South Carolina

I still remember the first time I heard about the "Millennium." I was 8 years old and eating fries at In-N-Out as I listened to the adults talk about this big event. Finally I concluded that the Millennium was a place they were planning on going to on New Years Eve that was going to "change everything."

Though I was wrong about what the Millennium was, Y2K did change many things. Personally, it was the first year I remembered traveling. I was born in a small town in Illinois and moved to California when I was around 16 months old. I had also flown to Iran as a child but being so young, those memories are inorganic creations from photographs and stories shared. However, at the start of the new decade was the first time I truly remembered the process of traveling.

In the summer of 2000, we headed to Charlotte, South Carolina to visit my aunt and her family. The plane ride felt like a roller coaster - while my mother felt sick during turbulence, I threw my hands up and welcomed the butterflies to dance in my belly. Once we landed, I was reunited with my cousin, Laleh, who has been the closest thing to an older sister in my life. Given our ages, it shouldn't be surprising to hear that I annoyed her while she tormented me. After she frightened me with the tale of Bloody Mary, I started leaving the door wide open when I used the bathroom fearing that she would appear in the mirror. But when I was scolded for a lack of manners, I began secretly taking a kitchen knife with me whenever I used the restroom, to be prepared in case Mary came out of the mirror. This habit lasted for a few weeks.

One evening we were playing outside when the wind started to pick up. A few trashcans were blown over and I could barely hold my balance; the butterflies returned. We ran inside. That was the first time I heard the word "hurricane." The windows rattled and I watched debris being blown across the yard. Not realizing that the hurricane could potentially be dangerous, I was relaxed and content watching a Gilligan's Island marathon on Nick at Nite. Suddenly, just as the Skipper and Gilligan were arguing, the power went out and we were consumed in darkness. For a moment, everyone was silent and I remember being unable to see my hands and only hearing the pounding of wind against the house. It was the first time I wanted the butterflies to leave.

The parents lit some candles and we spent the rest of the night sitting in a circle talking with each other. This is something I cherish because nowadays, it seems most of the time everyone's mind is partly present and partly absorbed in their digital life. Back then we didn't mind entertaining ourselves. Somehow Laleh convinced me to braid her hair in exchange for getting to blow out ALL the candles when the lights came back on. The power finally returned and I ran to extinguish each flame. However, the candles had been burning for a while so there was a nice puddle of melted wax. As I approached the first candle, I huffed like the big bad wolf, only to have hot wax splash onto my face. Luckily, I was close to the sink and instinctively threw my face under cold water as the adults panicked.
Thankfully I do not have any noticeable scars. I did, however, get over the childhood obsession of blowing out every candle you see.

On the upside, never again did waiters have to relight our candle multiple times while my parents sat embarrassed at a restaurant.