“Write as if your parents are dead.”
Dead Parents is a blog about my weird childhood stories. Another one of these? Yeah, well, my childhood was a bit different than most. Born to missionary parents in Colombia, we moved to America when I was very young, and pretty frequently after that. As a child, my dad was an eccentric fundamentalist pastor and my mom was a closeted lesbian working through library school while struggling to hold together a family based on ideas she didn’t believe in anymore. Pastors, especially weird ones, get paid little, so we went back and forth between rougher areas and the fringes of suburbia, bringing along with us our pretentions to the middle class.
So what happened to me? I adjusted to different environments quickly and incompletely. As contradictory as my upbringing was, I was even more so: I dressed like a preppy and spoke with a cholo accent, I told people they’d go to hell if they didn’t accept Christ and tried to sell porn, I showed up to the SAT still drunk and got a 2160, I made friends quickly and lost touch with almost all of them, I lied a whole hell of a lot. My young adult years, like most people’s, have been spent trying to resolve all of this.
Lucky for you, though, you don’t have to hear any more of it! This blog is a chronicle of the crazy stuff I used to do, and most of it’s pretty damn entertaining. I’ve been telling these stories to friends for years, because I feel like I don’t make sense without them. It’s time for them all to have a home.
My parents are alive and I love them both, but there’s no way I can put these stories online with their reactions in mind. That’s what that quote’s about. For a long time, I was scared to start a blog like this, but now I figure what the hell? The more I have to hide, the more time I’ll spend mixed up. (Also, I have lots of free time.)