I’m Angelos, might as well start somewhere, I’m form Brooklyn NY, I wouldn’t say born and raised however because I’ve spent a lot of my life living in Greece. Greece is awesome. I love going there. I’ve spent every summer of my life there, and then some. A lot of my family is there, so I pretty stay busy while I’m there. I have family in all different parts of Greece, but my favorite place to be is my dad’s home town, Amaliada. There is where I spend the majority of my summer, and my cousin always try and make sure it will either be a summer I won’t forget, or a summer I will always be trying to remember, or any combination of the two.
Being Greek I am born knowing a couple of things: first I have to love soccer, it is mandatory that every Greek appreciates soccer; my favorite team is Panathinaikos, no thanks to my cousins of course who are almost all fans of this team. You also are in love with the beach, if you’re Greek. Given that you have some knowledge of how to swim form birth, it’s a great thing having the beach literally five minuets away. Finally, as you get older you are baptized in the art of drinking ouzo and tsipouro (Greek brandy); if you can handle both of these you can pretty much drink anything.
Now this only happens for two months of the year. So what happens the rest of the year…mostly school, chilling with friends, working on the cars, work in general, and the occasional camping trip where all my stories come from. The best time I have here is with my friends, especially when we are camping. When we go camping we can just relax. Nothing bothers us. It’s kind of like all the stupid bullshit we deal with on a daily basis goes away for that weekend. My friends have definitely gotten me through sum pretty hard times. Especially my friend Con. This kid and I have been friends pretty much from birth. That’s an eighteen year on going friendship. He’s always had my back and I’ll always have his. Now that’s a little harder since he goes to Virginia Tech and I’m up here at Baruch, but that is not a reason to get rid of that kind of friendship. Any story I tell he is usually the one in it with me. It’s kind of a funny thing. This kid would spend more time at my house than he spent home. Maybe that’s why he can get away with calling my mom “mom”, just playing; he only does that to be funny.
