Review: Nerd Do Well

Nerd Do Well by Simon Pegg

peggnerddowell

The dividing line between my furious childhood and my equally, if more problematically, furious adolescence (which I like to call the Wombat Years) is, undoubtedly, my preteen travels, a series of trips where I was essentially a large piece of angry luggage. (Anger was a big theme for the young Clare.) I really hate talking about it, as I feel like any way I try to express what a negative impact it had on me is either going to sound incredibly selfish (“Poor me! I had to travel as a child!”) or incredibly ungrateful (“How could my parents take me along with them?”). Instead of trying to navigate those waters, my coping mechanism has been repression. For the life of me, I could not tell you dates or locations; it’s just a blur of painful homesickness, fatigue, and endless waiting. (And anger, obviously, but that wasn’t a related condition, just a constant one.)

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