It's genetic (part 4)
My new boyfriend, Jason, a self-described "straight edge punk rock skater vegetarian socialist," was a frequent customer at the record...
It's genetic (part 3)
For the last two years I had been driving a small, ten-year-old, pumpkin-yellow Datsun King Cab pickup truck, which I called Fido because...
It's genetic (part 2)
During my first year of college when I was eighteen, I went to live with my Grama Geri. Grampa Bill had died four years before, and ever...
It's genetic (part 1)
Like most people, through much of my childhood I had two sets of grandparents whom I adored. One by one, they drifted off into the ether,...
