I was born on 6th January, 1971. In some European countries and in South America, it�s a holiday � The Epiphany. When the alleged 3 Kings visited the alleged Jesus. In Italy they call it the Befana. And in Russia, I forget � but similar story. An old witch scorned the birth of Herr Jesus and when she tries to go, she misses the happy couple mit kind, so she�s condemned to spend the rest of her life searching�Totally stupid f***ing story! But I�ve been to Italy on my birthday � I can pretend to be all imperious because a nation is celebrating my birthday. Ha ha.
I have bi-polar disorder. All through my life I had the tendency to get really depressed, and I had no idea what was wrong with me � I just thought I was normal, so it wasn�t diagnosed until 5 years ago. Then it was surprisingly easy to deal with, and not a big deal at all.
When I was little, I liked to spread my legs apart and then bang my knees together. Not that hard, but it was probably some early bi-polar related thing. My grandfather used to look at me as if he were trying to figure out what size straight-jacket I�d take!
When I was in the 3rd grade, my school wanted me tested to see if I could be in the gifted program � I took the test and failed miserably. They told my mother I failed, and she told them - �Well, just get him in a room and let him talk and that�ll convince you.� I did that, and I was in the gifted program.
I was Out at my school when I was 14. I didn�t like pretending to be something I wasn�t. At the very least I thought that some kids would be afraid to go anywhere near me � this was true to an extent. From time to time I was terrorized, but my grandfather had taught me some boxing, so I was always prepared to defend myself.
Once, this christian kid just came up and cold-cocked me on the nose. So I got up, hit him back and ended up dislocating his jaw! I was called �fag� a lot, but usually it didn�t bother me. Hitting that guy made me seem a bit like Travis Bickle I guess! I ran on the track team, but I was artsy � and a fag. People just thought I was a serious nutter. Terrible days. I hated school and often got drunk before going in the morning.
When I was 15, I worked as a volunteer at a museum. Odd as it may seem, there were/are museums at Fresno. They just really suck. I did learn a lot of useful stuff. Once, I accidentally broke a pre-Columbian piece of pottery, and tore a corner of a Warhol litho. Managed to cover it up. Sometimes I imagine someone discovering my �mistakes�. Not likely though. The tear wasn�t that big � and it was 70�s Warhol so who gives a shit? |
