Born in a frigid Florida February, twenty-eight years ago to lovely folks. My mother went into labor decided to take a shower and do her hair, because god forbid she doesnt have clean underwear on and some blush before birthing a child. My father, an infinitely patient man, arrived from work, waited for her to finish and took her to the hospital, where he sat in the waiting room and passed out Cuban cigars.

 

Being an only child my parents were cautious not to spoil me terribly. My imaginary friends created a world for me that never was going to become a reality, a house filled with siblings. I begged for many years for a sibling until I became a teenager and realized that I would have to baby-sit and that seemed like a hassle.

 

My public education was a solid foundation to many years of higher learning. I went around trying to figure out what I needed to do with a degree in the sociology of religion and figured that teaching would do for a while.

 

Someday, I will be the co-owner of a burrito empire and be sitting drinking some pink drink with an umbrella in it on an island paradise somewhere. Until then, I write within the pages.