Growing up in a plaid flannel teenage wasteland

Plaid flannel grunge

Not a day went by where I wasn’t decked out in some plaid flannel

It took me almost 13 years to discover that I loved – that I lived for – music. Blame it on the fact that when I was a young child, my mom’s radio tendencies skewed toward classical music, Neil Diamond or Katrina and the Waves. Or perhaps my dad is to blame for my lack of interest in music as a child. He showed zero interest in music then, and to this day I have no idea if he prefers Dave Matthews or David Lee Roth. All I know about my father’s musical tastes is that he vomited during a Kenny G show many years ago, and for that, I am a proud daughter.  Continue reading

Get your hot dogs!



Having been born seven years after my brother, I am what you might call an “accident.” And like many children born during the 70’s, my brother came onto the scene not quite nine months after my parents said “I do” while wearing their lovely, hippie formal wear. My dad rocked some major sideburns and my mom walked down a daisy-covered aisle wearing a simple white cotton dress that she sewed herself. Continue reading