Coronacation
Hey guys!! Welcome to my blog :) I am very excited to start this because I've always had a passion for writing and enjoy sharing it with others. To get to know me a little better, here is a piece I wrote when I was graduating high school for my Creative Writing class. It is a list of things I have lost in my life:
Many, many pairs of Under Armour socks that were a size too small. A High School Musical “Gabriella Montez” necklace that my mom bought me at the Westchester Mall. The CT spelling bee when I was in fourth grade because I couldn’t spell “carriage” correctly. The chance to go to a senior party when I was freshman because my mom refused to let me go. Sleep. So much sleep. My mint-green water bottle that my friend got me for my sixteenth birthday.
My innocence in eighth grade when my grade was playing Bingo and Mrs. Warren called out O69 and the whole class started chuckling but I looked around confused. My friend dragged me into the library that day and wrote down what the joke meant on a crumpled sheet of paper from her backpack because she was too embarrassed to explain it out loud. That same friend three years later after I told her she wasn’t doing anything meaningful in her life. She continued stuffing her chubby face with junk food everyday and complaining about not doing well in school when she never put any effort into it. Another ex-best friend who also showed no passion in anything. All our polaroid photographs from the beach and movie adventures we used to go on. The energy to care about toxic people.
My perfect vision in fourth grade. Many plastic Poland Spring water bottles. My car keys. My childhood when I entered high school because society began finally treating me like a teenager. I loved that feeling then but now I wish that moment came far later. A need for a babysitter in sixth grade when I took a CPR course on my birthday to be able to babysit other kids. Lots of blood about every twenty-eight days since I was ten. The belief in Santa Clause when I was eight and discovered wrapped Christmas presents in the basement on the morning of the 24th. The backs to lots of my earrings. Many arguments with my parents who always played the excuse that they were simply superior to me. A few iPhone chargers.
My hamster, Lola, who I got when I was about twelve. She died when I was fourteen. My black cat transported from Poland who got ate by a coyote in my backyard when I was away on a Nature’s Classroom trip in sixth grade. My brown fish who I named Greeny. My sister overfed him one day. Other goldfish that I won at random local carnivals. A ladybug that my second grade classmates buried in a pile of playground wood chips. My golden-retriever, Zuza, in seventh grade who died suddenly from heart cancer.
My innocence in eighth grade when my grade was playing Bingo and Mrs. Warren called out O69 and the whole class started chuckling but I looked around confused. My friend dragged me into the library that day and wrote down what the joke meant on a crumpled sheet of paper from her backpack because she was too embarrassed to explain it out loud. That same friend three years later after I told her she wasn’t doing anything meaningful in her life. She continued stuffing her chubby face with junk food everyday and complaining about not doing well in school when she never put any effort into it. Another ex-best friend who also showed no passion in anything. All our polaroid photographs from the beach and movie adventures we used to go on. The energy to care about toxic people.
My perfect vision in fourth grade. Many plastic Poland Spring water bottles. My car keys. My childhood when I entered high school because society began finally treating me like a teenager. I loved that feeling then but now I wish that moment came far later. A need for a babysitter in sixth grade when I took a CPR course on my birthday to be able to babysit other kids. Lots of blood about every twenty-eight days since I was ten. The belief in Santa Clause when I was eight and discovered wrapped Christmas presents in the basement on the morning of the 24th. The backs to lots of my earrings. Many arguments with my parents who always played the excuse that they were simply superior to me. A few iPhone chargers.
My hamster, Lola, who I got when I was about twelve. She died when I was fourteen. My black cat transported from Poland who got ate by a coyote in my backyard when I was away on a Nature’s Classroom trip in sixth grade. My brown fish who I named Greeny. My sister overfed him one day. Other goldfish that I won at random local carnivals. A ladybug that my second grade classmates buried in a pile of playground wood chips. My golden-retriever, Zuza, in seventh grade who died suddenly from heart cancer.
Pink Nike shorts, purple sunglasses, a white t-shirt, and bright coral sneakers that I left in my gym locker on the last day of school of sophomore year in high school. The courage to speak up in class surrounded by kids who you know are far smarter than you. Crumpled dollar bills. An orange sports bra. A lavender and rose-gold fitbit that I got for Christmas in 2016. A baby blue Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal at the Stamford Mall. A deck of cards. The chance to play spin the bottle at Junior After Prom. Lots of hair ties and bobby pins from competitive cheer competitions. Many games of rock, paper, scissors. Ice skating lessons that my mom made me take in elementary school.
My uncle when he cheated on my aunt after being married to her for ten years. My neighbor who lived to 107. Friends who went to college. Friends who simply drifted apart. Friends who moved. Friends who I could no longer stand. My great-grandmother in the February of 2016. A few boys along the way. My dad when my mom divorced him. I then realized that he never loved anyone but himself.
The ability to stay up all night on New Years Eve. A chunk off my two front teeth when I fell of a huge fence guarding a soccer field and lost consciousness. Belief that adults can solve any problem. Gymnastics lessons that I took in elementary school. My Champions League ring. Lots of sweat generated from anxious situations. The desire to be liked by everyone. Self-pity, at least most days, while striving to concentrate on all my blessings. Braces I wore for three years. A colorful flip flop in the Atlantic Ocean. The taste for my high school’s cafeteria chicken tenders because they were undercooked too many times.
My uncle when he cheated on my aunt after being married to her for ten years. My neighbor who lived to 107. Friends who went to college. Friends who simply drifted apart. Friends who moved. Friends who I could no longer stand. My great-grandmother in the February of 2016. A few boys along the way. My dad when my mom divorced him. I then realized that he never loved anyone but himself.
The ability to stay up all night on New Years Eve. A chunk off my two front teeth when I fell of a huge fence guarding a soccer field and lost consciousness. Belief that adults can solve any problem. Gymnastics lessons that I took in elementary school. My Champions League ring. Lots of sweat generated from anxious situations. The desire to be liked by everyone. Self-pity, at least most days, while striving to concentrate on all my blessings. Braces I wore for three years. A colorful flip flop in the Atlantic Ocean. The taste for my high school’s cafeteria chicken tenders because they were undercooked too many times.
