my mom was in her late 20’s and starting to feel “old”. I didn’t understand why exactly this happened. Her husband at the time was in jail serving a year for possession cocaine. This was something she was happy about because it gave her youth and freedom again. I came in the picture just in time. My little brother was a year old when i met him. He seemed so small and found it strange how he wore nikes in the house because the floor had carpet. At the time i was still very small in height, this was right before my 5 inch growth spurt, i was 11. i could fit in his crib with him, i cried in that crib. I was good at taking care of him, i knew what he needed.
There was this club called “The Mirage”. This was my mom’s go to club to go with her friends. i would pass by it sometimes during the day and wondered what it was like at night, what was so special about it. During the day it was a restaurant, a restaurant you would go to for good food hangover food. At night it was THE club. My mom and her roommate would come home at times, with new clothes they would buy specially for The Mirage. I didn’t like the clothes, they didn’t interest me because it didn’t include me. The seemed inappropriate for what i wanted my mom to be and look. Leather pants and crop tops. Small purses and chunky sandals. Pronounced highlights and lip liner. I could hear them in the other room, i wasn’t allowed inside. I felt depressed, neglected and foreign. I didn’t understand the concept of how people saw me so matured to be left alone. I didn’t understand how my mom wanted to feed me a baby bottle yet not help me with my homework.
After a year i built a routine. I was very good at school and that made me feel good. I liked my school. I like the facilities and the gym. i really liked the salad dressing at lunch, the “french” one.I was so happy at how quick i learned the language, mostly because after school i would watch Arthur on PBS. i’ve always felt a connection with cartoons, i always believed they were real in another dimension that only if you were lucky enough you could go. If you wished hard enough, they were real, something so tactile. i liked coco puffs. I liked baloney. I really liked my dance class. i liked my pink coat, it was so pretty. i liked listening to z100 and i remember knowing what Michelle Branch was singing about, i understood. I understood how angry Eminem sounded and i liked it a lot. I learned how to be alone and talk on the phone with my friends. I liked my Jordans and my air force ones. I felt lucky to have a jiggly puff backpack, it was purple.