Тонкое искусство пофигизма

           Myparentsquarantinedmeathome.Iwastohavenofriendsfortheforeseeablefuture.Havingbeenexpelledfromschool,Iwastobehomeschooledfortherestoftheyear.MymommademegetahaircutandthrewoutallofmyMarilynMansonandMetallicashirts(which,foranadolescentin1998,wastantamounttobeingsentencedtodeathbylameness).Mydaddraggedmetohisofficewithhiminthemorningsandmademefilepapersforhoursonend.Oncehomeschoolingwasover,Iwasenrolledinasmall,privateChristianschool,where—andthismaynotsurpriseyou—Ididn’texactlyfitin.

           AndjustwhenIhadfinallycleanedupmyactandturnedinmyassignmentsandlearnedthevalueofgoodclericalresponsibility,myparentsdecidedtogetdivorced.

           Itellyouallofthisonlytopointoutthatmyadolescencesuckeddonkeyballs.Ilostallofmyfriends,mycommunity,mylegalrights,andmyfamilywithinthespanofaboutninemonths.Mytherapistinmytwentieswouldlatercallthis“somerealtraumaticshit,”andIwouldspendthenextdecade-and-changeworkingonunravelingitandbecominglessofaself-absorbed,entitledlittleprick.

           Theproblemwithmyhomelifebackthenwasnotallofthehorriblethingsthatweresaidordone;rather,itwasallofthehorriblethingsthatneededtobesaidanddonebutweren’t.MyfamilystonewallsthewayWarrenBuffettmakesmoneyorJennaJamesonfucks:we’rechampionsatit.Thehousecouldhavebeenburningdownaroundusanditwouldhavebeenmetwith,“Ohno,everything’sfine.