The Nursery Rhyme Ends When A Spider

Like Most Citizens Of Popular And International Urban Centres, I Don't Take Advantage Of The Cultural Opportunities. Perhaps This Comes From Growing Up In Suburbia. Home Is Where You Eat, Sleep, Read, Watch Television And Ignore Your Parents. It Is Not Where You Go To The Ballet And Then Attend A Heated Panel Discussion About It Afterwards.

I Prefer To Record All Traumas And Save Them For Later, Playing Them Over And Over So They Can Haunt Me For A Disproportionate Number Of Weeks To Come. It's Very Healthy.

Every Day Of My Adult Life, I Have Worn At Least One Piece Of Jewelry From My Maternal Grandmother's Collection, All Of Which Were Manufactured By Famed Danish Silversmith Georg Jensen. To The Naked Eye, I Am Either A Jensen Loyalist Or A Grandmother Loyalist. Really I Am Just A Pretty Things Loyalist.

Because, Ten-year-olds Of The World, You Shouldn't Believe What Your Teachers Tell You About The Beauty And Specialness And Uniqueness Of You. Or, Believe It, Little Snowflake, But Know It Won't Make A Bit Of Difference Until After Puberty. It's Newton's Lost Law: Anything That Makes You Unique Later Will Get Your Chocolate Milk Stolen And Your Eye Blackened As A Kid. Won't It, Sebastian? Oh, Yes, It Will, My Little Mandarin Chinese-learning, Poe-reciting, High-top-wearing Friend. God Bless You, Wherever You Are.

I Don't Really Think Of My Essays As Being About Myself. I Know It Sounds Insane, But I Just Don't Think Of Them As A Memoir. They're Essays; They're Not An Autobiography.