Somebody That I Used To Know

August 18th 2014

Story originally written and experienced: May 11th 2010

“Greetings, Earthling.”

He said.

And the crowd went wild.


Simmer down…

“That’s what she told me, I swear!” He projected >>> into the mic. “The first time I met her, she came up to me and said those two words.”

He was talking about my sister.

Because he was giving her an award.

An award for accomplishing great things.

And I was there to see it.

silvia nhs 2

“Greetings, Earthling.”

She was a top student you see, and an honorable member of the “National Honor Society” which would look quite sharp and extra pristine on her college applications.


When I saw her.

En route to collect her accomplishments from one side of the stage >>>> to the next.

I couldn’t help but remember the days when she was just 3 years old. And she was a hypochondriac. And she would sCaMpEr from

one side of the lawn  >>>> to the other

In a striped onesie, floral slip ons, a hair beret and a face painted in anti-itch cream she found in the cabinets whilst double-fisting bottles of cold medicine and screaming “Just just just in case!!!”

The cutest psycho you'll ever see.

The cutest psycho you’ll ever see.

And I thought about it again after the ceremony when the crowd congregated in the cafeteria for complimentary cake and glasses of juice too.

Post well-balanced meal for sure.

Post cake for dinner.

And the reason Silvia and I didn’t really leave the buffet table that night was because.

Well because.

Snacking was something we were always inherently excellent at.

Killin it.

Killin it.


…And also this.

Killin it.

Still killin it.


And these triggered flashbacks kept continuing until I got home. And I wanted a remedy. So I put on pajamas that came in the form of super soft Christmas pants and an oversized tee. And then I went










And walked directly towards this particular cabinet that sits to the

bottom right

of my mantle.

And made a






Of home videos that I intended to watch.

And I did.

Still excellent at snacking.

In harmony with excellent snacking, of course.

And they made me feel strange. But also kind of great. Watching a myriad of moments that were once incredibly normal—but were now so far out of memory and                    reach.

And I guess it hit me a little more anytime my father, aunt, cousins or grandpa would

Appear on the screen.

Because they’re no longer around. And never would be again.

I didn’t like that they had gone away.

How they had gone away.

Or how everything changed when they did.


It was weird that I felt okay. And reacted with a perfect duet of sadness and content when I rewitnessed moments where they did in fact—exist.

And then I saw my mom.

Different hair cut. Same smile. With different worries and joys too.

No damns given.

No damns given.

And then segments of rogue birthday parties where my classmates temporarily doubled as my very best friends.

Meet my main bitch, Johnny Vo. (to the right)

Meet my main bitch, Johnny Vo. (to the right to the right)

And the more I watched I kind of became entranced with this feeling of mixing the old mindset with the new. So I reached in the same cabinet, and found photos upon photos upon photos upon more.

Filled with familiar faces ones and forgotten ones.

Old friends. And continued ones.

Vintage lovers. And new ones.

Bad hair cuts. And great ones.

Past places. And current graces.

 And with every revisited moment and memory encapsulated with paused people in photographs—I realized that I didn’t just know these people.

But I knew them again.

I knew my sister as a baby who ate ketchup for breakfast, brunch and dinner. And then I knew her again as a successful adult.

I knew my mother as a striving partner of two…who I eventually became acquainted with as a superstar single who very confidently thrived alone.

I knew my best friends since childhood who used to eat grass with me on the playground. Which transitioned into sushi in grocery store parking lots in high school. And then steak dinners in the city to celebrate new jobs that made us proud.

I knew previous romances who were once incredibly normal, relevant, consistent and around. And one day they were entirely not. Originating as an intensely known confidant and transitioning into a patchwork blanket of memories that I can only attempt to refabricate in my mind.

And then I knew myself.

Mildly as a baby.

Laughing at your jokes since 90's.

Laughing at your jokes since the 1989.

Then again whenst I formed a general consciousness and geared up for the first day of school.

Here I come bitches.

Here I come bitches.


Rediscovered another time in high school.

Maturing nicely...

Shout out to the pink razor.


And of course in college too.


Getting my priorities straight.


And then there I was. Sitting where I was sitting. Watching what I was watching. And trying to imagine who I was. In that moment. Right there.

And I wasn’t able to do it.

Not because I was lost. In turmoil. Confused. Or even wrong.

But more so because…I was a work in progress. Always have been and always will. And I was okay with that. Because when I thought about

Where we all currently are.

And where we had been.

I realized it was working.

Being patient with ourselves—was working. Making mistakes—was working. Loving and losing—was working. Loving and keeping—was working.

And that moment made me feel strange. But also kind of great. Thinking about a myriad of moments that were once incredibly normal—but were now so far out of memory and                    reach.

Which is exactly how they should be. Because I’ve come along away. And you have too.

And the person that you used to know.

And the person you are now.

Are quite different.

And well.

That’s just fantastic.