When I was a junior in high school, I volunteered with my church for the Special Olympics. Basically, I was assigned a few contestants and I had to make sure that they got to their events on time. I brought one of my contestants to sign in for his event. The check-in lady took his name and told him where to go before turning to me and looking at me expectantly. When I didn’t say anything, she asked, “Honey, what event are you racing in? Do you know where you’re supposed to be? I can get somebody to escort you.” Needless to say, it was awkward explaining to her that I was, in fact, a volunteer, not a contestant. My family has never let me forget it. I’m pretty sure the whole Tri-State area has heard this story by now.
Two years ago, my brother was studying abroad in Germany. Naturally, we told him to meet us in France. My dad has this condition where he thinks that he can speak any native language of wherever we are fluently. But actually, he can’t. So when we were in France, we spent a lot of time in the countryside where nobody could speak English. Watching my dad speak French so confidently (and so, so incorrectly) was both amusing, and a little mortifying. However, we survived the trip (all thanks to my dad and his extensive knowledge of the French language, I’m sure).
It’s hard for me to pinpoint why I’m so interested in fashion, because I guess it’s just something that I’ve always followed. I like how wearing the right clothes can make you feel more confident, and how what you wear tells people who you are, without you even having to say anything. It’s creative, it’s always changing, and it’s always recycling. Just because something goes out of style doesn’t mean that it stays out of style, and I like that concept. I want to be the next Anna Wintour and control the entire fashion industry with an iron fist. Or maybe be a buyer for a department store or something.
Whenever I think of New York, a very specific memory always comes to mind. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve been there, I always think straight to the time that I was (around) 14, sitting outside an Italian restaurant. We were eating lunch, watching the city stroll past us. There were so many weird people. There wasn’t even a pattern to the weirdness. Everyone was really, really weird, in really, really different ways. I remember it because everybody was so unapologetic about who they were. They were perfectly comfortable to wear whatever they wanted to wear and act however they wanted to act. Everybody is so weird in New York that there’s not really room to judge anyone else.
“Today I Ran Into a Branch and Thought of You.” Sorry, it’s a phrase instead of one word. Not only have I been texted this exact phrase twice, by two different people, but I think that it captures my awkward tendencies (such as getting caught in branches, and having my belt loop catch on door handles) pretty well. People should at least remember me accurately.
I’m really good at organizing things. It’s useless because I never organize anything.
Probably Lil Wayne. Can’t you see it?