I spent the formidable years of my life growing up in close proximity to the beach, where my heart still lies unless someone has picked it up, until my parents moved us into the country where the public schools had "Take Your Tractor to School Day". I never had a tractor, nor did I ever go to public school, so I never knew what I wasn't missing out on in the first place.
At the tenderly ripe age of 22 I was lured to the bright lights of Las Vegas with promises of jobs and $300 a month rent. I would be rolling in dough, they said. I would have to beat the ladies off with sticks, they said. They lied. Or, they never said things like that at all and I'm making it all up. I assure you this isn't the case. But it might be.
Fast forward one year later and you'll find me moving back to Virginia. (And, please, do find me if you can move forward through time, because you're someone I probably want to know.) It was around this time I started to doubt the existence of God. Doubt turned to questions. Answers moved me to turn my back and walk away, which I did on my 25th Birthday.
My new-found belief, which I like to call "agnostically-deist", led me to move to a place that was more liberal and tolerant of people who doubted the existence of God. I had chosen to move to Tennessee...where God apparently likes to speak through billboards. All of this leads up to the next chapter of my story, conveniently titled, "What I'm doing with my life".