06/13/25

    When I first started writing, writing seriously, I did so because I thought I was forgetting. Forgetting my childhood, forgetting important memories. Forgetting everything about myself. I felt like I only recalled the bad things. But I knew there were so many things that were good—good things, bad things, funny things, and sad things. Things that made me who I am. When I write I remember. Tomorrow I turn 30. I wanted to write down what I’ve remembered:

    I remember daycare. I remember peeing myself in my favorite dress on the sidewalk in the playground because the caretaker wouldn’t let me go inside. I remember the nursery rhyme characters on the outside of the building. I remember one worker who later became a cashier at the Safeway by our house. I remember nap time and never napping.

    I remember kindergarten. Frosted animal crackers, the puppets on sticks we’d use to point at the calendar. The boy who gave me my first valentine's gift. How I cried on the first day and my parents swore they could hear me from the house.

    I remember the WASL and how we’d put up folders to hide our tests. I remember the ticking sounds of the wall clocks on those days. I remember buying shiny Valentine’s Day cards that came in cardboard boxes. I remember watching Cyberchase on rainy days. I remember the smell of number 2 pencils and the hand crank sharpeners. I remember buying Lisa Frank folders, new backpacks, hand soaps, and tissues. I remember my gym teacher who told me I was good at sports and only ever called me Butler. I remember winning a sportsmanship award. I remember the Sock Hops and the felt poodle-skirt my mother made with fabric from JoAnn’s. I remember getting detention and being written up. I remember the bagged milk and the times I didn’t have lunch money. I remember the fun I had in the 6th grade.

    I remember Halloween and how we’d decorated our large porch, more elaborate every year, until we didn’t. I remember competing with the neighbor on the corner who had more money and a bigger house for the best decorations. I remember a giant pumpkin we bought one year being stolen. I remember buying liters of soda to win in the ring toss at the school carnival. I remember the hardware store that would have a Halloween party. I remember the wind and the falling leaves.

    I remember the summers biking through the neighborhood, stopping at that hardware store for candy. I remember walking through alleyways and down to the river. I remember how cold the river water was. I remember the small gas station that never sold gas but had all the best snacks. I remember eating countless Otterpops, the pink ones were the best. I remember being in the mall all day. I remember the arcade in the basement. I remember when they filled it with concrete. I remember the summer we took a roadtrip all the way across the country.

    I remember the snow. I remember Christmas shopping when it was dark out at target and Best Buy and the mall. I remember 25 days of Christmas on ABC family. I remember how the mountain of gifts slowly turned into one or two as we got older. I remember sledding. I remember the scars that my father and I have from going off a jump. I remember A losing her cell phone in the snow. I remember building snow forts. I remember hot cocoa and the smell of our heater coming through the vents. I remember having to brush snow clumps out of our dogs fur.

    I remember our pets. The Shih Tzu we named Jet Lee. The Terrior I got for my birthday. The Shiba Inu who only loved my mom but I walked her everyday. The hamster we named Dede. The orange cat that would cuddle and had a sweet meow. The black cat that could only be touched for three seconds but still loved attention. I remember when Jet passed. I remember when they all did—slowly then it felt like all at once. I remember not being there. 

    I remember the Diner. How it smelt like pancakes and onion skins and Stromboli even though I didn’t know what that was. I remember the red leather bar stools that did a half spin and the large windows. I remember sleeping in the back prep room during summers when my mom would take me to work. I remember the huge walk-in door. I remember the pancakes my mother would make in the shape of characters and how she used chocolate chips for eyes. I remember manning the drive-through and making milkshakes. I remember oldies playing and when we started playing the college radio station instead. I remember hearing Young Folks and Amy Winehouse and Hey There Delilah. I remember when we lost it.

    I remember cars. My dad's M3 and the VW Golf and the Jeep Wrangler. I remember the car shows he’d take us to and the VW club drives we go on. I remember listening to The Prodigy in his car. My mom’s Cabrio that’d we’d drive to Coeur d'Alene with the top down. I remember the Maroon 5 CD she’d play and the She Wants Revenge CD we switched to. The cool old Landrover with the jump seats. I remember when it was repoed. I remember the shitty Chrysler that came after it. I remember the BMW we took the roadtrip in. I remember the car accident that totaled it. I remember the old Beetle that I learned how to drive stick in. I remember how loud it was and always smelt like gasoline. We’d take drives around town as a family in it. I remember my first car, the pale blue Volvo. It was a manual and I sold it after stalling on the road. I remember the Infinity. I remember when I crashed it.

    I remember clothes. A tube top set from the Limited too. Shoes from Payless, clothes from ROSS. Second hand Hollister and Abercrombie. New Abercrombie and Hollister. The first designer item I ever bought. My mother’s screen printed tee shirts and shorts for the Diner. The dresses she’d wear when her and dad would have a night out. Her collection of heels and sandals. My dad’s Charlie Brown shirt. How I never saw him in a tie. My sister's hoodies and sneakers.

    I remember when I was 13 and how my sister and I played Halo 3 on Xbox live for a whole year. I remember the friends we made. I remember how good I was. I remember how fun it was to play together. I remember crying to get into a movie my sister was seeing with friends. I remember standing up to people who were mean to her. I remember being the one who was mean. I remember when we had bunk beds and when we got separate rooms.

    I remember New Orleans. How I hated flying there. How I hated the heat. I remember buying rings and things from the French Market. I remember how it would rain and thunderstorm at the same time everyday. I remember my grandparents' house across Lake Pontchartrain. How scared I was to cross the bridge. I remember petit fours and King Cake and Mcdonald’s and the liters of coke my grandma would drink and the candy she’d have in her pantry. How the TV would always be on and how little green frogs would cover the porch at night. I remember the trip in the 4th grade to see my grandpa in the hospital. I remember the hurricane that kept us locked down in his room. I remember the gift shop and the cafeteria. I remember when he passed. I remember the heat and the humidity and the way it smells.

    I remember Orlando. How I hated flying there. How hot it was. I remember Disneyland and Universal. I remember the timeshare with the pool my dad taught me how to swim in. I remember SeaWorld and the water ride that made me cry. I remember the smell of my grandparents' house. I remember being served fruit. I remember Thanksgiving where we ate Filipino food. I remember never being able to fully connect with them.

    And I remember A and M and their brother and older sister. I remember their mom and dad, how they were basically my parents too. I remember their two dogs and two cats. Their pink and brown house one house away from mine. The back porch with bamboo shades. I remember getting high and dancing with A and her dad to Chan Chan. I remember the wood paneled basement room. I remember wondering why a path had never worn into our neighbors lawn after years of cutting through it to get to each others houses. I remember all the movies we watched and the video games we played. I remember when A had her hair ripped out by the rope swing attached to the chestnut tree in their yard. I remember climbing that tree and being too scared to come down. I remember fall and winter and spring and summer spent together. When we took the bus for the first time. When we both started driving. The separate friend groups and different styles. Going to different high schools. I remember when they moved away.

    I remember my favorite high school teacher. I remember skipping class. I remember napping in the school theaters green room during third period and laying out in the field in full view of the school. I remember cheating on tests. I remember reading every book assigned to us in English class. I remember crying on stage during drama class. I remember nearly failing. I remember football games and running around downtown at night. I remember the summer A and I spent with our only friend that could drive, driving around in her car for hours. I remember Call Me Maybe. I remember wearing a gold sequined dress to prom. I remember A’s mom doing my hair. I remember not going out but going back to A’s house in my dress and watching movies. I remember graduation.

    I remember the first date I went on and my first kiss. I remember the first boy that ever gave me his sweater because I was cold. I remember having crushes and being infatuated. I remember obsessing and being crazy. I remember never having the courage to be the initiator. I remember being so close to having someone I wanted and blowing it. I remember ghosting and being ghosted. I remember falling in love. 

    I remember fights. With parents and friends and lovers. And never saying sorry when it mattered. And making up the best way I could. I remember never seeing friends again. I remember forgetting their names and faces. I remember feeling despair and anger and wanting to die. I remember feeling so sad I couldn’t get up and crying for no reason. I remember feeling euphoria and pleasure and laughing so hard I would cry and my stomach would hurt. I remember feeling at peace. I remember realizing I’ve grown.

    I remember my birthdays. I remember bouncy castles and bouncy obstacle courses. I remember it always raining when we had plans to do something outdoors. I remember the piñatas and the cakes my parents would bake. I remember seeing Surf’s Up in theaters for my 12th birthday. I remember getting my license on my 18th birthday. I remember spending my 21st birthday with only one person. I remember how after awhile I felt sad celebrating birthdays.