One Hell of A Decade, Part I.

"Time won't leave me as I am; but time won't take the boy out of this man." - Bono


It's almost 2010, and I want to chronicle my life of these past ten years. This post is more for me, at this point, than for anyone else. This past decade has been the most important ten years of my life so far, and there's no denying it. Since 2000, I've become a person who I never even thought I'd possibly become.

That little boy who existed so long ago isn't here anymore, and in some bittersweet way, it's for the best. So much has happened to me, changed me, in these past ten years that I can't even express my memories of those times in any kind of way that would truly do justice to the many moments of my life, at this point.

But where I'd begin about the last decade of my life isn't as hard to figure out: It all started when my father left.

2000

My fondest memories right before his departure were of my fright when the ball dropped in Time Square (a place I didn't know I'd grow up, and spend so much time at yet) and ushered the world into the 21st century, and I remember thinking that Y2K would become a reality, and the world would end (which is why I'm not a 2012 believer).

That summer, the old lady who lived next door to my grandparents, gave her nephew's comic book collection to me and my brother. My brother didn't care to keep his so he passed them down to me. It was a nice gesture of his, but neither of us knew that the comic book collection of only fifty books would later stretch to over seven thousand today, under my stewardship.

Another great memory of 2000 would be of my father, my brother, and myself going to see the first X-Men movie on it's opening day; a tradition, or rather, routine that I'd never break after that experience.

But every memory wasn't so fantastic. My parents fought so extremely bad on the daily basis that their words blistered the air around them, my teachers degraded me, I remember to such points where I was truly frightened of school, and even though I was always massively taller than the rest of my classmates, I was the guy in the class since even before that time who'd been outcasted because it was the cool thing to do, according to the others.

That Christmas would be the last that my brother and I ever shared with both of our parents together. And now that I think of it, that was probably one of the most bittersweet days of my life, not knowing that that would be, for what it was worth, the last "normal" year of my life.

Things were never the same after that....

2001
2001 was probably the toughest year I'd ever faced, as a child. That year was so extraordinarily rough that I still feel the effects of it today. Alot of my somewhat negative outlook stems from that year. It was horrible, especially, with having to see things through the eyes of a child at that point.

My dad left around March of that year. Without a word or anything, he just up and left. Faster than a snap of the fingers, he was gone, and my mom took care of my brother and I from that point on. My brother, especially, looked out for me in ways that I can only commend him for today. He was only shy of becoming eleven and with so much responsibility on his shoulders of being my big brother, now that I think of it.

There were very few smiles that year. Things were bad. The life that I'd known until that point was a thing of the past.

Some days, we didn't even have enough money for more than one carton of Chinese food to share between the three of us, I recall. The privilege of TV was gone, and I remember my mom asking my brother and I to choose between the Cable bill and the Electricity bill, almost as if there was a choice. She made light of that particular situation, but even then, I could tell that it was for my benefit and my brother's to lighten the situation. Eviction notices were the big dilemma that year.

A rather unfond memory of that year was of my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Giordano, who my mom and I later realized was a racist, along with most of my other elementary teachers and it's then-principle, when she called me to the front of the classroom, in front of my fellow thirty other classmates, and threw my notebook on the floor and made me pick it up from the floor, as she encouraged them to laugh at me, after she checked my homework and saw that it wasn't done.

Not long afterwards, my mom moved us to a new apartment, and we began anew from there.

That June, after five years of elementary school (including kindergarten), I graduated from my very first school. My grandparents, my brother, my mom, and my then-alive cousin, Carmelo, all took me out to an Italian restaurant. It was a nice day, but like all other good things in my life, it came to an end.

Around this time, I wrote my very first story. It was something else! I incorporated characters, not necessarily superheroes, from all kinds of stories from my childhood and from different movies I'd seen growing up, and the story consisted of them all meeting up. It wasn't spectacular, but I was proud of it.

That fall, I'd entered middle school. My dark days of schoolhood torment continued into that school-year. I was picked on badly, in the opening school days, alone. But on the eleventh day of September, I remember something being in the air, something eerie. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I'd just woken up that day with a true gut feeling of fear. I'd even say it was prophetic, in some way.

To be in the city, on that day, was something I'll never forget.

There was just something about that morning, even before the whole attack started, that I could feel in some weird way. It's unexplainable.

I remember my brother and I walked into school that day, we went to our classes, and around 11 AM, while I was at lunch, my parents - together - came to pick my brother and I up from school early. That day was frightening.

The streets were desolate, the sound of crying could be heard all throughout my dad's building after he'd taken us to his place, where my mom met with us later, and I'll never forget it: That night, there was just pure silence. Everywhere.

For about a week afterwards, I remember EVERYONE being super paranoid about everything.... and everyone.

Not long after, I recall my brother and I watching the premiere of Smallville, and becoming amazingly fascinated with the mythology of the Man of Steel. But I remember, even with that great weekly experience coming into my life, I was still shaken by September 11th.

Things continued like that into the next year....

2002
That year, as well, started off in sorrow when a girl from my class passed away, after school re-started from the holiday season. Although I didn't really know her, I remember being very hurt by her death. That was one of the very first times I'd come across the death of someone I knew, not on a personal level, but just from around.

I'm not sure when it was exactly, but I'm sure it wasn't long after my classmate's death, when my cousin, Carmelo, took me to a pizza shop near my grandparents' house (which isn't in existence any longer), and I remember we just talked for a very long while. He was cool that way.

That May, it was like the world stopped just for the very first Spider-Man movie. It came out the day after my brother's 14th birthday, and I remember my dad taking the both of us to see the film. The line for that movie was probably one of the longest lines I've ever been on. A true blockbuster, the line stretched literally all the way down the block, but we were lucky enough to be in the more towards the front part of the line.

Over the next few weeks, I remember enjoying Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones, and Men In Black 2, in the movies, with Attack of the Clones being the very first movie I ever went to see alone, the way I'd do most things in my life from then onwards.

I went to summer-school that year, as I did, most years of school.

My original middle school transferred me because of the move to my new location, earlier in the spring, but little did I know that the school I was attending for that summer would be the school I'd be at for the next three years.

Nothing profound happened that summer, at M.S. 127, but all of that fun was to come later.

My birthday, that August, was my very first "quiet" birthday. Out of my entire family, my birthday party was always the biggest one because it's in the summer, but that year, I remember just staying at home and watching some movies. It wasn't anything special, but I don't think I wanted anything special after the year I'd had.

That September, I joined the infamous (within my personal circles) M.S. 127 in the sixth grade. I didn't make many friends, at first, and I honestly didn't want to be there, but after I made it a habit to laugh constantly at my homeroom teacher's Jamaican accent on the regular basis, things brightened up a bit.

That is, until the kids at this new school, also started to tease and bully me in even more personal ways than before, at all of my other schools.

It wasn't long before I met my friend Rafael, who went through similar, if not worse, treatments than myself. At first, I remember keeping my distance from him, because I wasn't sure of where he stood in relation to the other kids who treated me like a freak, but I came around to becoming an acquaintance of his.

I remember watching Bird of Prey a lot around this time. Ashley Scott was probably my first real celebrity crush, and then I moved on to Natalie Portman later in the year.

Around the time of the DC Sniper incident, I literally decimated my right knee. One day in the playground at school, I was running (I used to be, well, still am pretty fast) and I stomped way too hard on the ground. It was probably one of the worst pains I've ever felt, even today.

Before the Thanksgiving holiday, a kid at school named Sean Roundtree, I remember, kept throwing his lunch at me. And even with all of my known-for patience, I couldn't help but to jump out of my seat and without a doubt, kick his ass, until I made him cry. He was the only other guy who was my height in the sixth grade.

When I was through with him, his face was so bloody, that it was almost hard to even recognize him. I got suspended for that fight, although I didn't start it. I didn't start it but I damn sure finished it the way my mother, father and brother taught me to, since I was the youngest of the family.

According to one of my old classmates, the kid's mother transferred him to another school because I beat him so badly. But hey, he wrote a check his ass couldn't cash. It's wasn't my fault.

There was a meteor shower one night in the later part of the year. I recall getting the idea for my own universe of comic book heroes on that same night. Since then, I'd continue to create that same gigantic storyline, even today. The fact that I conceived the story during a celestial occurrence always intrigued me.

Christmas that year, was awesome! We spent the holidays at my grandparents' house, as we always do, and everything was perfect for a day. It snowed and didn't stop, I got a whole shopping bag full of comic book stuff, and everyone was happy for once.

From then on, things were, by my unusual standards, pretty normal until the next year....

2003
Her name was Marlene Otero. At that point, she was probably the cutest girl I'd ever seen. I was working on a project, in a group with other classmates, who'd been assigned to my area, when my teacher announced a new student to the class.

All of the guys were shocked at how cute the new girl was, and I wasn't alone this time. Now that I look back on it, she was probably my very first real crush. It's amazing how naive we can be at that age.

From the first week of meeting her, I tried my best to insinuate to her just how much I liked her, or thought I did. I was painfully shy, as I still am in plenty of ways, and at that time my biggest flirting device was offering her gum on the daily basis. It didn't work of course, but it was fun to attempt back then.

It was February by the time I knew it, and I remember it snowing really hard for the first time since the mid-90s, and the snow was really deep. That winter, I was obsessed with the Daredevil movie. Even today, I still don't see why people hate it as much as they do.

Another memory of my cousin Carmelo, is from that winter when my mom took him, my brother, and myself downtown for the day. It was sometime in March, I believe. We went to the movies to see Underworld, which I didn't like at first, but would come to love as a teenager years later when I was able to understand it, and for the first time that day, I stepped into my once beloved Midtown Comics.

Sometime later in the month, I was surprised to have my father pick me up from school and take me to a Mets game. I didn't particularly care for the game, but it was a memorable day.

That spring, I remember my brother getting into a big fight in High School which didn't blow over for a long time, and as the year went on with X-Men 2 and the original Hulk movies intriguing me to newfound levels, I remember gaining a heightened interest in comic books again. An interest that I remember, my brother ended up spending his paycheck on for me. I felt guilty at the time, but I paid him back as I got older for sure.

That summer, my mom took my brother and I to my most favorite place on the planet: Wildwood, New Jersey. It was different without my father being there with us, but it turned out to be my most favorite vacation of all time.

One of the days of the vacation were ugly-yet-memorable, when my mom took my brother and I to see Terminator 3, as I'd begged her to for the longest time. That night was probably the first night I'd ever experienced prejudice on such a level when the staff of the theatre felt the need to stop the three of us and tell us the rules of the establishment, while allowing the white customers to go freely into the theatre and about their business.

And to top it off, later that night after the movie was over, and we were on our way back to the motel, the cops stopped and questioned my brother, without reason, because they "suspected" him of being a mugger. I mean, really.... was that just mere coincidence or something much more racist? You decide.

That autumn, the day after Thanksgiving to be exact, my mom took me to my very first comic book convention. It was a very nice day, spending it with her. She bought me my very first signed comic book that day. The memories of that day are what I go back to sometimes just for a smile; it was one of those types of days, one in a million.

And then, that year ended....

2004
My mom had gotten into an internship that year, she left every morning around 7 AM, and my brother and I saw that as an opportunity to stay home from school every day. It was fun up until a red flag was waved in the computers at school for me.

Eventually, I slipped out of trouble then, just as I do these days. Like a ninja!

In April of that year, my grandfather took my brother and I to see the first Punisher movie with Tom Jane as Frank Castle, and I remember being the only one out of the entire theatre of people to recieve the promotional copy of the Punisher's first comic book appearance because no one else asked the staff for their copies, because nobody knew of the promotion.

That year, I met a teacher who had a positive impact on me for a change. I consider her one of the two teachers that I really did care for, and in effect, cared for me. Her name was Ms. Watts.

Through all of the kids' continuous teasing, and my other teachers stressing me out, which she even saw for herself, she was the only one who encouraged me to be myself and to think for myself. At one point she caught me writing a Superman story during class, and unlike other teachers who would've made a mountain out of a mole-hill, she allowed me to continue my writing and even encouraged me to do so at one point.

On days where I was feeling down, she always found a way to pick me up while everyone else would just abandon me to the corner of the classroom.

That routine occurred on the daily basis as Marlene continued to ignore me, I still didn't really have any friends, and the days of the 7th grade kept looking more and more bleak.

That June, right before school ended, the school took us on a trip to Rye Playland. It was an extremely fun day. Kris, a friend I'd made from summer school the year before, and I had paired up for the day and we made sure to get on all of the rides while, in a sub-plot of my own, I tried my best to scheme my way into getting as close to Marlene as I possibly could.

The funny thing was that, it wasn't until I stopped trying to get near her after a whole day of failed attempts, that she finally said hello to me. Back then, just a greeting like that from a girl would make my day. Things have gotten more complex since.

That night, after I'd gotten home from school, my mom gave me a call from her internship and to my surprise, told me that she'd found us a new apartment. The news came unhappily to me at first, but I eventually came to accept it.

By the end of the school-year, Ms. Watts was my only good friend. And my only regret was that I didn't go to the last day of the seventh grade, and I never got the chance to say goodbye to her. It's almost heartbreaking, when I think of it. I'd give anything to meet her again, just so I could say goodbye to her.

A few days after school ended, I saw Spider-Man 2 in the theatres, and to my surprise, I enjoyed it more than I did with the first one from two years prior. And I felt ashamed, a bit, because I didn't think that that was even possible until the sequel came out.

That summer, we moved to our current apartment. Those days were excruciating. That summer, I found a newfound hatred for the heat, which was ironic since I was born in the hottest month of the year. My mom couldn't afford movers to move our stuff, so my grandmother drove us in shifts from our old apartment to the new one.

For some reason, every day when my mother had us to move our stuff, it would be over ninety degrees, just by pure coincidence. It wasn't long before I decorated my ne room with all of my comic book and sci-fi memorabilia. Come to think of it, my current room is the first room I ever had to myself. Every other place I'd lived at was shared with my brother, which was exhausting because we could never compromise peacefully on anything.

It was a day in late September, after I'd entered the eighth grade, that I remember watching the epic fourth season premiere of Smallville. It aired on wednsdays at that time.

The next day, weeks after I started the eighth grade, it wasn't long before my infamous walk with Marlene came about. It just so happened that, while I was waiting for Kris to come out of school, Marlene came out first and I took my chance to walk with her, and for the first time, she didn't avoid me. I remember the sounds of U2's Beautiful Day in my head during the bus ride home. It felt magical.

I was happy as I could've been when it was all over with, and even happier the day afterwards when she talked to me in school.

In Novemer, I can remember rooting heavily for John Kerry to win that year's presidential election, but my hopes were crushed when Bush ended up beating him.

It's all a big blur after that....

2005
My luck had ran out when Marlene found herself a boyfriend. They walked together, kissed in the hallways, and well, overall just pissed me off. It's cute, now that I see how much of a puppy-love I was in with her, and actually thought it was really substantial.

By this time, I'd grown very close with a new friend, who'd later become my best friend in the world, Joseph Ferrante. Joseph was a guy who I'd known from around, acquainted myself with, but never really got to know in the seventh grade. From the start of the 8th grade, however, we hit it off instantly due to our similar interests in pretty much everything.

From comics, to movies, to music, to political views, to our hatred for school, Joe and I were matched on every level, accept he was much more popular than I was. And he had lots of girls, something I laugh about even today, as I write this post.

I remember going to see Constantine with my brother and my mom for my brother's birthday, and we ended up having a nice night out together in Bay Plaza.

In order to graduate that year, my class had to do individual exit projects for history and science class. My science project was relatively easy, while I later aced my history exam which I based on John Kerry, after months of sorrow over his defeat. I remember, fondly, that my entire 8th grade class made the effort to clap extensively for only me, when my presentation was over. That made my day, I recall.

By that June, Marlene had rejected my attempt to ask her out, I graduated from middle school shortly after, and from there, I spent my summer trying to forget about Marlene and how much time I felt I wasted with her. That was the first of many, many heartbreaks to come.

There was a period of movie-going that spring, after I'd seen Elektra and Sin City (which was visually stunning) in the earlier part of the year. It started with Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of The Sith, and then to Batman Begins, and then to the first Fantastic Four film. I saw Star Wars five times in the movies, while for Batman Begins, I made it back to the theatres to see twice, and the same went for Fantastic Four (I thought Jessica Alba was soooo sexy back then, she used to be yummy!).

I spent that summer playing video games at Kris' house, going downtown to Midtown Comics every other day, writing a crap-load of stories, and finding a newfound obsession for Coldplay. It was a true summer of boyhood.

High School came knocking that September, and I wasn't too pleased at the idea of spending yet another four years of my life in school doing things which I had absolutely no interest in.

For some reason, the teachers were more boring than before, the girls were hotter - I'd have to admit, and everyone was in some type of pissy mood all the time, it seemed.

Much to my mom's dismay, I began visiting with my father's family who lived across the street from Lehman High, and at the time, I remember feeling that my only way to continue the visits were if I kept them a secret from my mom because she didn't get along with them. Of course, she found out when my grandfather opened his mouth on day after I'd confided in him, and the fallout was driving me insane.

Between the frustrations of adapting to High School, dealing with my mom's demands and sometimes overprotection, watching my friends like Kris grow shallow in his own High School, and plenty of other things, I truly did feel as if it was all spinning out of control.

The only thing that was keeping me sane, was a then-freshman TV series called Supernatural. It's crazy how just the small things in life can mean so much to us. For me, it was this new TV show which I found overly fascinating. I remember a big part that played in me watching the series from it's very first airdate was because Jensen Ackles had a recurring role in Smallville the year before.

Back then, I considered Smallville to be my favorite series, but it didn't take half a season for me to already consider the new kid on the block, Supernatural, a close second (and we all know how that ended up).

Around the end of the year, my pride was sorta shattered when a girl named Jackie, who I'd spoken to every day for about two weeks, and ended up eventually meeting, didn't even care enough to speak to me again without any explanation. It left me with a sense of shame, or rather, a sense of disappointment.

By the end of that year, I'd lost so much interest in High School that I was contemplating dropping out.

That feeling continued into the next year.

2006
2006 was really a less-than-profound year for me, with only a few-but-important things that happened in my life.

I wrote my first blog entry in this year, and little did I know that I would write over 500 more within the next three years.

I remember spending ample time on a now-defunct website called Sconex.com, where I used to run a comic book-based fansite before the site closed it's doors. I even met my friend Kris Guerra there, the only other guy I can call a true comic book collector of my generation.

I spent that year trying to make up for school credits that I'd failed to obtain, and trying to get the affections of another shallow girl named Amanda, who also found every excuse in the book to avoid me.

I spent most of my school days writing and skipping class in the library, where I ended up coming up with some pretty cool ideas.

I got my very first job that year, working in maintenance for the Parks Department, at Pelham Bay Park. I did that for about six months.

I'd become so bored with school, that I made it a routine to hang out in Parkchester with Joseph and his friends for a while, until I got tired of seeing the same old faces of the people I didn't even know. They were all Josephs friends, and to me, they were just friends of a friend; acquaintences, I guess you could say.

The school made a computer error, that winter, and they accused me of missing an entire year of school, which unfortunatley my mom believed for some reason, and I remember taking the heat for something I didn't even do for about a month or so. It sucked because I truly had everyone against me, and for no good reason. The school screwed up, and I paid for it. I felt as if I was being framed, to say the least.

That February, I attended the first annual New York Comic-Con. It was well worth the while. My brother went with me the first day, and because he's such an outsider in the comic book world, he found the whole experience to be a big laugh, from the grown men and women in costumes, to the actual forty year old virgin types who filled the Jacob Javits Center.

It was a funny dynamic between my brother and I that day, where I was more experienced at something than he was; it was my turf, although I wasn't as much of a geek as 95% of the rest of the convention population that year.

Over the next two days of the convention, I had a blast. Irony filled the second day when both, the autographing tickets for Todd McFarlane and Jim Lee were sold out. In a twist of fate, a generous guy gave me his ticket to meet Todd McFarlane, and while I was standing on line to meet him, Jim Lee passed by in the hallway and I was able to get his autograph too. I went from no luck, to having an excess of it by the end of that weekend.

But even with that good experience under my belt, life seemed like hell that year; one weekend couldn't change that. I'd go to school, and my teachers would fail me at the end of the marking period, even after I did their work and passed their tests most of the time. I'd come home after school every day and have my mother on my back all day about, what seemed like, everything. I couldn't win, my life was a big catch-22.

And of course, every stance that my mom took, my brother would be there right beside her - like a puppy, sometimes - with the same position about the things that were going on in my life. Things that I didn't necessarily feel concerned him, which even lead to a big hand-to-hand blowout between the two of us one day. When all was said and done, the whole routine and aura of that year, went on to further my feeling of helplessness. I was a haven of animosity that year.

I even had a falling out with my dad's family when my dad's stepfather called my school to see if I was skipping class, while I was visiting them one day, which was something that I felt very betrayed by. After that, I didn't return to their house for a very long time, I remember. I really didn't apprieciate that.

That year was a mess. It was a time of confusion, angst, and turmoil for me. I didn't like 2006 at all.

Even the movies I went to see that year kept me in a funky mood, with both X-Men 3 and Superman Returns sucking horribly (X-Men 3 sucked, to me, because damn near everyone got killed - which wasn't faithful to the comics, and in terms of Superman Returns, I didn’t like the idea of Clark having a son).

That May, I went to my very first comic book convention in Philadelphia. It was a cool new experience. I met my good friend Jason at that convention, fatefully.

The most memorable of that particular convention was when I met Erica Durance, the portrayor of Lois Lane on Smallville. It was a rather routine autograph session, but the only thing different that time around, was that she said I had "the cutest eyes she'd ever seen". Like everyone else who notices my eyes from time to time, I told her how they changed colors. (What can I say? It's a gift!)

They say that first impressions go a long way, but internally, I didn't really click with Jason right away. At first glance, he seemed like a over-confident guy who thought he knew everything, had to be right all the time, and took over the entire conversation on all subjects.

I loved U2; he hated U2. I loved Supernatural; he hated Supernatural. I loved Coldplay; he hated Coldplay. I liked Spider-Man 2; he hated Spider-Man 2. And so on, and so forth (you get the picture).

To me, a friendship is based on an unsaid acceptance and understanding of similarities, whereas Jason and I didn't really have many when we first met, and that made for a really stressful environment at times. Overall, by the end of the convention I got his email address but unfortunately I'd lost it while I was on my way back to New York. As things turned out, I didn't come across him again until an entire year later.... but I'll get to that.

That summer was probably the worst summer I ever had: My mom was dating this guy who I didn't get along with because he was such a freeloader. He stayed over at our apartment all the time, ate our food and just overall became a real pest, while my room was a mess and effected my mood alot of the time, and the heat was really getting to me because I didn't have and air conditioner yet. And then, I remember, the electricity got turned off for a day or so because my mom's check was late. That summer sucked.

Eventually, it all got to me. One day, a few days before my birthday, I just blew up at my mom after she'd blamed me for breaking something (I forget what it was exactly) in the bathroom. Things got so heated, in fact, that she slapped me and I just packed my stuff and ran off into the night; it was around 2 AM, the dead of night.

I was pissed that night because it almost seemed at one point, whereas my mom was being twisted by her then-boyfriend's mentality. It seemed as if she was changing and I was trapped in an unbearable situation. And of course, my brother was on my mom's side.

Usually, I would've ran to my grandparents' house but I knew they'd just blindly take my mom's side too, so I went to the only other place I felt safe: The playground of M.S. 127, which was over two miles away.

When I got there, I felt a pain on my left foot, so I took my shoe off and to my surprise, I found that there was a massive blister on the back of my foot. I had to do something about it because it was hurting so much, so I broke out my butterfly knife that my grandfather had bought for me when we were in Maryland for my cousin's High School graduation the year before, and I jabbed the fluid bubble, which sprayed out some kind of sweat.

 Eventually, I fell asleep on one of the playground's benches and in the morning when I woke up, I went to my friend Kris' house, where he told me that my mom had been calling all night long to all of my friends to find me.

Later that day, I came home and found my mom crying and carrying on, and in that instant, I knew that I'd won the fight. Her lesson was realized: That I was a person, an individual, and not some slave or errand runner who was to be bossed around all the time, or spoken to in any manner she felt at any given time.

I'd outsmarted her. Y'see, the thing most people don't understand about me is that while I may be young, I've always (not to sound so arrogant) been smarter than most people, or what most people seem to be, anyway.

A few days later, I attended Kevin Smith's signing at his comic book store in Red Bank, New Jersey.... all by myself, once again. That day was terrible. I left the house at 5 AM, got into the town around 8 AM, and when I finally got to the store, there were (without exageration) over a thousand people on line already. What was supposed to be a five hour wait, at maximum, turned into a eighteen hour ordeal in over one-hundred degree heat, and as I've expressed before, I don't do well in the heat. Not one bit.

When I finally met Kevin Smith, at 1 AM - the next day, after waiting on the massively long line, I was met with rudeness from some of the employees, but I was just too tired to deal with them. One guy, Walt Flanigan (the guy in Clerks who smashes the eggs against the refrigerators) wouldn't even let me get most of my stuff signed after I'd waited for almost a day straight, on the line. That guy was a massive asshole.... it bothers me to even think of him!

Kevin Smith was really cool and courteous though. It was generally only the people around him who were such dicks.

And then to top it off, when I got to the train station in order to get back home, it turned out that I'd missed the last departing train of the night, which is when I called my mom and at which point, my phone's battery drained out and our conversation was ended abruptley, causing her to call the Red Bank Police have them to let me spend the night at their station until the morning came around.

That was probably the first time I'd come across courteous police officers, though through exhausting circumstances. They're definatley not like the police in New York, specifically the Bronx, that's for sure.

My birthday came two days later, and it was the first birthday in which I, in fact, bought all of my own gifts with the money I'd made from the maintenance job at Pelham Bay Park from over the school-year.

The only thing that made me happy was when Supernatural returned for it's second season, that September, at which point I considered both Supernatural and Smallville to be my favorite shows; both a tie.

That November, I'd stopped talking to my childhood friend, Kris, when he abandonned me at his house to go out with his girlfriend. I didn't speak to him for a long time after that, and even when we began speaking about a year later, things were never the same again because of that incident.

That Christmas was pretty cool though. I got a ton of comic books, a PSP, and a new jacket that I used to wear all the time.

The year ended well, but overall, it sucked. It was almost as bad as 2001.

2007
2007 was a year that had some of my many defining moments in it.

That January, I made two friends, a couple named Billy and Darcy, while I was standing on a line at a midnight signing at Midtown Comics. They were really nice people, and ironically, I'd encounter them again at that year's New York Comic-Con. They were so nice, in fact, that I created two supporting characters, which were based on them, in a story I was working on at the time. The characters were primarily of two fallen angels who'd fallen in love, and came to help a group of complex teenagers in New York City.

For a while there, after seeing how happy Bily and Darcy were together, I think that subconsciously I wanted the same thing that they'd found with each other, and it wasn't long before I found the same things that February, when I met Mia in our science class.

She was a cool little punk-rocker back then. Right away, I loved her far more than anything that I had going on in my life at that point. She was my best friend, truly, and I would've done anything for her back then. But the one thing that stood in my way was her excuse for a boyfriend, Michael.

That guy was a dick, and I challenged him plenty of times, but he was never man enough to take me up on any of them. When it comes down to it, though, I just really think that I despised him mostly because of my immense love for Mia, the girl he didn't deserve, because he treated her like garbage.

I spent almost every day of that year with Mia. We were super-close at one point, because we complimented each other in many ways, on a deeply personal level.

I went back to work again for the Parks Department for six months, on an after-school basis, and this time I'd gotten Kris and his friend Peter a job there with me.

 Not long after that, I landed a job writing for the editorial staff at Comicbookmovie.com. I stayed there for a while up until they opened the site to the public, where anyone was able to write for the website, because I felt that their new feature pretty much defeated the purpose of writing for hire.

The week before the screw-up of Spider-Man 3 came out, I came across Jason again at a signing at Forbidden Planet for Topher Grace who played Venom in the film. He was still overall, the same guy with the same persona, and I primarily kept to myself until his friend came to the signing and kept him company.

That was a busy day, I remember, because I came home right after the signing and went right back downtown with my mom to meet Robert Kirkman at Jim Hanley's Universe, which was a bit strange because Robert Kirkman thought that my mom was my girlfriend, because according to him, she ooked so young. It was nice to see my mom flattered by his comment, but weird for me. I still loved and supported his continuing creator-owned work on Invincible though.

That May, I had a memorable morning with Mia when, fatefully, I was late to school and she caught up with me as I was about to enter the school. Instead, I took a stroll all the way from Lehman High, to Pelham Parkway, and then to the Whitestone, and then back to the school, again, where we made it back in time for third period and weren't marked as absent. It was times like those that I cherished with Mia, because I was never able to find that dynamic, where I could walk and talk endlessly for hours on end, with anyone else ever again. School ended not long afterwards.

It wasn't until the next Wizard World Philadelphia Convention, that June, when I came across Jason again, and I finally added him to my Myspace when I got back to my hotel room.

That summer, I went to work for an awning business, through a city agency, in the west Bronx. It paid shit, but I made out at the end of the summer. That job was a pain in the ass, I must say. The owner took advantage of his employees by having us stay over-time without pay, taking us off of the premises to work on people's property where our insurance didn't cover us, and the list was endless.

That summer was drenched in sorrow with that shitty job taking up all of my time, my cousin - Carmelo - getting murdered, and my mom having a stroke, within weeks of each other. I was loosing my mind with all of the hecticness going on in my life.

It was around that time when Jason really became a truly great friend of mine, when he stepped up when no one else did, and took the initiative to try and lighten my mood by hanging out with me a few times over the summer. the first time we hung out, we went to see The Bourne Ultimatum and Superbad. I remember being really grateful for his friendship afterwards, and I began to see him in a different light.

I went to see the White Stripes, in concert, that summer by myself, and later on that summer, Jason and I got the chance to see Muse at Madison Square Garden. Both shows were fantastic, but only a pre-cursor for what I'd experience at concerts with later bands from the upper part of my list of favorite bands.

In late August, Jason was even kind enough to invite me to a signing featuring the cast of Heroes. I didn't like the show at first, thinking that it was a rip-off of the X-Men, but that day, after meeting the cast and buying the first season on DVD, I ended up having such a great time that I started watching the series that September when it returned for it's second season.

I started to really get into TV, a bit more, around that time too. I recall my favorite new shows of that season were: Journeyman, Life, Bionic Woman (The Reboot), Pushing Daisies, Reaper and Chuck (Most of which would later be cancelled within a year or two - with the survivors not doing well, either, these days).

Secretly, I didn't return to school that fall, because I was extremely tired from that summer. It was a secret that I kept from my mom and my brother for four months.

For the first time, on my blog, I created an art-form which consisted of lyrics from a song, and pictures of my choosing, that ended in my unwitting creation of a story - I affectionately called it a montage, and I'd create over seventy more within the next two years.

That whole summer, I didn't speak to Mia because we had a falling out over her willingness to stay with her then-boyfriend because he treated her so badly, and I couldn't allow myself to watch her be dragged down at his side.

Eventually, we resumed talking, but she stayed with him that autumn.

When the school-year came around, Mia, Rafael, and I made it an everyday routine to meet up at Westchester Square for lunch, until the winter came around.

Mia and I grew closer in the remainder of the year.

In late December, the two of us went to the movies with Joseph on a memorable day filled with laughter, joy, and happiness, which isn't a word that I use lightley. It was a good way to end the year. Especially, after so much exhaustion and sorrow.

When that year ended, I thought everything was fine....

2008
That year started off shitty. My heart was torn in two when Joseph and I caught Mia with her ex-boyfriend kissing and making out while she was still going out with me.

I remember feeling as if everything I'd ever felt for her was betrayed within seconds.

That night wasn't a good one: Mia and I had one of the wildest and most violent arguments I'd ever had. We turned into the kinds of people we'd always promised not to become that night. It was such a big blowout that I didn't speak to her for five months afterwards.

And for the longest time, I was left to wonder if she ever felt anything for me at all. Without her in my life, it felt as if everything I ever wished for, was granted to me, and then ripped away again.

That year continued with me in a rut. Heartbroken.

I started at CUNY Prep only a few days after the incident with Mia. The place was overly demanding, and I didn't like the way they did things there. I didn't feel like being there at that point, and to be honest, I wasn't ready to take on such a load, right after having my heart broken on the scale that Mia had broken mine.

The staff of CUNY Prep seemed to genuinely want to control their students, their minds, and every action that we made.

Around March of that year, I came across a Supernatural fansite called Supernaturalfanwiki.wetpaint.com where they were holding a writing contest.

I didn't do as well as I'd hoped, coming in third place out of twelve, but in the end, I became extremely good friends with the website creator, Jaymie and her mom, Holly. They were probably two of the nicest people I'd ever come across, and in alot of ways, saved me from falling further into a depression that I was attempting to come out of.

By that May, I'd dropped out of CUNY Prep, and I was back to doing my own thing again. The hurt of Mia's departure from my life was still lingering, and I was still very much in sorrow, though, doing a bit better.

I got really sick from a kidney infection around this time, after Iron Man had just came out, and right before Speed Racer found it's way into the theatres.

I was shocked that spring, when Supernatural killed off Dean Winchester, one of the series' two main characters, by sending him to hell. I contemplated in my head for months, about how they'd bring the character back, but I had no idea for what I was in for when the next season came around.

That summer, I went to work at a daycare center, after being tricked into doing so by my grandmother who'd told me that it was a writing position at a local newspaper.

From that point on, I'd consider that job to be the very worst of all the jobs I ever had. The entire ordeal was horrible; from kids kicking me, to my co-workers not liking me, to my inevitable discharge after my co-workers conspired against me when our manager came around one day.

That summer, I got to see Coldplay live at the Today show, and they didn't disappoint me at all. With that one performance, they proved me right, that they were honestly the second-best band in the world, right behind U2.

The next day, I learned that one of my favorite comic book artists of all time, Michael Turner, had passed away from cancer. My heart was broken, and it took me a very long time to get over his death. From the times that I met him, at coventions, he was one of the nicest and most gentle people I'd probably ever came across. His death was apart of a long descent of my missing his influence on comic books afterwards.

It wasn't long after that when, The Dark Knight ended up blowing my mind away, in the movie theatre. I remember getting Goosebumps from the very moment the film started on the rooftops of Gotham City, to the very last moment when Batman made the decision to have the GCPD hunt him down so that the Joker's plan couldn't be fulfilled. The movie was purely awesome, in more ways than I can even count.

I had a nice birthday party that year. The night before, though, Jason and I went to see The Dark Knight for the billionth time, and that was actually the very first time I'd ever been out the night before my birthday.

When my big day came around, my family, Joseph, Rafael and Kris (before he had to leave for some bogus reason), all treated me to a day of liesure at a chinese buffet and then to the bowling alley. Even my father made a little cameo appearance at the buffet for my birthday (before he also left for some bogus reason).

 It was a birthday to remember. Turning seventeen was a big deal for me at the time.

The biggest part of the summer was when Jason and I saw my hero, Trent Reznor, in concert at the IZOD center with his brainchild of a band, Nine Inch Nails, in tow. That night was unforgettable. It was a dream come true to see my own, personal, hero doing what he does best, in his full glory, on stage.

That Fall, I returned to CUNY Prep to finish up my High School duration. Things were still primarily the same when I came back for the second time, but I was able to make a go of it the second time around.

Not long after I returned back to school, Supernatural returned for it's fourth season. To my surprise, and every other fans' enthusiasm all around the world, Dean Winchester was saved by an angel named Castiel. It was an extremely big shock because angels were a big no-no at one point in the series' history, since the series' creator, Eric Kripke had always been "officially" against the idea.

But overall, the revelation of a higher power at work in the series' universe, was extremely well taken by myself and my brother, who'd skipped work that night to watch the premiere with me. It was a really memorable day for me, I remember.

That entire day, even while I was at school, all I could think about was the series and the anticipation I had for the fourth season premiere.

Speaking of revelations, I was amazed to find out around this time, that one of my then-teachers, Ms. Silva, was the grandaughter of Lee Falk, the man who created Mandrake, the Magician and The Phantom. I was so surprised when she told me that, that I couldn't help but to sit down and get into a two hour conversation with her after school about her grandfather. and to be honest, I'd never stay after school for anything, let alone, willingly. She was always flattered that I reffered to her as comic book "royalty" from that day on.

By the end of the year, I'd become good friends with one of my school's teachers, and I even spent about 90% of my time in his classroom every day; I even went as far as to take over his class one time to teach my fellow classmates about time-travel and paradoxes.

His name was Mr. Mendoza, and just like Ms. Watts from the seventh grade, he became one of the only two teachers I came to respect to such a level where I was able to call him a true friend. We'd talk about everything all the time, and to my delight, most of my opinions were shared by him. A "free thinker" is what he used to refer to me as.

That same independent, free-thinking, mind that Mr. Mendoza described of mine, was what caused my grandmother and I to have a huge argument. It started when she was talking so ruthlessly, and negatively about my brother behind his back, with me having to listen to her. Not eing able to allow her to go unchecked, I ignited an argument with her in hopes that she'd stop talking so rudely about my only brother who was working tirelessly to provide for himself.

It ended with her kicking me out of her house since I was staying there over the weekend. It didn't affect me though, because just like her, from my point of view, I felt that I was right in the situation.

The rest of the week followed with plenty of awkward silences between the two of us before it eventually blew over. But according to Jason, she's still my grandmother and people from her generation see things, and were raised differently than I was. But that doesn't matter to me, really. It's a tired defense.

And the way I see it, there's certain behavior that's unacceptable, no matter what generation you hail from, or how you were raised. But then again, I'm known for not taking anybody's bullshit, not even my own family's.

Where Jason took up for the older generation, including my bully of a grandmother, I can recall telling him, as well as her, at different times: "I'm the new generation" in a get-with-the-program tone of voice, a statement which not only expressed my point of view, but justified my rebellious streak.

That November, after much anticipation, I remember sitting up all night long waiting for the election results to come in. To my surprise, the candidate I'd rooted for actually won this time around. And for more-than-usual personal reasons, I related to the victor of the election more-so than any other President or candidate before him.

Barack Obama's victory over John McCain was a big night for me, I remember.

Rafael called me that night and, not thinking about what he was saying, it seemed, he said that now "black people couldn't complain". It was an insulting comment which I didn't like, and neither did my mom, but we didn't let that bring down our night. That was a good night.

That December, late in the month, I took my GED test. It was a two-part/two-day deal, but I ended up finishing the test ahead of most of my classmates.

All I had to do now was wait for the results.

Christmas Eve that year was memorable. My mom had fixed a Turducken that she'd worked tirelessly on the entire night before. I recall, while she was doing that, I was creating a very special montage with the characters of the, by then, aready cancelled Journeyman. It was called "Everything Changes".

Christmas was a very good experience the next day. My mom and I finished making the Christmas dinner that morning, and I'd finished up on the montage that I was working on the night before.

My grandmother picked us up from our building and we spent the rest of the holidays (about two weeks) at my grandparents house.

The only thing that was missing was the test results for my GED....

2009
The year started off, a few days after New Year's Day, with my great-grandmother fainting and being taken to the hospital.

We returned home, and Supernatural came back from the holiday hiatus not long afterwards with "Family Remains". The episode was good, but I remember being more excited to see "Death Takes A Holiday".

It wasn't long before I finally got my test results in the mail. I was nervous to open them at first, but when I did, boy, was I surprised!

I'd passed with extremely high flying colors. Years prior, Rafael and I made a bet that whoever would get out of school first would win fifty dollars, but of course, he couldn't "remember" making that deal.

Everyone was proud of me for about a week or so, especially since nobody thought I'd make it out of school on time, let alone, six months ahead of schedule. I even remember Jason projecting that I'd get out of school two years late. But with my resolve, once again, I prove him and everyone else dead wrong. And to top it off, I did it on my own terms, which was a double Fuck You to all of the people who under-estimated me.


Continued in Part II....