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I come from Fontana, California, the birthplace of the Hell's angels, and, as I always like to note, the only burned out steel town on the west coast. It was interesting enough place to warrant a chapter in what I am told is a well-respected City-Planning/History book called City of Quartz, where the author noted that Fontana still has crazed pet dogs loose in the streets at night. Until I read that, I thought every person in America had a childhood filled with memories of running down the street to get away from scary dogs or peering around each street corner before walking, trying to make sure there were no dogs around. Another thing I thought as a Fontana youth, was that the normal side effects of running around and playing was a burning sensation in one's lungs when one breathed in. But it was just the horrible horrible smog. The hospital always had a sign where they posted the current air quality and the sign almost always posted said, "second stage alert." In Junior High, some of my friends stole the sign, and said they were going to start a band called "second stage alert." I don't think that ever happened. If all this has conveyed that I am claiming a rough and tumble, 50 cent style upbringing based on my Fontana days, I'm afraid i don't deserve any street cred. My parents owned a very successful liquor store in fontana called F.A.D. market, and everything was pretty much fine. It was called F.A.D. market because the prior owners were named Fran, Ann, and David, and had bought an expensive lighted sign that my dad was not about to pay to replace. F.A.D. market was robbed at gunpoint and knifepoint while I was a kid, the latter while I was there, so I still think I deserve some street cred. When i was in Tenth grade, we moved to dismal Temecula, California, a vast expanse of cookie-cutter homes and strip malls. Our new liquor store there was named after me, i think to guilt me into working there all the time. People who live in tract homes don't go to convenience stores, so the place did horribly, or maybe it was because the eighties were over. I think the most noteworthy thing about my early days, if you knew me now, is how horribly uptight I was. I thought everyone was committing moral wrongs by doing pretty much anything but studying and watching sitcoms. I also had decided in high school that I was Republican and had a Bush/ Quale '92 poster on my wall. I went to college in San Diego and began to loosen up substantially, and, though I would never label myself by any taglines that go with political parties or general political categories, I soon molded into my current polical stance where anything Susan Sarandan says, I always think, "totally." I then went to Philadelphia for 5 years. Philly rules, as does the east coast! The minute I got there, it was like I had found my people, having previously not known I had been kidnaped at birth and raised among citizens of another planet. Finally, two and a half years ago, I moved back to San Diego to take what I thought was a dream job fighting the man. Though it is no Philly, I do love San Diego. It is beautiful and laid-back. And while it is hard to ever feel content while you actually get what you want (I mean, people with no problems are so boring), it only takes a little stepping out of myself to realize that my job has been super-duper awesome unbelievable. But in the interest of having something to worry about, I am hoping to leave soon and take a new job in a new part of the country.

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