I'm the youngest of three children, the only one that did not require some sort of fertilization

treatment.

I was put into child care at a very young age, about six months.

My best guess, I've never asked my mom about that, while she finished up her college

classes and her master's degree in teaching.

She started teaching at the age of 39 as a preschool teacher

while my brother and I were still in daycare.

My childhood is very foggy,

and memories are mostly derived from pictures

that I remember seeing later in life.

The regular day-to-day experiences are all but lost in my memory

up until about the time I started

high school. I was overshadowed by my brother, who was two years older than me, who excelled at

making friends, who was popular, and his interests in music and drama followed the interests of my

parents. My interests were more on the mechanical side of things.

I liked working on cars and trucks,

and I excelled at things like math and science,

but found it hard to make new friends in pretty much any setting.

I went through school by drifting,

always getting good grades and did not ever need help with homework.

Graduated near the top of my high school class, I went on to college without really the proper

coaching or guidance that I needed. My parents were those that subscribed to the, you should do

...