I am Puerto Rican, Italian and Greek. With both sides of my families having many cousins and aunts, you can imagine how crazy it gets. There is no easy way to say it other than, my dad always wanted a son. My sister never got below and A- in her life, which means she had no life. My mom is a social worker that doesn’t know how to leave her work at home. From “how was your day” to “well I think you should just let it go” my mom never learned how to let things go, or stop asking questions. But through all the craziness and lack of actually being home, I’ve grown to love them, or at least tolerate it more.

There is one event in my life though, that just explains how badly my family lacks in boundaries. So I was driving home from practice one day and I was mapping out what I had to do that night, and homework and applying to college. Thinking about my soon to be first date with Kyle that weekend. When I got home I saw a car in the driveway. Now it looked familiar, but I am not one to memorize license plates. So I figured it was my moms friends and they were eating dinner with us. I was wrong on that point. When I opened the door, as if from a movie, the door opened I put my stuff down and went into the kitchen and right as I walked in my football coach and my dad turned and looked at me. You know when you are in middle school and you get called into the principals’ office? You know you didn’t do anything wrong but you still look terrified; that’s exactly how I looked when I saw Ferrazzi sitting there. Coach skipped practice today so I thought he was sick, apparently sick means drinking coffee with my dad in the kitchen. The ironic part was he was drinking out of the #1 DAD mug I got my dad when I was little. My dad looks at me and says “I told him about Kyle” and then, within the same beat, Ferrazzi goes, “why cant he get a girl his own age?” Kyle is 7 months older then I... We are both seniors in high school… I turned around in that moment grabbed my bag and drove to my friend Vicki’s house to tell her of this crazy event.

Now John Ferrazzi is like the Mr. Feeny of gym teachers for me. He was my teacher all through middle school and all through high school, and my coach in high school; basically my second dad. Now Ferrazzi is that typical jock in high school, his hair is always gelled up at the front to make that weird point, or in a hat. Now he is the P.E teacher at my high school, but he dresses like, picture a Ken doll in his go to the gym outfit. Ferrazzi is now 33, which means he is 29; you never ever mention his age unless it includes the term 29, like when women hate to turn 30, that’s my coach. Ferrazzi is most defiantly always singing in the coaches office before practice or games, very loudly and not very good either, or yelling to the point where his voice cracks on the field. But hey for a man with a bachelors and getting his masters in teaching now, he does all right. He has been like a second father to me, one that I can tell things to at least.

My dad works shifts and my mom just works so I am on my own a lot, with my sister in school at least. The downside to being home alone… my dad blowing up my cellphone with texts to see how I am doing, what I am doing, and whom I am with. Through all the overbearing overprotecting high school years, I still managed to become an amazing liar, not just a liar though, I managed to still tell the truth just in case I got caught, yet not say there were boys involved. Which is so ironic when you think about it. I spent my entire high school life on the football team, but my dad didn’t like me hanging out with guys. That’s what you get for being the youngest.