At the new millennium’s debut, I’ll have turned twenty.
TWO-ZERO: I can hardly believe it.
On September 1^st of 1979 I emerged from the void wet and wailing,
only to discover two decades later that life, reality if you will, doesn’t always live up to its publicity.

Then again, I’m only a first draft. Now accepting applications for revisionist editor?

Evading the perils of quarter-life-crisis, I’ve been inclined as of late to assess "my existence" thus far.
After accounting for both thumbs-up and thumbs-down, I award myself three-and-a-half stars.

Ever since Mrs. Hoagey’s second grade class where I first learned how to write in cursive, I’ve been preoccupied with the task of re-inventing the self. It started out with ballet for six months, age 8, until I realized gymnastics at TUMBLEBEES was more my glass of milk, which hence I pursued for two years. (Dude, kicked tush in vault!)

Tired of cartwheels, leotards, and uneven bars, I soon sold out to music instruction --- instrument of choice, le piano. Under the guidance of Mr. MacLaren, my septuagenarian mentor who on occasion would fall asleep during my weekly hour lessons, I honed my talent and grew proficient on the ivory keys. Prematurely retiring at the close of Junior year, I performed Chopin fluidly, fit Debussy into my repertoire, and played a killer Chopsticks, blindfolded.

Somewhere between the start of middle school and sophomore year of high school, I indulged my interest in volleyball, in cheerleading, and in track, respectively. But when my lungs nearly exploded from O2 deficiency at a grueling sprinting-practice one spicy afternoon, I shortly exchanged my athletic letter for letters ascribed to academia, leadership, and service.

So hm, at the expense of sanity and sleep, I geronimo-ed into St. Thomas Aquinas H.S.'s all-consuming realm of extracurrics and resurfaced at senior year’s end enriched and empowered--though too, ever more disenchanted with the System and its failings. Journalism, environ-activism, honor societies, language clubs, soup-kitchens, literary magazines, and their counterparts, I staffed them all.

Aside from school, I grew most during the summers of my youth.

When I was ten, my fam and I toured Europe with this religiously-affiliated travel company that’s now since folded called Modern Pilgrimages. Besides visiting every cathedral and monastery known to Euro-Slavic man, I recall taking the Sound of Music Tour in Salzburg, Austria, which then, rocked my universe.

Ten years later my sister Lourdes and I, again, traveled abroad --- only this time, with halos tilted aslant a-ways .

The summer after sophomore year marked a turning point in my ascent towards self-realization when I elected to take an enrichment course absorbed in existential thought entitled: "Getting to Know You: A Literary Exploration of the Journey of Self-Invention" at Georgetown.

Consequently, I attended yet another intellectually stimulating summer program the year after at Emory’s Youth Theology Institute in Atlanta. At YTI, I encountered deeper spirituality and established profound friendships.

Presently, I’m a Boston College English major intending to minor in fine-arts.
(Yes mom, Fine Arts.) Remember me in your wills, kind souls.