


Why yes, I am going to be an arsonist at age 9.






Chapter 1: Post-Raisin to Five
I'm sifting through pictures and cards in the wee hours of the morning, which is turning out to be quite an emotional ride. It’s strange looking at the beginning and contemplating the paths life can take.
I was sure proud and happy in my sister’s company, my best friend really.
Rubber boots were hip, glasses and bowl haircuts were not. Wiggling out of a haircut was not an option, but glasses, wow, so many options. My plan was cunning and full proof- throw them away with my lunch bag at school. I recall slipping them into the bag, while scanning the room like a prisoner who senses a looming riot. By the time my mom cracked the lie, 1 question and 3 seconds, they were exiting the school's incinerator. We were poor and this was apparently not helpful. But the damn things came back, thicker, more Navy and uglier than before!