you don't truly miss Jersey until it is 3,000 miles away, I miss my bed, and my backyard, things I took for granted, my salon, and my friends.
And this is all because Bruce makes you feel something in the way he writes, the reason he is the musician he is today, the reason that those adverts for a book about a weirdo from little old Freehold NJ, are plastered all over the tube in big bad London. That, right there, squished between an advert for health insurance with a wiener dog on it and one for Dream Girls the musical, is the dream. That is why I left home, and that is why its all worth it. Because if Bruce with his telephone static drawling voice, and his wild curly hair, and a leather jacket on his back, can be the Bruce Springsteen known world wide, there's no telling what I can do. This isn't to say that I'm going to be the next 'Boss,' as Beyonce would say: Bruce is Bruce and I am not. Even though I almost bought a mug that said in big black letters, "I'm the Boss" on it from Asda just because it was the largest.
This birthday has been a big one, surprisingly, it also included a sinfully good cheeseburger. That is just something that happens when your entire world changes. I cannot thank everyone who wished me well yesterday, and I'm sending love and good vibes back and I'm excited about what is to come next. I'm sorry this one was short, and really uneventful, I've got a lot of work to do, hopefully something that will be interesting enough to write about next week. You can buy Born to Run here.