Friendship equals no appointment required.

I was fourteen years-old, singing and strumming away on my six-string acoustic guitar to the songs of the sixties and seventies limited to the aforementioned “Cocaine,” “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and “House of the Rising Sun.” I had no idea Lola was a man and someone else was glad they were a man. I always tell people, “I’ve been to that desert. I’ve been on that horse and he did have a name, I just was never allowed to tell anyone.

I am a latchkey kid who gets relentlessly teased every day at school. I want to die. I try to overdose on four aspirin.

If you love me and I’m feeling sad, please buy me paper towels, preferably Bounty in a six-pack or greater. Having a cabinet full of paper towels gives me a feeling of abundance, so please do this for me if you love me. Won’t you? Paper towels equals happy Weird Girl.

Growing up with a feminist mother was confusing and, at times, felt simply abnormal. But if my mom wasn’t who she was, I wouldn’t be who I am. As matter of fact, women like my mother were the pioneers who taught many of us perseverance and endurance.