Ill P. (Who that be?)

So...I've decided to write about me.
Yes, me.

What exactly sparked me to do this? The bus ride on the Q59 yesterday afternoon. I usually take a nap when I'm riding on the bus or the subway train but not yesterday. The whole ride was filled with thoughts, ideas, and unanswered questions. I got on the Q59 on Bedford Ave between South 3rd & South 4th Streets. I was on my way to Elmhurst, Queens (where I was raised). At this point in my life, "stress" is the one word that would perfectly describe the scenario and the stage that I'm in right now. I'm in the middle of getting my shit together. There are problems at my job and I'm still waiting to move into a new apartment. So yes, I've been doing a whole lot of "extra thinking". My boyfriend, Teddy King, is holding me up. He takes care of me. If I didn't have him in my life right now, I wouldn't be so sane.

All right, so I got on the bus. At first, I sat down on one of the single seats on the right side of the bus. Unfortunately, my damn legs didn't fit into the tiny spacing between the seats but luckily the bus was still pretty empty so I headed to the back of the bus. I was comfortable. I noticed the differences in people as the bus stops to pick up all the commuters from Williamsburg to Queens Blvd. Everyone is trying to survive here. New York City, the city of opportunities. I realized that money means different things to different people. I like to spend money when I get a chance to. And I've learned how to say no to spending money when I moved out of my uncle's apartment in 2004. I've been living on my own since I was 19 years old.

I wasn't born into a wealthy family. I was never poor and I've always had a place to call home. No, I did not come from a healthy family. And yes, my parents are divorced. I was raised by my grandmother and my father in Bangkok, Thailand, up until I was about 8 years old. They've decided it's best for me to move to the States. My uncle owns an apartment in Elmhurst, Queens. When I moved here, my uncle and his wife just had a baby, little Nina. We grew up together. She's like a blood sister to me. I was never a troubled kid. I've always done good in school. I went to the library every weekend to borrow books that would last me all throughout the weeks. I followed curfews and obeyed all the rules.

I didn't know how to speak English when I first started going to P.S. 13. I remember my 4th grade teacher, Ms. Schwartz, pulling my hair on the first day because I wouldn't stop crying. I wanted to go home. After reading and paying attention in school, I started communicating with the rest of the world in English. The one teacher I could never ever forget is Mrs. Wray, my 5th grade teacher. She taught me everything. The rest is history. Hell, I still have difficulties pronouncing certain words but everyday is a learning experience, right? I also hate seeing misspelled words! I went to I.S. 61 in Corona, Queens. I got picked on once or twice because I was a nerdy lookin' asian girl. Yeah, the school was pretty bad but the education was pretty good. There were fights after school almost everyday. I've always hated fights. The majority of the kids at I.S. 61 were hispanics and blacks. My best friend at the time was Colombian. I was on the honor roll and fucked up for the first time in 8th grade. I was into the Backstreet Boys (yes, laugh all you want). Me and two of my friends decided to cut school to go see the BSB in Times Square and got caught by the cops. That was the first and only time I was in a police van. They called our parents and notified the school. I was grounded for months. Junior high school years went by pretty quick. Our dean was one of the coolest adults that I knew. He let me picked our graduation theme song. It was tight.
I applied to Art & Design High School in Manhattan and I got in. I rocked the art test. High school was a lot of fun. I skipped classes, listened to a lot of punk rock music, learned "how to rave", took advanced honors classes, played hacky sack every day, worked with Jane Cosmetics, fell in and out of 4 years worth of puppy love, went to summer school for Phys Ed (and got a 100 for it), wrote a bunch of poems, wore jungle beads and candy, started my first real job.

I was raised to be kind to people. I never rebeled against any of my parents (my grandma, my uncle, and his wife). Sure, I've hurt my grandma a few times (verbally but not intentionally) but they've never forced me to do anything I didn't want to do. They've always given me the opportunity to choose wisely in life with their support. They've never talked to me about drugs or alcohol. I'm still drug-free. I had my 1st beer when I was 17. I still don't like to drink that much. I don't smoke cigarettes. Sometimes I feel as if I take everything too much for granted. Yeah, I want a lot of things that I don't need in life. I have more than what many people in this city doesn't have. I'm grateful for it. Life is difficult, man. I try my best not to be selfish each and every day and I try to give. If only we all think the same. I haven't seen my own father in 13 years. It's about to change soon though. My mother called me from Thailand a month ago. I haven't seen or spoken to her in 13 years. Life is one big mystery.

Take control of your life.

I'm Ill P. but do you know my real name?