About Me...Let's See 

Where to begin? 

I'll try to be as truthful as possible without revealing too much. Only people who know me or pay me lots of money get that priviledge. 

The Early Years 

I was born and raised in New York City, the youngest of two kids. Growing up, there were two things I loved more than life itself, my mother and Kermit the Frog. The former was responsible from my love of culture, learning and general strong moral and ethical fiber. The latter fueled my initial love for fantasy, humor and fun. 

Although my parents stayed together for almost twenty years, largely because of us children, my father was never really in the picture, emotionally or otherwise. My most enduring and endearing male figure in my childhood was my big brother. He was my protector, my savior and my playmate. He would have given his life for me if I asked him to. The one thing my father did give up during his eighteen year presence in my life was my absolute love of music. I often comment that for the first six years of my life, I thought I was living in 1976. Every weekend, my father would take out his collection of vinyl records and play the Beatles, Creedance Clearwater Revival, Santana, Carole King, James Brown, Aretha Franklin and countless other fabulous singers. I was the only six year old kid who knew all the words too "Fortunate Son" and who even knew that Eric Clapton was in a band called Cream. And for this one gift, I am forever thankful. 

The Middle Years 

It wasn't until I was ten years old that my life became somewhat complicated. I realized and had to deal with several facts. 

1. I was sexual abused as a child by a friend of the family.
2. My father was an alcoholic who verbal abused my mother every chance he got.
3. I was most definitely atttracted to men and women.


Now, any one of those things could probably send anyone over the edge, and the combination of these three hard to deal with things send me spiraling down into four years of clinical depression. I went through months of living hell, dealing with pain as best as I could. I would cut myself to help externalize the internal pain I was feeling. At least physical pain would heal. My mother noticed I was drowning in a deep sea of depression, but she thought the answer was as simple as trying to make me happy. She finally suggested I see a therapist, but before she could take action, I found my salvation. 

I started to write, draw and write lengthy journal entries about how much my life sucked. And believe it or not.. it helped. After a few months of self-imposed soul searching through desparately painful, day long writing sessions, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I finally realized I was okay with what was going on in my life. I finally realized the things swirling around me and threatening to eat me alive where things that were out of my control, things that weren't my fault. I got better. I am still getting better. I have my good days. I have my bad days. I am not ashamed of my mood swings. They are me. 

High School Daze 

...and just when my life was getting back into order...everything changed! I fell in love...with a girl. Oh yes, the old "falling for a straight girl who flirts with you" thing we all seem to go through every now and again. She rocked my world. She was strong, confident, beautiful... everything I wasn't. I thought we would be friends forever and I would be in love with her forever. Until the day, she got a boyfriend and all friendship went out the window. My senior year of high school was a living hell because of her. But, it wouldn't be high school without the drama, right. 

I was the "cool" high school geek. I was friends with the popular kids (they thought I was smart and seemed to respect me for me). I was their personal counselor and peer tutor. For some reason, I become the girl other girls would go to for sex/relationship advice. They came to me with their pregnancy scares, condom questions and general relationship advice... which was completely odd considering I was the high school virgin. 

I graduated third in my class and after hours of consideration, I decided to follow my heart and attend NYU Tish School of the Arts. And life got interesting... 

College Calls 

I became a film geek. I paid thousands of dollars a year to watch movies and write long, lengthy papers on them. I wrote papers about Fatal Attraction, Paris is Burning, Blade Runner, Jaws ... hell, I even worked in a paper about Xena: Warrior Princess. It was quite fun. In college, I finally got settled in my own skin. I became comfortable with the woman I was becoming and the girl I was. I was content to be by myself. And for the first time in my life, I was surrounded by people who let me be myself. 

College wasn't all that exciting... aside from the stalking escapades involving Gillian Anderson and Lucy Lawless, things were pretty normal. 

Working for Living 

Unfortunately, the party came to a crashing hault when I found out I was to graduate a semester early. So, I entered the work force six months before I was planning to. I hated every second of it. I got a desk job, coding HTML for a magazine publishing company. Work is not fulfilling, but with loan bills up to my eyeballs... I am a 9 to 5 whore. And now, you know all you need to know. Go in peace.