To my life as an only child.
For me things were a system of goals and challenges. Also routine. (I am ALL about routine)
I spent my saturday mornings waking up suuuuper early,watching Rescue 911 then some show that I can’t remember but it had the same girl from the movie girl on a milk carton. Then dr. Quinn would come on and I would know that part of my morning was over, turning the living room tv off and contiuning on with my ”weekend no touching the floors” to the kitchen. This was done with crawling, leaping, and climbing over furniture… Then tossing pillows around to the spots I couldn’t reach. Once I made it to the kitchen I would cook up two hot dogs cover them with bbq sauce and watch abc’s saturday morning cartoons from the kitchen stool.
TGIF every fridays or turning off all the lights up stairs and watching SNiCK while eatting microwave carmel corn. Shelby Woo wrapped of the night if are you afraid of the dark didn’t freak me out.
Telling awful jokes. ( I still think they were great but apparently my parents didn’t think so) stamping my whole body with blue stamps or hiding in my secret hide out and doing food experiments.
Opening up my own private eye office or learning as many magic tricks as I could or building a whoopy cushion trap!
Dedicated to David Sedaris and Amy Sedaris- who made being fucked-up, odd and weird okay.
In talking with people about their experiences growing-up and their family, I have come to realize I don’t have a normal experience and relationship with my family.
I always somewhat thought I did. Lived with my grandparents for a few years until my family moved to Washington. From there I remember bits and pieces… daycare, playing by myself (games and ideas that I seems to be too far advance for at the age of 3.) and such. Moving a few times… spending most of my time with my dad at school until it was time for me to go to school. From there I was raised by high school students, teachers, coaches, and educated minds. I guess it paid off in some way…. I could tell you the capital of almost every country, recite the Declaration of Independence, do algebra II, and explain basic chemistry waaayyy before the age of 10. Unfortunately I think that is why I never had friends that weren’t 3 or 4 years older than me….but I am not complaining. I think I had it good. Wiser minds taught me the good things in life early, because of it I became a well-rounded, independent, stubborn, passionate person. I was everyone’s friends, the person that people could rely on, trust, I was someone who would listen, not judge, Self motivating, problem solving… control freak.
Thinking back… I dont really remember my parents too much in my life when I was living with my grandparents…. I know they were there…. but where? I had an understanding that if I was sick my mom couldn’t be around. That’s cool. Nothing new to me. It still is the case today. People assume that I present myself the way I do in protest of my mom always pampering me… doing my hair, dressing me in matching outfits (that happened once), etc…. but in real life. My dad ATTEMPTED to do my hair, I dressed myself from day one I feel (resulting in a nice collection of Cheetah costumes, weird matching colors, and artistic creations… I was theater and art to the core) My mom wasn’t in my life too much. I remember more days when I was young of her being comatose in bed on oxygen or somewhere states away in a hospital. And when we was alive and kicking- she still was bruised and weak. I remember many times where the ambulance had to come “fix” her.
I have had a lot of people think that I am very closed off or its seems that I don’t care about my mom having cancer. That really isn’t the case. I love my mom very very much… we definitely don’t see eye to eye and almost everything. But she is my mom and I understand that the things she does for me or says to me, no matter how much i think its dumb or annoying or not what I want, it is because she loves me and that’s the only way she knows. She tries her best to understand my rapidly changing interests and passions. Sometimes its frustrating when people don’t think I can relate to things because I appear to not care about things…. I do care…certain things just hit home for me and I don’t like getting emotional about things publicly. My mom having cancer is nothing new… my whole life she has been fighting it. No remission. No breaks. If it wasn’t one thing it was the next. If it wasn’t her it was me. My battle with cancer was short, really short. But with it I get sick easy and hard. I spent all of 1st grade and part of 2nd sick in and out of the hospital. (That was one of my mom and mines bonding time… we both had shunts.) Then I got sick in high school and missed a ton. Whateve.
My family not being close isn’t new to me either. My whole life my family has never talked too much. We spend all our time in separate rooms. We ate the same meal, just in different rooms. Our time together was when we were going somewhere or holidays. I love my family the way it is. We laugh and make fun of each other…. we frustrate each other and yell or argue. My dad knows if ANYTHING is off with me just by looking at me. He is a good guy. I think I am a lot like him, very closed off and secretive. We both have many stories to tell but don’t. He has his reasons… and I have mine. Maybe they are the same… maybe they aren’t. I don’t like flaunting thing and need that STRONG sense of trust, reliability, and pure compassion from someone before I feel I can share.
Sunday, May 9, 2010 Seattle, WA.
Benaroya Hall. Tickets available by calling 206-215-4747
or visit www.benaroyahall.org.
- 2 firm pears
- Juice of half a lemon
- 1/2 cup apple juice
- 1/2 cup water
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- 4 small scoops vanilla ice cream, for serving
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F.
2. Peel the pears with a vegetable peeler. Cut them in half lengthwise, leaving the stems on two of the halves if possible, and remove cores with a small melon baller. Place in an 8x8-inch baking pan, cut-side down.
3. Combine the lemon juice, apple juice, water, and brown sugar; pour over the pears. Set the pan over medium heat and bring the juices to a boil. Cover the pan with aluminum foil. Bake for 40 minutes (basting after 15 minutes), or until the pears are tender when tested with a toothpick.
4. Chill the pears overnight in the refrigerator, covered with the cooking syrup. Serve in four small dessert bowls to fit, cored-side up, with a small scoop of ice cream in the center of each. Spoon a little of the syrup into each bowl.