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You know what sucks?

Being told by your coach that even though you are the best in your position, that you’re too old to play JV when a prep took your varsity spot… AFTER going to/leading all of the practices AND preseason AND being on the team last year.

Especially after being led to believe that you were going to make the team.

Yeah. Véte a la chingada… “jefe” no te mereces respeto de mi, güey.

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OHMYGOD IT EXISTSSSS YESSSS!!!

Derp

I actually don’t know how I came up with this title. What I feel like writing about has nothing to do with derping.

I miss people. I miss everyone from school. I miss this summer. I miss the best three weeks of my life.

I miss a lot of things - sunshine, snow, faith, love, friendship, carelessness, touch, snow, and difference.

Something has happened to me this summer - some strange personal development I didn’t see coming. Some may call it maturity, some may call it regression, I guess I just call it change.

Maybe part of it is that I’ve been in a relationship for what feels like a long time and am super committed. Maybe its because they’re really far away right now - maybe that is what is making me think so hard. I am usually the person who finds something interesting, I get possessed by it, and then it is no longer satisfying to me: this person has defied that “Law of Claudz.” Maybe that is something (one of many things) that makes them so special to me.

Another thing is in simply how I have begun to identify myself.

I’m not “Claw-di-ya” anymore. Call me Claudz, call me “Clawed” those are names I have had forever; Claw-di-ya” is out. I’ve always hated that pronounciation. I’ve grown out of it. Now I am “Clow-di-ya” what I have deemed to be my proper name. In fact, that is my proper name. I am named after my great grandfather, Claudio Rotondo. Anglicizing my name doesn’t do my family justice. Some may say it is because of my immersion in hispanic culture, which might be true, but I see it as my REAL name.

My real name is who I have become. I am Claudia Rotondo Trafton: I acknowledge both of my family names for my mother’s side is just as important as my father’s side. I am half Italian, half New England Yankee - and somewhere in there, I am hispanic. I don’t care what my genetics say, I am hispanic because it is a world I love. It is a world I grew up with, it is simply a part of who I am. I spent most of my in utero time in México - I was fed from that world, in utero I lived it, I returned at 7, returned at 12, and again at 17. I was meant to be there. I belong there as well as here.

I feel as if the Méxican way of life has been in me ever since before I was born. I feel love in the scent of Cuernavaca, strength in the bay of Puerto Vallarta and real community at the Zócalo in México City. This is why I travel. I travel to these places to find myself.

I love New Hampshire: I love colorful fall foliage and the smell and stillness of a cold New England winter. The crunch of my boots in the snow, the silence of falling ice crystals. This is also a part of me.

I am merely multidimensional. I am like anyone. I’m just beginning to be aware of these parts of me.

I am someone who has put themself in a world they belong in, just not traditionally.

I am a lover of what some call ugly creatures.

I am altruistic.

I am sensitive, sometimes too much.

I am empathetic and sympathetic.

I am critical.

I am passionate.

I am easily upset.

I am unconditonally loving.

I am Claudia Rotondo Trafton.

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