I grew up on the road, traversing all across America as my parents tried to answer the age-old question, "How many powdered donuts from the continental breakfast can we fit inside this glovebox?" I was a mime for four years, but craved job security. So I transitioned to writing. In 2022, I fell into a coma from previously undiagnosed type 1 diabetes. I'm awake now though, and doing just fine. I love goats, sour apples, and Wes Anderson.