Confess · 29 April 2002
I was born on the second of June, 1966, in Richmond, BC – a suburb of Vancouver. I have a brother who is two years older; he always will be. My father worked with electricity, my mother worked with money, at a bank. School was miserable.
When I was twelve my father built a new house for us, the first to be completed in a new and purportedly prestigious subdivision; for months it stood alone among empty lots.
For years I watched television, listened to music and stared into the middle distance. I played rugby for awhile – assigned to the second row – and hated it. I tried basketball, baseball and soccer, but none took. Though I haven’t touched one since, I read several hundred science fiction books before I turned fifteen. I learned guitar.
More than once I fell in love; having no idea how to act, or what to do with this information, I usually kept it to myself. Sharing it was sometimes disastrous.
I never finished high school, or took a single class afterward. I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
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