Throughout my teenage years, I’ve lived with the support of my family. I can barely cook, and I don’t go places alone. Some people cross the so-called threshold into adulthood gradually, but I’m going for an all-at-once approach. What better way to make the leap than by forcing myself to adapt?
The end of high school means that I’m no longer bound to anyone or any place, so I can pretty much do whatever I want. Therefore, my plan is that my dad drops me off in San Francisco, and I live here by myself for like two or three weeks. Almost. I’m with my grandparents, but I’m not expecting them to help me cook or navigate the city.
So I spend my first night alone. At one A.M., a late-night Muni bus zips across the street. One of my grandparents listens to Chinese instrumental music. I look like a ghost in the windows.
Stuffed cows line the shelves—the mascot of my uncle’s alma mater (and now mine). Before my move into his abandoned room, I had only ever stayed in the first-story area that we inaccurately call the basement. A long time ago, when my family still lived in Burma or around the outskirts of Chinatown as my grandpa had described, it was supposedly an underground bar or something. The light switches in our house desperately need rewiring: the two rooms that I stayed in have no working lights.
In my preparation for my time alone, I bought my first actual adult bike—a green Schwinn Suburban—from Katie in Sacramento. The bike’s name is Kermit. I’m so bad at riding that cars hesitate in fear of me. I rationed one meal into four meals because that thing was forty dollars, picked up three pennies from the ground, and navigated the supermarket for the cheapest apple juice.
I anxiously ate a peach while I paced around the house.
I watched my dad’s white car disappear down the hill that carries our house. Then I chased it across the street where I could see it descend the slope, crawl towards the lofty dark trees of Golden Gate Park, and make a right turn, disappearing behind a house. With a sudden rush, I raced back across the street to my home without looking back until I reached the twisting silver gate.
My goals are as follows:
- Learn how to cook everyday meals and eventually make a complex dish from scratch
- Become better at riding my bike (like, good enough to ride on the street safely)
- Weed the garden of its invasive blackberry plants
- Openly and amiably talk with strangers
- Visit various neighborhoods of San Francisco
- Learn how to ride and navigate the Muni bus and either BART or Caltrain
- Write an average of five hundred words a day