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Daniel Zamora
Grinnell, Iowa USA
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It Is now 9:58 am, Sunday March 12, 2006. I accepted this assignment at 9:57 and wasted over a minute opening the document program and changing the margins to my page. I sometimes feel like my life is driven that way all the time. I always set the margins in word to 1", I rearrange my furniture every two or three months, I change clothes twice a day, and I change notebooks twice in the semester. I was born in Orizaba, Veracruz, in Mexico on April 18, 1984. I was born at night and it was very interesting to actually talk to my mom about it. She says she had gone to the mercado that morning and that she started feeling the contractions around 4pm. I was born almost 6hrs later. I was not the most planned child. I am the youngest, and as my parents say it, they "thought two children were enough." But oh well, here comes Danny!!! My mom got pregnant and she told my dad that it would be nice to have a third child. My dad was happy and somehow forgot he didn't really want me. The day I was born, my dad was working, so he was not at the hospital with my mama. I think that really was how my life was supposed to be from there on, at least the relationship with my dad. I lived in the same house since I was born until I was 17. We lived in Rio Blanco, which is the city next to Orizaba. As far as I can remember, my house has always been 2 stories. You would come in, through the main door, which faced north, and was made of metal, like many of the houses in Mexico. You would come in to the living room right away, and you had two choices, either going left to a staircase that led to our three bedrooms, or keep on walking straight into the dining room with the kitchen on the right. The floors were polished concrete on the first floor, and raw concrete on the top. It's funny to remember seeing that the walls were not perfect and had some bumps in them because, after all, my dad is the one who designed and built the house. The whole house is made of brick and concrete, and it's very beautiful. I spent a lot of my childhood in the kitchen. The kitchen was a medium sized room, about 14x20 feet, with a table in the center, a yellow fridge on the northeast corner, the stove next to the wall that went to the patio, and a system of concrete shelves where my mom had everything she needed to cook. My mom is a great cook, and thanks to her is that I can make a delicious meal with the most humble ingredients. The roof was made of sheets of corrugated metal, which sat on a wooden structure. Every time it rained really hard, the wholes in the metal sheets would drip and wet the inside of the kitchen. I used to put buckets to catch the water. I used to sit under the table and listen to the rain. It has always been a pleasure of mine, and it is one of the most amazing sounds I remember. Rio Blanco lies in a high altitude tropical forest so it rains a lot and often. Back to my time in the kitchen. I loved to sit under the table, drinking my bottle, and smelling the food my mom would cook. She would often hand me something to eat under the table. She knew that was my little world. Nobody could disturb me there, since they could not see me. I have just put a package of Ramen in the microwave. I eat a lot of Ramen, but I did not as much until I met Tony. He was really the introduction into Ramen world. Three minutes in the microwave. My little world was never disturbed, not by my mom, neither by my siblings. I started going to school when I was 3. Kindergarten in Mexico is pretty much, much better than preschool in the US. The kinder that I used to go to was called Gonzalo Vasquez Vela, and it was about 6 or 7 blocks away from home, and so was my elementary school, and middle school.
In kindergarten I met this one kid, his name was Adan. And he was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I don't think I was in love with him then, but he definitely rocked my world. We met during the first day of classes, and kept in touch until high school. He was my best friend in kinder. Our moms would make our lunch, and we would always share. There were times when my mom would send something especially for him, or his mom would for me. We always gave each other presents, and we spent all time together. We sat together in class, went to recess together, and even stayed after school for a little while. My preschool was right next to the all-girl elementary school. There was a fence in between the schools, but that did not prevent some of the girls to come and pinch our cheeks or tell us how cute we were. Adan and I used to love to go to Matita, the custodian who would tell us stories during recess by the pool. She was the most amazing person. I wish I knew what ever happened to her. The pool was always empty, except in those occasions when we all got permission to go into the pool. It was about two feet deep. A children's pool, go figure. There are several pictures of my childhood, when I am with Adan, and we are always holding hands. One of my favorite pictures is one during a parade when I was wearing a mask with glitter and he was wearing a red nose. When I moved to the second year of preschool, Adan and I ended up with different teachers. I cried and cried, asking my mom to do something about it. Of course, she did. She talked to Adan's mom, and finally, they moved him to my class. That was the first time I got everything I wanted. We stayed together, and then moved to elementary school.
By the time I got into elementary school, I was six. I was one of the most advanced children in my class, since while they were learning the ABC, I was reading and writing simple stories. My mom was in charge that I learned as much as I could, therefore, she taught me how to read and write. I had the opportunity to move up one grade, but I said no because I liked the teacher too much. I started hanging out alone from the beginning of elementary school. I would stay in the classroom and read during recess. Or I would come to the teacher and talk to her. I was quite the character, friendly, yet alone. My classmates seemed to be sharing lots of time together, but I did not feel drawn to playing with them. I nourished my mind. I soaked up every single word in every single book every single time that I had a chance. That's the way my life went all the way to fourth grade. There is not much mentioning in those early years, except mentioning that when I got my first Teddy Bear. I no longer remember its name, but I know exactly what it looked like when I bought it. It was my birthday, and my mom took me out shopping for a present. Of course, I had already said I wanted a book. So, my mom took me in the bus to Orizaba. It was so exciting. We got off the bus and went to the bookstore. There were tons of nice books. Books with pictures, books that pop-up, books with only words. And then my mom called me from the entrance. "Ven pa' 'ca," she called. I came, and I saw it. Standing right in front of me was an all-teddy-bear-store. There came in all sizes, colors and textures. My mom gave me the opportunity to choose. It was tough. It was either my love for books, or having a prize that I had never thought of. I wanted the book with the monkeys, but I had never had a toy like the teddy bears. I checked them all out, hugging then, looking at them, and smelling them. And then, I saw it. I know it's an odd color for a teddy bear, but there it was. A white bellied red teddy bear. His eyes were blue, its nose black, and it was the fluffiest thing I had ever seen. I held on to it and said I wanted it. I hugged it with all my might and did not let go. My mom played for it, then she told me I could still get a book. I lost all interest in the monkey book, and settled for a small pop up book. I was eight. When I was in fourth grade, I met this boy called Carlos. Carlos was the son of my second grade teacher, and he was in class with me. He seemed nice, smart and funny. I started hanging out with Carlos during recess and after school. Since I was old enough to go home by myself, it was okay for me to hang out with him for a while. We would go to his house and play Nintendo after classes. It was very nice. But we did not talk a lot about many things. My fourth grade teacher had a fake finger, and he was sometimes mean. Being in an all boys school, I hardly had Interaction with girls and did not really know what a class with women was like. So, in fourth grade there was Johnathan, who was an asshole, Carlos, who was amazing, Manolo, who was fat and annoying, and Angel, who was skinny and lucky. We hung out together for quite a while. Having it that our school was one of two in the city; we obviously knew each other well. I was already pretty effeminate then and Johnathan once called me doble sexo. I knew what he meant, but I was not sure if I was one. I hung out with them a lot, playing ball, running around, and even just sat and talked, even though we didn't really have much to talk about. Since the moment I met Johnathan, I knew he was not going to have a great future, I might be mistaking, since I have not seem him in a long time, but he was kicked out of middle school for being such an ass. He was the son of my fifth grade teacher, and though she was amazing, she managed to race a little monster, a threat to society. 1836 words. A little nap. Ok, I just had a good nap and then went to breakfast. Back to typing. When I went to fifth grade I was already known as the smartest kid in school. I had a good relationship with the teachers and the principal. That's when I met Viviana. Viviana was one of the many girls in the other school. That year, they had decided that the fence that separated the two schools should be eliminated and let everyone get to know each other. I met her one day during recess. We started to get along really well and hung out more and more. She broke her leg over one weekend. I would come see her everyday after school. It was quite nice. That was the first time I was really attracted to anyone. I kept on having the same kind of relationship with her for about two more years, but the feelings were there only for about one. I was always appointed to be the spokesperson for the class. That was my introduction into politics. I also went as a participant in a statewide contest in academics. I was quite successful, and there, I met Miryam. I would encounter her a couple years later in middle school. My sixth year was pretty much the same way as fifth. It was not a big deal, except that by this time my circle of friends consisted of more guys. I seemed to fit right in.
During the time I spent in elementary school my family and I did some quite traveling, but the most significant travels were without doubt, those we made on train to Paso Del Macho where my great-grandparents lived. My great-grandpa Andres and great-grandma Lucrecia was amazing people. It used to be quite a drag to go there, since I always liked to stay home and play with Carlos, and it was until abuelita Lucrecia died that I learned to appreciate having met her. abuelita was the result of the love of a Spanish banjo player for a rich French woman. Abuelita nos cuenta que se aprendieron a amar a pesar de las barreras. She says that her mom was rich and when she fell inlove with the banjo player she was stripped away from any kind of bond she had with the family. So they fled and started a life by themselves. My great-great-grandma had never done anything but play the piano, so, when it came to cooking or cleaning she knew nothing. I still wonder how good her Spanish was, since abuelita Lucrecia spoke French as well. Anyway, the great mama would do her best, but as abuelita puts it, her hands would bleed when making tortillas, and she would still suck at making them. So, that's the story. Paso del Macho was a wonderful place. It's one of the early Spanish settlements in Vera Cruz and it's mainly a sugar cane plantation area. I learned a lot while being there. But most of my learning happened when I was in middle school. During that time, I had long talks with my tias on my way to el campo. They would tell me stories of the Nahuales and about the life in the town. It was quite the walk to the plantation, about three miles. But I walked happily there with my Tia Mary and her dogs. She told me about the one time when she was being followed by el Nahual and that she went into the field to harvest the sugar cane. So, she was there, cutting the cane, when suddenly, a huge snake came out and stopped in front of her. Then, the snake literally got up, as if it had had hind legs, and chased her. She says the snake had red eyes and was calling her name. She says she ran away and the snake did not catch up. I believe this to be truth. I also learned much about the way my family got along. We have never been really close anyway. We get together and get along perfectly fine. We love each other, but we can't be together for too long. When we used to travel through train, I loved staring out the window and see how the landscape changed gradually. I remember the smell of the paper mill really well. That awful stench. I was one of the lucky people who got to travel in train. I remember when we passed b Cordoba, the sellers would get on the train and we were always ready to eat memelitas. My house is about one or two blocks away from the railroad so it's always nice to be able to see the train pass by here in Grinnell so close to me. Anyway, those trips to Paso del Macho were amazing. We would be there and we would sleep in one of the many bedrooms in my abuelos house in pairs. The Nahual came many times. He tried to attack, as he had before, but it did not matter. My abuelo was always there to protect us. Something I will never forget is my abuelita's coffee. Made in a clay pot on the open fire, there is nothing like that.
When I went on to middle school I was pretty much with the same people. This is when I really figured out that I was not like all the other kids. I liked girls alright, but I was extremely attracted to boys. I started having issues with my self. My body image and the way I looked. I did not considered myself to be the most attractive boy. I was fat, or at least I thought so. I wanted to be like Angel, or Aldaraca, or even FerIvan. They were skinny, I was not. So, I started running track, and who knew, I ended up being one of the best ones. FerIvan, yes, FerIvan. Fernando Ivan Lopez was one of the highlights in my life. I fell in love with him very soon. But then again, he was straight at the time. It's one of those things that happen in life, when someone is not right for you for some reason or another. He was beautiful. I have always been attracted to light skinned boys, so he fit right in. He had the Jewish look alright, even though he was catholic, except the nose, which was perfect. Oh, that must have been my introduction into love for Jewish boys. He was great, but turned out to be a mistake. In middle school I also met Elizabeth Juarez and Veronica Martinez. They were really good people, and they both loved me, even though they did not love each other very much. I would go on to high school with Elizabeth, and would lose contact with Vero. Vero's dad was in the US and so he would send money for them to have a pretty nice house. My house had been remodeled while I was in sixth and seventh grade. I now, had a house that was one of the most detailed ones in the town. My dad had emigrated to the US in search of a better job, and my mom was in charge of everything. She made sure that the kitchen got fixed, the flooring on the second floor was done, and the bathrooms were perfection. My mom chose the tiles for every single room. She went to the guy who made them and after showing her all the work he did, she chose four types: a white tile with burgundy flowers for the flooring upstairs; white marble for the living room; an extra glossy wood patterned one for the dinning room, and a highly textured ivory one for the kitchen. The roof in the kitchen was fixed, and I could no longer hear the rain. The kitchen changed. It was all covered in ivory tile, the yellow fridge was changed by a huge white one, the shelves were replaced by more elaborate units covered in tiles and painted ivory inside. There was space in the walls for her to hang cazuelas that would never be used again thanks to T-Fal's cooking set. A microwave took over the kitchen, as so did the new food chopper, the food processor, the juice extractor, the coffee maker, and other appliances that seemed determined to make us vegetables by making our lives easier. My home was a good place where people would want to hang out, but I only invited my closest friends in. Veronica and Elizabeth have both been very important, but Elizabeth was more. I have come to realize that it was thanks to Vero that I became shallow and insecure. Her problems rubbed on me. Elizabeth was the cure though. When I talked to her a couple of weeks ago, she told me I had been the love of her life, and while I was attracted to her, there was always someone else, either FerIvan, or Rafa, or Isra. We spent many hours together, and I would walk her home everyday after school. Her mom loved me, and I felt like I belonged. The slope to go to her house was really steep, it was almost a 45 degree one, and it was quite the workout. Elizabeth and I were both in track, so it was cool to run up the slope. She lived in what's considered Tenango, which is just the outskirts of town. She had a heart and back disease. It was sad to see her pain or to see her with her back brace. But would I know? She is now even a mother. The rest of my middle school can be resumed in people and things I did: Angel, Manolo, Eric, Eunice, Samantha, Maestro Maldonado (whom I often wished I had had sex with), Aldaraca, and FerIvan. Well, let's say that when I had a chance to kiss Fer I didn't because I was too scared. Up to date, if someone I have a crush on even suggests kissing or is dared to, I panic and hide my face. My classmates and I were having a party at one of my friends house. We were drinking and playing. So we started playing truth or dare, and since I had been already slaughtered by saying the truth, I decided I would take the dare. They could not come up with one, and I was left on hold. Then when it was FerIvan's turn to get his dare, Eunice whispered into Angel's ear, and then he dared him to kiss me, while I was dared to kiss him back. I freaked out, and the only thing I could do when I saw him getting closer and closer to me was run away. I ran all the way back home. I never got the guts to even tell him I liked him ever again.
When my brother graduated from high school, my family and I went to the Terra Nova restaurant. I was having dinner with them, very happily, and I saw this one boy step in. he was white, brown hair, and green eyes. He looked at me, and I looked back. He went ahead to the back of the counter. Then, when I had a chance, thanks to my sister's insistency on having a bloody mary, I went to get it. I saw him there, while I waited. He made it. He looked at me and smiled. I liked him. I talked to Elizabeth about it, and she said she knew him. She introduced me to him, and we hit it off right away. We liked each other. Later I found out he was FerIvan's cousin and that his brother and I had gone to school together. He did not know, but his brother was also gay. I never told him that. We dated for about six months and then, on my birthday, he said that he was not sure of what he felt. And he made me cry. I cried so much, that I ran home and one of my aunts saw me. She later came and told me that gay people were not accepted by God. I wanted to slap her. We broke up, and I moved on.
Elizabeth introduced me to Johsafat. Josh, as I called him, was a cool guy. He was a dance teacher, and he used to work out a lot. Of course, he was gay. I had just entered high school when I met him, and it was all cool. I started tagging along with him. That was my introduction to the gay life. He took me to Dona Pelos's bar. This was some small place near the university in Orizaba. All the university boys used to go there to drink on weekend nights and try to get some ass. The hook? There were no women or older men there. So he taught me about fashion, about how to flirt, about how to drink, and how to hook up. There was I, a sixteen year old boy looking to get fucked. So I got what I wanted. I was young, slim, and cute. Guys liked me and I liked them. I remember how once I was walking with Josh out of the bar and we met some boys, so we walked with them for a little, when we got to the entrance to their place, one of them took me inside and closed the door, he pulled my pants down and pulled his down too, while there was no penetration then, he ejaculated on me. I did not really know how to feel about that. I was a slut. But why was I doing this? I don't really know. I just wanted to feel loved. And Josh seemed to care about me. We kept on going, and it was as if I had learned how to be a bitch. Actually no. I became a bitch. If there were other gay guys there, I would make sure they would get no one. I did quite a lot, and since there is not real drinking age in Mexico, I drank in many places with Josh, every time being more and more of a bitch. I eventually stopped, after meeting Isra. Isra came before Patricio, but Isra deserves his own section of my story. I met Patricio thanks to Josh. He introduced us when we went to a gay club. Patricio was not gay at the time, he just happened to be a good friend of Johsafat. So he went and I came along. I was dancing with Josh and saw that Pat was tapping his feet at the rhythm of the music even though he looked bored. I asked him to dance with me and he did. Soon, bodies were touching, hands were holding, the heat was increasing, the distance decreasing, and I looked at him, and he kissed me. We kissed. Back then, I did not stop to think about what had just happened, it just did. We kept on seeing each other. I came over to his house and stayed there. My mother had left to the US two years before to follow my dad, and though it was hurtful, it was for the benefit of all of us. I wonder what would had happened if she had not left. I guess I would have not done any of the mistakes that helped me grow. So, I had some liberty of not coming back home. I stayed with him, and he taught me his way of sex, which was different to what I knew. He had never had sex with a guy before, and when we did for the first time, there was fire. It was like that from there on. Since he lived on the city where I used to go to school to, it was easy for me to get out of school and go see him. After four months or so, he decided he would go to Monterrey to make some money and then come back and get me. I knew everything would change.
When he came back, I had changed. there could be nothing more between us. I never knew what happened to him. The last thing I heard from Josh is that his mom was getting sicker and that he had to get a job as an accountant in some company. That was when I was in LA. He crushed my heart. I remember he was choreographing a waltz for FerIvan's sister, and Josh brought alcohol and drank it with Fer and Aldaraca, and since he was the mother bitch, he managed to suck them both. Well, this was not the only occasion that this happened, and go figure, Fer turned out to be gay. I am still upset at Josh.
When I went to high school. I followed family tradition and went to Bachilleres America in Mendoza. 4661 words. 4:51 pm. I should do some homework. Back to the writing station. It is now 11pm. I have less than 12hrs to finish this. My day so far was busy. I was okay until I left my computer, then I went to make dinner, then rehearsal, which I got out of about 1 hr ago. I went to La America and spent there a whole year before anything important started happening. The good things about first year in high school were Arianna, Mitsy, and Claudia, a psychology teacher.
I remember the first day I saw Israel. I was walking with my friend Ariana when we passed by him. He was walking with his friend Cynthia and I saw his beautiful smile. I liked him ever since that moment. He was wearing the new uniform. Brown pants and ivory shirt. His black curly hair on that light caramel skin of his where his beautiful sparkling smile stood out. He was beautiful. I had him on my mind from that moment on. One day he was talking to Claudia, and I happened to pass by. I saw him crying. I could not help but worry. I waited until he had gone away and then I approached Claudia in hopes she would tell me what was wrong with him. After convincing her to tell me, she said he had just broken up with his boyfriend and he was feeling down. She suggested I talked to him. So, as soon as I had a chance, when I came across him, I just started talking to him. I am that kind of person who will randomly start talking to someone without knowing them. So I worked my way into being his friend. And I enjoyed being with him. One day, we went to his house over the weekend with my friend Elizabeth, since we all attended the same school we were pretty cool with one another. So, we were in his house, and he took me to his room while Elizabeth was in the living room. And then, in the darkness, we kissed for the first time. I still remember the warmth of his lips. How his hands touched my face and how they slowly found their way onto my waist. I melted. My soul melted. My heart gave into something bigger than existence. I felt complete. That was the day that we started dating. It all started with a kiss. We would be together most of the time in school, every single break between classes, all recess, after school. I loved to go with him to the market at night when everything was about to close. We would get out of school at 8 or 9, and we would go to the market to eat something or just look around. That was my introduction to love for folk art. I used to love everything they had there, from the market bags to the omnipresence of La Virgen de Guadalupe. I loved every moment of it. I started going to language school to learn some English. But it was just the basics of it. This was in 2000. He would come see me almost everyday before classes started. Sometimes he brought his homework to do it there. So, he would ride the bus for 20 to 30 minutes everyday in the morning and wait for me to get back from the Language Learning Center. We talked, cuddled, and kissed. Every single kiss made me whole. Made me real. I loved him. I love him. When we had sex for the first time, my eyes were opened. My mind expanded to new horizons. The blood was pumped through my body at an incredible speed, my brain cells went on and off one hundred times more efficiently. Maybe this was the first time my ADHD really showed. He was my life. We were together for about four months. Then, one day, on Christmas day, we were supposed to meet so I could give him a present. We agreed on meeting on the park near the school. I waited for two hours. He never came. I called and got no answer. When I finally got in touch with him, it was on December 30. We agreed to meet the next day in the morning. Same place, for the same reason. So I waited and waited, but he did not arrive. I cried. I cried like I had never cried. I had lost him. He never called. He did not apologize. I let him go. I had to let him go. I could not torture myself. Then, that same day, I went with Josh to a gay club for the first time. That's when I first avoided feeling bad with alcohol. When we came back to school, he did not give me a reason for his not showing up. We broke up. Perhaps one of the most stupid ideas in my life. I then met Patricio, and it was all fine. At least that's what I thought.
I started having troubles at home. I would be with Patricio most of the time, and I started to doing not so great in school. I came out. I got home one night and she was laying on the couch. I don't really remember why I had been crying that night but it had been really bad. So, there she was, and I could see she had also been crying. She sat up and turned off the TV. She then, without looking at me, asked the question that changed my life forever. I answered with a clear yes. I knew what I was doing, but the accusations being made were not true. What could I do? So I was rejected, alright. But my pride was still up.
In 1997, Oliva Anahi was born. She is one of the most amazing and treasured memories of my life. She made my life so much happier. I never had a chance to have younger siblings or to have children to play with, so she is the one to blame for making me keep the kid inside me alive forever and ever. I remember how her mom would bring her to my house for my mom to take care of. She was my mom's fourth child. She was my sister, and then she turned into my own daughter. When my mom moved to LA, that's when we started really developing a father-daughter relation. She would be brought at 7 and lfet in my room, next to me in bed. We would sleep until 9 or so, which was her usual wake up time and then I would make her breakfast. Anything she wanted. We would then watch TV for a little while, then draw or paint, or play with construction blocks, and then we would study. This happened for quite sometime. I loved her. She made everything so much more fun. Being able to have someone who called me papa was a life changing experience. I had someone to live for. It felt so good. I would take her to the park, dress her up, teach her how to paint, build the best constructions, but the best thing, I allowed her to have fun and be happy. She was what hurt the most when I moved to LA.
When I talked to my parents about moving with them, they supported my decision. They made me see that there was a lot to lose by moving with them. But there was not much to lose, except Oliva. It did not take a lot to make the arrangements for my trip. The day before I left, I went to look for Elizabeth to school. Israel and Elizabeth had both changed tracks and were now attending school during the morning. I came to look for them to say bye. That's when I realized that it had been a mistake to leave him. I loved him. I truly did. But my life was about to make a drastic change. A total revolution. I left him my number and asked him to keep in touch. I left everything behind.
When I got to LA, the first thing I did was hug my dad. I was so happy to see this man whom I had not seen in a long time. It had been 8 years since I really had had any interaction with him. He always worked away from home, always trying to provide us with the best. So, though he was not there for much part of my life, I learned to love him. When I moved I had to adjust to a new way of living. Not only was I in a different country, but there was no more marble floors, or three rooms, or a huge kitchen but there was no real market or a place where I could walk safely at night. I had to live in an apartment. Live extremely close to my parents. Learn to share space. I got used to it pretty fast. I enrolled in school and was put into an intensive English immersion program. I picked up the language pretty fast and moved on to regular high school the following semester. Describing my life during the last couple of years would take more than 24 hours, so I will just go over the main events.
Six months later after I had moved to LA, Isra called and said he still loved me.
I was in my first play as the Candy man in a stadium. It was also my first lead role.
I joined the performing arts academy where I did theatre, singing, and dance.
I was in a Funny thing Happened on the Way to the Forum playing Hysterium.
I got the Rochester's young leaders award.
I met amazing people like KT and my best friend Perla.
I was nominated for the Posse scholarship.
I became a posse scholar for Grinnell College.
I had a couple jobs.
I loved my parents even more everyday.
I came to Grinnell with the hopes of finding who I truly was. I discovered so much about me. I noticed that even tough I really want to have a long term relationship, I can't do it. There are not many people willing to do it. I fell in love with my friend, but he is straight. We all commit similar mistakes now and then. Anyway, I have learned how to cope with life. I changed my major from theatre to art because I notice the restrictions of theatre and the immense possibilities of art. I found a couple of people who find me sexy, and they make me happy. I finally stopped wanted to have sex with half of the people I liked. During my first winter break, I was introduced into the SKA world by KT. She is amazing, and I love her. She is now a very good friend of Perla, and that is just one of the most amazing things. I am so happy everything is going pretty well. I am learning how to be happy one day at a time. I have discovered my abilities as a dancer, and am very proud of myself. I can't wait to see where life takes me. Today was a day full of discoveries, and though I know this is not a complete autobiography, I would like to keep some of my own story for myself.
Monday, March 13, 2006.2:59am.
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