Lost Dogs

I officially moved to LA in February of 2004. Although my parents had met in Los Angeles, they attempted to give me a normal life by raising me in the arctic tundra of Minneapolis, MN. It was anything but normal, but alas, they tried. My father moved back to LA when I was eighteen, and I hung around Minneapolis for a few years, trying to lock it down with the thirty-seven year old man I was dating. It’s not like I wanted to marry him, or have children, or any of that… I just wanted to make him love me. Once I had succeeded in doing so, I was ready to go off and live my real life. I’d always known I was meant for more than what Minnesota could offer me.

I had just turned twenty-one, but I already felt old. I thought I knew a lot about life. I did know some things. I knew enough to know that I could make shit happen. I was a do-er. A mover and a shaker. A manifestor.

Sometimes the wires got crossed, but I’d seen evidence of my powers my whole life- I had achieved the impossible in making …