Horchata
Life at home is so insanely bland that I sometimes want to gouge my eyes out just for a change of pace. It’s not a bad life. My parents are divorced, but whose aren’t these days? My mom and my step-dad are both career-driven Gen X’ers who are progressive enough to be accepting of my orientation, but obsessed enough with climbing the corporate ladder that they’re rarely home for dinner.
My biological father has a pretty cool girlfriend involved in the local music scene. He pays his child support on time and she occasionally gets me back stage at some rather fabulous shows. Really, I shouldn’t be complaining.
But it’s so predictable.
“Maybe you should take a gap year,” my mother once suggested. “Go off and see the world before you have to settle down and work for a living.”
Wo
