17. To the gods I owe good grandparents, good parents, good brothers, and teachers, profs, boyfriends, cousins, book groups, mani-pedi-curists, and friends good (and comical) almost without exception.
I rarely fell out with any of them, except for Victoria, (at her insistence), in spite of a highly emotional temperament that could very well have thrown me towards the Haagen-Dazs.
To a couple of them, too, I owe it that the responsibility of the lady next door, who took care of me when I was 5, was brought to an early end, stopping an unfortunate reliance on Campbell's tomato soup. Thanks to other allies, I was not impatient to reach womanhood, but spent plenty of time wearing vintage clothes, traveling, moodling about with friends, reading their secret notebooks and listening to their bands late into the night.
I send thanks also that under my mother, the aproned, DIYer / Empress of our house, I was cured of some of my pomposity, and made to realize that my life was likely to be lived without boy toys
(different from having a boy collection in one's 20s),
Armani suits, sunny vacations every winter, and outward splendour of that kind, but that one's lifestyle can be decently simplified (almost like pre-children days) without losing the odd Cashmere sweater, and bossiness needful to lead a household.
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