Hidden Nightmares
By Aidan Guilfoyle You know some days when you wake up and you know it's going to be a good day, this was not one of them in fact it was the opposite. It was pain it was misery it was sorrow it was hate and disappointment. Don't take me wrong I had a lot of good days in fact about half of that year was awesome just nothing more. I had good weeks and I had horrific ones these weeks were not just bad it was misery, it was pain, and it was hopeless. I never knew anything was wrong until it hit me like a ton of bricks square in the gut, making me crumble to the floor in pain. I thought my life was completely normal and that all of my friends were just jealous that I had a mom how appreciated herself so much and knew what a horrible child I was and let me live in her home anyway. I thought they must be so jealous when saying your mom's kind of crazy or that her boyfriend was a jerk, but who were they to judge my family. Do your parents not ground you because they did not like your tone when you said good morning five years ago, or yell at you because if it wasn't for you they would be a millionaire. Or maybe they just claim not to ever drink as they are trying to walk in a straight line with all of their might to impress the very nice police officer. But what's a little drinking anyway it's not like she was going to lose any sleep over it in fact it helps her sleep threw the morning… And Christmas. Easter. My birthday. First day of school even when she is are ride. But hey who needs school I should have never passed kindergarten any way. What's the point of her taking me to a place where I will never succeed because even thow I lucked out in kindergarten I will never be smart I will always have the reading level of a second grader and I will never remember to do my homework half the time or for that fact never remember anything during those past seven days. But after years of misery it's all over finally over. July 24 the real Independence day those old textbooks got it wrong we should be celebrating my first ever trip to CPS. You may think well that kind of stinks but hey it was the best Birthday present ever. Yep that's wright you heard my I had to pour salt over very very fresh wounds on my Birthday. But the day did not start of all bad we went to this nice restaurant called Champagne. I had an amazing crape and a free piece of cake(it later melted in my car while waiting for CPS to see us.) You may think it's crazy but that day was the best in my life no matter how weird and crazy and upsetting I mean hey I got a piece of cake what could be better. I mean really It was an awesome day. But the real thing to remember out of all of that madness was coming home to a place where I have never loved so much to a friend threw it all threw all of the crazy and the madness the person who understood and was their for all of my life in the circus the person who came to my house dragged me out and bought me a nutella popsicle a cool frozen treat to numb the pain in my heart. The person who saw I was upset and took me away from the sorrow and grief and anger to a place we have gone for three years every other week the place where I will never again wish I was there instead of locked away in the tower of incense and ants with just a hint of beer cans scattered across the house. To a so called home with the molded mcdonald's burger in the corner the dog pee and litterbox zone known as my bed. On the floor, With the dog. But hey at least we had a dog and two cats and a couple of lizards the cat literally dragged in because guess what even the cats did not won to eat the food their. But seriously i'm pretty sure you could see the smell coming out of the food. But I never could have gotten thru it all if it wasn't for the hope of walking down to that school to sit at a table and eat all of the wonderful food drink a sweet savory strawberry banana smoothie and eat a fresh popsicle have the cold sensation melt on my mouth in pure happiness. To smell the sweet pair and try new things even though most were not my cup of tea it was still an amazing experience to look forward to twice a month to give me enough time to save up all of my alonice and by a pack of red pepper beef jerky or a pack of hummus and pita bread to walk back home and scarf it down and sit outside on my concrete stairs and talk about what middle school will bring. To brag about the new food we have brought back to make plans for the summer, to hope for an amazing year and to act on those dreams and make them come true. |
The Joy Of Cooking
By Aidan Guilfoyle if family is what we need to thrive, if air is what we need to live, if food is what we need to survive then why is it such a hassle? Some people hate to cook anything other than hotdogs in the microwave of marshmallows on the fire. Others won't eat anything that comes in a bag if they only create the finest dishes and fret over every spilt spice. Why is it such a hassle, such a dilemma that we can't even pick one? Why can't we have both? Why can't there be healthy food in the box? Why can't there be delicious food on the stove? Why is it custom to have one or the other why do some live to open up the box of pasta and drop it in the pot why is it extraordinary to create your own noodles and boil them in your homemade broth. Why are some against the other. From the beginning, humans scavenged or cooked, we found our food or made it. Does the love and stile of cooking have anything to do with how you grow up or is it simply in your genes. My family is a mix of both. My dad cooks everything to bread to soup from cookies to parfaits and I have the same love of cooking in my blood. My sister, on the other hand will only make cookies and boil pasta, she buys everything from a box at Vons. My mother is a little of both she makes cake and pot roast and takes pre cooked food out of a box. Is it the way you are? Is it the way you lived or is it the people in your life? I think It's all of them, there is nothing that I could find that causes. The difference there’s nothing I can tell you that will make you eat the same way and enjoy it just as much we are all different and that's ok. I think everyone is a little of both maybe you love to cook maybe you hate it just as much. You may have some of both but you will never have only one you will always appreciate. I interviewed my crazy family and found they each have their own style but they each have trates that spread to others with the same cooking style. For example people that bake seem well organized and on top of everything. They have a clean life and a perfect plan for everything they cook. But on the other hand, the people who cook are a little chaotic they leave a mess, they find the spices as they need them, not before and certainly not after. But the people who are both the people with the craziness but stable throws are the people who I found truly interesting they are all one of a kind they have a mix of both traits but they are never the same they don't have the same process and they certainly don't have the same results even if they are all amazing in their own way. I may never know what causes it but I know I love to cook and so dose my dad mom sister and I have found everyone has the happy joy of dropping the pasta in the pot or cooking chicken or grilling steak, everyone has a little of both and something that is completely original something unique to you and you alone. |