Dark Kid

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Growing up, I was a dark kid -- I looked much more middle-eastern than I do as an adult. Today people think I'm white, but back then when kids attacked me they'd call me a little camel jockey, sand-nigger, or stuff like that. This was a bit ironic since the rest of my family was blonde. When people would look at us together and give me a lingering look, I'd joke, \"I look like the mailman\" and they'd laugh and laugh, and my Mom would scowl. I said it because it always got the double-good reaction (entertaining others at my Mom's expense).


It was only later that I discovered that my Step-Dad was my Step-Dad, and my Mom had been lying to me my whole life (11 years). This probably wouldn't have gone over as poorly, but my Mom was Italian and in sales, and always had a looser relationship with the truth than I did. While I was a little genius kid that was driven nuts by my Mom, Grandma, and Uncle's ability to just adapt truth to fit their arguments or make themselves look good, and others look bad. Thus, I had the purism of youth, combined with the purism of backlashing against others willingness to distort truth.

I wasn't much for photos, nor was my family. I think my Mom was embarrassed by the awkwardness of me looking different from everyone else. It turns out my ID cards captured me at different ages.

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Me

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Ari Sabouni - A short summary of experiences I've had, that makes me who I am. Understanding through anecdotes.
Favorites : CarsComputer ExperiencesElectric BikeFavorite BooksFavorite VideosHomesLife ExperiencesMedicalMemes-MinePetsRefrigerator Magnet PoetryStory of usTimelineWork Experiences
Medical : 1980 Black Widow1982 ⚕️Nose Job1995 ⚕️Heart Surgery2003 JaredBroken ArmsCars greatest hitsColonoscopyPhobias and AnxietyPoison Oak
Experiences : 1986 Just a burger1987 Skydiving2001.09.11 The Towers Fell9/11Air RiflesAirline AttendantGetting my CCWHousing and Urban DevelopmentHow I spent Christmas Vacation (1997)Jury Duty 1998Jury Duty 2013Pulling a gunSpeed Traps 2002Suicide is PainlessThinking outside the boxTired of suppressing my whitenessWhat’s shooting like?

Life

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Life experiences make us who we are (or influence it). Here's a few stories from my past that made me who I am, or at least influenced it or reflected it.