One afternoon after church I was talking to my friend Destiny. We were fooling around on the computer when the lights went out. It was a blackout. We sat there in silence while her grandpa went to look at the circuit breaker. We figured this would be a nice time to catch up since we never see each other.
‘‘Dee, how did get your name?’’
I looked at her utterly confused, ‘‘Haven’t I told you already?’’
‘‘No! Or else I wouldn’t be asking. Can you tell me, please?’’ she asked.
‘‘Fine,’’ I said annoyed.
‘‘I have never liked my name. I find it as another word for mistake. When people say my name, or at least attempt to say it correctly, it is said as Darius, Denise, Darsee, or Doris. They say it but don’t even try to remember so at that point my name becomes ‘‘girl’’. Others struggle to say my name but they say it carefully, trying not to stutter on the last few letters of my name. When my parents tell me the story of how they chose my name they make it sound like if they took centuries picking it out. But I don’t believe them. I wonder if they’re telling me the truth or are they lying just to make me feel better about my name. I know my parents love me, they tell me everyday, and I’m their daughter so I know they would help me through any rough times in my life. I know I can be a pain in their butts sometimes but even that doesn’t make them love me any less
I was born in winter, December 30, 1996 at 9a.m. All this happened in the Granada Hills Hospital. My mom said her boss (Sandy) walked into the room while my mom was holding me. Sandy had asked my parents if they had a name for me. They looked at each other in silence and said no. So they asked the nurse for a book of names, a few minutes later she brought back a thick book filled with names that parents choose for their new born babies. My parents looked through the entire book, and marked the paged that were possible names for their baby girl.
My dad wanted something that meant joy or happiness. My mom wanted something unique, something that could describe the way she felt about the baby girl wrapped in her arms. Out of this, they found the name Darise, it meant brilliant, so they named me Darise Adela Rodriguez, Adela after my mom. That book was filled with names, girl and boy names, which just makes me wonder and these thoughts run through my head like the winds of the fall. I wonder am I pronouncing my name right? Is my name even a girl name? Am I brilliant? Can I live up to the standards that come with my name? Is my name ever going to be able to represent who I really am? These questions can never seem to be answered but they do seem like questions that I have to figure out on my own.
Well, my name will never be something that I’m proud of , but I’m not saying that I hate it. I wouldn’t go to have my name legally changed because obviously my name means a lot to my parents. It is unique but at times I feel like I can’t take my name being mispronounced anymore. Some people even say it as if I’m purposely running a razor blade along the side of their mouth, yet others seem
to have no problem at all. Some people even have nicknames for me because my name is frustrated to those people who aren’t used to saying a complicated name like mine. Even my mom calls me Dee and sometimes my dad calls me Dwee. In elementary school some kids called me Dr.Dee, others called me Big Dee, some kids even called me DeeDee. Compared to that, I rather have people mispronounce my name than to be stuck with those terrible nicknames again. It’s just the ring of my name being said is not necessarily my favorite, but when I really think about it, I guess Darise can be a pretty name after all.’’
‘‘Aww, Dee that is so cute,’’ she said with a grin.
I looked at her confused, ‘‘What?! It is not cute but it’s better than the story of the time I learned how to swim.’’
‘‘Oh, tell me that story!’’ she said eagerly.
‘‘Okay but don’t judge me about it,’’ I said nervously
‘‘I won’t. I promise.’’
I smiled and began my story,
‘‘I used to tell people that I didn’t know how to swim and their reaction would always be very similar. It would be a shocked expression, their eyes clear as day and their mouths wider than the Grand Canyon. But I don’t know what they were more surprised at. The fact that I didn’t know how to swim or that I was ten years old and didn’t know how to swim. At the same time I thought it was common to not know how to swim because my aunt didn’t know how, about three of my cousins didn’t know, and my brother only knew how to swim on his back. I knew my dad could swim but he was always so busy that he didn’t have the time to teach me. I wondered if I could ever learn or if I would always be scared of going into the water because of my fear of drowning. People even tried to teach me but I never trusted anyone so deeply that I would let them teach me.
My friend Lily invited me to a pool party; Lily was my best friend so I couldn’t say no to her. I knew it was a pool party, so it’s basically required to know how to swim, but I wasn’t going to let that keep me from going to my best friend’s birthday pool party. Then, when I actually got there, I realized how pathetic it is to be ten years old and not be able to swim. While everyone was in the deep end having a blast with all the cool looking pool toys, I was in the shallow end. I wasn’t even in the entire shallow end; I was sitting on the top step where the kids would get in from. I felt like an outsider, everyone was showing each other all the cool and fun tricks that they could do under the water. At that point I knew that I had to do something to learn how to swim or else I knew that I would have that feeling that I hated for the rest of my life. Not being able to swim that day made me feel so abnormal that I was close to calling myself an alien.
At that point I told my mom that I was eager to get swimming lessons, so a few days later I was headed to my first swimming class. After about two swimming lessons I realized that I was wasting my time. All that they were having us do was jump into the water and in each lesson they made us jump from a farther distance. They weren’t teaching us how to kick, paddle, or how to move our arms. They weren’t even teaching us how to float. Each lesson lasted about 20 minutes and I took 3 lessons, so that was about an hour of my life just jumping into the water and being taught how to prevent cramps. Then I just gave up and asked my mom to teach me, so she did.
She started with the basics: learning how to kick and paddle, but when she taught me how to get comfortable with the water, then I knew for sure that I would eventually learn how to swim. She held me with both her hands: one on my chest, one on my stomach. She guided me as I skimmed the water. I slowly moved my arms and my legs, placed my face in the water but when she let go I got scared and hopped up on my feet in less than a second. She showed me how to float one more time. She looked like she really knew what she was doing. So we got in the same position that we were in before. I started to move my arms and legs slowly and then picked up speed as I got more comfortable with the water. I finally trusted myself, and before I knew it she let go and I was swimming; it was so easy that I couldn’t believe I waited this long to finally learn. It felt good. As the water rushed across my face I realized I was moving without my mom’s help. Just knowing how to swim made me feel successful. Only later did my mom tell me that she was learning how to swim by not doing what I was doing wrong like if I was her decoy. But I was too excited to care. Now all I know is that I finally know how to swim now I have to learn how to ride a bike.’’
‘‘You don’t know how to ride a bike?!’’ she asked shocked.
‘‘Nope.’’
Her face lightened up with joy as she said ‘‘Oh my gosh I’m so gonna teach you! But first we have to go to the mall dude!’’
I smiled and said, ‘‘Oh my gosh dude my place to be when I’m bored is definitely the mall. I don’t know one teenage girl that doesn’t love to be at the mall with their friends. Even guys go with their friends. As soon as you walk through the doors the smell of perfume, new clothes, and food strikes your face. This irresistible/alluring smell pulls you in deeper letting you explore every part. The music above makes you want to sing along but as you walk, eventually the music disappears. Walking into the first store is like a opening a present on Christmas morning. You never know what new things you’re going to get and your excited to know what’s new in stock. I don’t go to the mall because I’m looking for something specific, I go to look for something that either looks good on me or just to have a good time. While others consider shopping a hassle, I never do. I think its fun and if I go that doesn’t mean that I’m going to spend money. Sometimes just walking around can be entertaining.
People always ask me why I’m so crazy about the mall but honestly I like going because I feel like I’m always stuck at home and the mall is one place that I know I’m always welcome in. I don’t always go to buy something. I just like being there because I find it as a maze that I never get tired of. Seeing everything that a person can own fascinates me for some reason, especially when I walk into one of my favorite stores. The sweet smell of Cinnabon warms my heart, and the taste of the cinnamon buns seem too good to be true. Just thinking about the sweet cinnamon and the creamy icing waters my mouth. Hot Topic is another one of my favorite stores in the mall, but it scares all my friends. One time my friend Diana was actually so scared by that store that she ran out of it before we even got to the back. The dark image it has shows off the depth of my personality once you get past the niceness that is on the outer layer of my personality. I love Hot Topic but no store compares to my all time favorite store in the world, Sidecca. To me Sidecca is like teenage heaven. When I look at it, I see it sitting on a rainbow. They have such a wide selection jewelry, clothes, shoes, belts, purses, and some things that are impossible to explain. They even have a few things for boys.
What I like the most about the mall is that I have some really great memories there. Some with friends, some with my family. I remember going with my friend Krystianne to the Northridge Mall to go shopping for my birthday present. That day we went to almost every store in the mall just to see what they sell. We had some laughs that day and I will never forget it. Once I went to the mall with my cousins including my cousin’s baby who I wanted to teach hide and seek to. We were in JCPenny and I was chasing her all around and put my hands on my eyes and she did the same. Before I knew it she was playing her first game of hide and seek. What I like about the mall is that you don’t have to go there to buy things. Sometimes I like going just to sit by the fountain while everyone else goes shopping, it can be relaxing. My reasons for going to the mall are not always to go shopping, because they can be anything I want them to be.’’
She laughed and said ‘‘I know right! Uh I’m bored. Can I see your phone?’’
‘‘Sure,’’ I said as I handed her my phone.
She looked at my wallpaper for a short period of time and asked ‘‘When was this?’’
I look at it myself and smiled, ‘‘I remember this day really well because it was on the day of my 13th birthday. I may have been smiling in this picture but two days before this picture was taken, I was miserable. I was in Cancun, Mexico two days before which is kind of funny to me because I’m Salvadorian. I know Cancun is supposed to be a place to have a good time but I thought my time there could have gone much better which is why I didn’t like being there very much. It was December 28, 2009 and I was so excited because the beginning of my future teenage years were just two days away. On the 28th we were supposed to be going home but then my parents decided to stay just one more day. Knowing my family I knew they were going to throw me a birthday party so I was looking forward to that. But if we stayed one more day then I knew we wouldn’t make it to my own party. They told me we would make it but then I realized that just the plane ride can take a day so that point my excitement just died.
I had invited a few of my cousins from my mom’s side and about two of my uncles from my dad’s side. I just wanted a small party and I had only invited one of my friends. But the longer we took in the airport, the more depressed I was becoming. I really didn’t want to spend the first few hours of my birthday in mid-air but I had no choice. Finally after hours spent at both the Mexican airport and L.A.X., we were home. It was December 30, 2009 or in other words it was my birthday, so we rushed off to get everything ready for the party. Four hours later the one friend I invited (Krystianne) came to my room with a huge smile on her face. Her face was practically glowing; she stepped closer and attacked me with a huge bear hug. She handed me my present but I hesitated to open it. But then I looked at her face and I was able to read her expression like a book; it looked eager for me to open the present. So carefully I pulled out the tissue paper and the first thing I saw was a black bag with a pink peace sign that had a zebra print on it. Not only that but inside the bag was a ring with a diamond embezzled heart and black pearl earrings. These little gifts were actually my only presents on that birthday but to me they were the greatest presents I had ever received. That is when my dad came into my room and took this picture.
Only about 20 people were at my party not a lot but I was happy. It was one day that I will never forget. I got frosting put on my cheeks, I got to light out up my own candles, and my cousins brought me extra balloons. At the end of the night our house was practically infested with blue, purple, and white balloons. I got to blow out my candles three times because my dad kept missing the shot. Krystianne and I took many more pictures but this was our favorite. I had a better time than I originally expected to have because I have bad memories with parties to I have never really liked them. But this party was just nonstop laughs. Night rolled around but no one seemed to be going home. Everyone was having too much fun that it seemed like if they didn’t want to leave. Everyone was there for me so I didn’t care if they never went home. Krystianne slept over my house on that night. We stayed up until about two in the morning and even when we were basically exhausted, somehow the giggles and the conversations continued. I hope to never forget that birthday. It was too good to forget.’’
‘‘Well, nice to know I was invited!’’ she said sarcastically.
I grunted and rolled my eyes at her, ‘‘I did invite you Destiny, but you just didn’t come!’’
‘‘Oh sorry. Wait are you talking about that girl that made you that poster that you have in your room?’’ she asked.
“Yeah it’s basically a paper with my initials and a few words on it that practically mean the world to me. I didn’t know why I cared so much about this piece of paper. Then I realized that she chose to make the poster to tell me something. About a week before we had been talking and she asked me why we weren’t best friends. I thought about my answer and I wanted to tell her that I didn’t trust her when I knew that I did. I left her question unanswered because I was scared of her response, but I wasn’t able to avoid the question forever. Three days later we were having the same conversation and again I didn’t have an answer. So I thought about it and I realized that I didn’t like having best friends because I was afraid of being forgotten. Some of my closets friends in elementary had all become memories in my head and soon they would be completely forgotten. All I remembered were good memories but they were slowly being erased from my mind. So that made me think that all my old friends had forgotten about me and I didn’t like that feeling.
So now she knew my secret; she knew that I had a fear of being forgotten. To reassure me that she wouldn’t forget me, she made me the poster. With colored paper she out lined a capital “D”, cut it out and pasted it on the top left corner. She spelled out my name and each letter had a corresponding word about me. She had written Krystianne and Darise equals best friends forever. Somewhere twisted with all the words she had written on the poster she wrote something that made me see that she was a true friend. This made me realize that when I talked to her she listened. Everything I said to her didn’t just go in one ear and come out of the other; she paid attention to me. She wrote in bold letters “I will never forget you”. Those little words made me smile and I know they seem like nonsense but those words told me that I could trust Krystianne.
Throughout the seventh grade I kept that poster in my locker. Everyone would see it and say that it was silly to have it in there but it was too special to me to take it down. Krystianne would laugh when she saw it because she couldn’t understand why it was so special to me. She couldn’t believe that I had kept the poster even with the folded edges, the faded ink, and the “D” that was starting to peel. Now the poster is on the cover of my binder. I hadn’t told Krystianne I had it there so when she saw she it started laughing like a maniac. She couldn’t believe I still had it even after it was starting to look like trash. When she made the poster she meant to me tell that I could trust her and the reason I kept the poster was because the poster reminded me that I had a trustworthy friend. I explained that to her and she smiled and she said she would make me a new one but no poster could ever replace the original. The poster to me is like a reminder to hang on to this one friend because the last thing I wanted was for her to become an old memory like my old friends. This poster tells me that I have the chance to be friends with her until the day we die which is exactly what I hope for.’’
I finished my story and looked at her. That’s about the time the lights came back on and I said, “You too Destiny I hope I never lose you guys.’’
She smiled and said “Aww thanks Dee!’’
No comments:
Post a Comment