I mean, my actual life doesn't start in LDN.
But, the writing and drawing about my life does.
In the Spring of 1990 I am 7 years old.
Buck teeth, below 10th percentile in weight, with a reading level of an average 7th grader.
I love fairies, ballet, Little House on the Prairie, musicals, drawing, and obviously, reading.
When you're 7 there really isn't such a thing as being dorky, weird, or a nerd.
You haven't yet started hearing the voices creeping in making you feel self conscious.
So, there is absolutely no shame in my game and I roll very, very deep with my passions.
My Mom has planned to take me to London and I am so excited.
I already know all of Henry VIII's wives names, in order of marriage, and how they died so I honestly feel as though I am going to fit RIGHT in.
For the trip my Mom decides to give me a small, floral, blank notebook to keep a diary of the trip. It is the very first of what will become many, many diaries, journals, notebooks, pieces of paper... all that chronicle what has, thus far, been the life of one girl human.