I am from a green house with a thick layer of fog covering the top of it

a tall wall-like forest of redwood trees at the end of my block

a neighborhood with barely any stores but one nice pottery store where my mom buys all her gifts

skinny olive tree that doesn’t grow olives

a row of similar colored rectangular houses, except one colorful green, pink, gold, and blue house that doesn’t fit in with the rest of street

I am from a room that is mostly blue and falling asleep to the sound of cars outside driving by

every day, looking for my things and then finding them in my sister’s room

parents turning on the lights after I ignored my alarm and yelling, “Wake up!”

“Brush your teeth!” and “Get dressed!”

“Come to breakfast!” and “Put your shoes on!” and then “Get in the car!”

family movie night on Fridays, eating pizza in the TV room

I am from spending the holidays with my mom’s side of the family and watching TV with my dad after homework, working our way through our favorite Netflix series

I am from skiing every weekend in the winter and failing to do our Advent calendars

“are you done with your homework?” and “what about math?”

coming home to the smell of spices when my dad cooks dinner three times a week,

going through his usual rotation of meals and Gordos burritos every Tuesday

neighborhood restaurants that we walk to and sushi on special occasions

I am from salame, carrots, and hummus for a snack and bagels and pears every morning, gluten-free pancakes on the weekend, loaded with syrup

a steaming hot Cup-of-Noodles for lunch when I’m skiing

I am from summer vacations that never go as planned

This Is Where I Am From