Dear Diary - Summer 1987
I often look back on my childhood, or rather, lack there of. I'm not bitter, not by any means. I wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone though the trials and tribulations of teenage angst mixed with volatile alcoholic behavior. My mother, not me. I wouldn't know how to survive on my own, on the streets or be able to function day to day adult responsibilities at the age of 16. While other teenagers my age were getting ready for Homecoming and who would claim their virginity that night, or what type of slutty kitten they were going to be for Halloween, I was figuring out hows to balance high school tennis, Drama production of Our Town and still work enough in order to be able to afford my weekly rent. It was only sixty dollars a week, to live in a boarding rook type hotel, that was above the Bowery Theater on Third and Elm Street, downtown San Diego. It consisted of a single room with a sink, and a bathroom down the hall which was to be...