welcome to the waldorf

I knew from an early age that I was...offbeat. That my family was this strange portrait of farce love story. It could have been the honest answers my Mother gave me...

Age 6:
"Mom, are you and Dad going to get divorced?"

"Not yet, honey."

What comic relief. If I didn't know any better, I would think that my parents had an arranged marriage backed by a lavish dowry. Or did they...

In any case, I enjoyed a most privileged childhood with lots of friends, an unhealthy amount of toys, and stretch limos. Yes, I said stretch limos, and yes, I lived in middle American suburbia. Not the Waldorf Astoria (as my mother always used to say).

I'm not saying I have problems that no one else has; I've been cheated on, lied to, left for dead. (Kidding about that last part, but if you've ever dated someone who does heroin, you know what I'm talking about) But the actions I've chosen to take afterward, are what baffle me. 

My life up until now has been somewhat of a double negative. But hey, who's complaining?

Oh yeah, I am.