C'est moi: My flight attendant Madre first met Padre on a plane. Born in 'Bama. Got beat up at recess. Running was (once, and will hopefully become again) joyful after an asthmatic childhood. Grew up with MD Dad describing gruesome surgical procedures at the dinner table. Baptism by dunking. Visited relatives in the Deep South. Teen years = dark, dark, dark. Christian prep school. Coming out (in a pink house, no less) was messy. Waited tables with drag queens and diesel dykes. Interned wide-eyed next to half-naked swimmers at the Atlanta Olympics. Greenwich Village, home for 1/2 a decade. Dot com employment = eventual unemployment. Greeted the new Millennium at the Pyramids. The rare homo who's self-conscious dancing. 9/11 and the Atlanta park bombing tore me apart. Camping Peru's Inca Trail to Machu Picchu healed me. Daily journals for a dozen years. A lovely family sprinkled along the East coast. I've had the privilege to enjoy wonderful friendships, too many of which have come and gone or scattered to the four winds. I look young for my age. After 5 years in LA, I moved to Brooklyn in '08 and resurfaced from a (tidal) wave of life changes in the second half of '12, topped off by Sandy and the election! The year was one for the books... And perhaps you'll add to the storyline.
Postscript (4/2/13): My life has continued to change at a frenetic pace since the end of '12 -- in fact, I'm experiencing a renaissance of sorts: practicing meditation, learning to cook and journaling again (so therapeutic); I quit drinking for now and am eating healthier: down 23 pounds in 3+ months! (40+ lbs. since LA.) Exercising daily, for the first time in years. Next on the agenda: rethinking my professional goals, resuming running & yoga, and volunteering for the Trevor Project (which I always wanted to do). This is honestly among the happiest and most exciting times of my life.