I can't forget things, or ignore them-bad things that happen," I said. "I'm a lay-it-all-out person, a dwell-on-it person, an obsess-about-it person. If I hold things in and try to forget or pretend, I become a madman and have panic attacks. I have to talk.

Gideon laughed. "I like to be direct."
"Okay," I said. "But I warn you, I like to be evasive, inserutable and generally send mixed messages."
"I doubt it."
"Human interaction is not my strong point," I told him.
"Not seriously."
"Seriously," I said. Thinking: There is so much about me he doesn't know.
Gideon put his hand on my leg. "What's your strong point, then?"
"Goats," I told him. "I am excellent with goats.

My boyfriend is named Percocet," I say. "We're very close. I even went to Europe with him last summer.

I’d rather straighten my pubes with a flat iron than go on another blind date.

My handling of the situation with Jake proved that I was the same girl from eight years ago. I'd just gained a stone and lost my love for Shayne Ward.

I say, thirteen is too many dogs for good mental health. Five is pretty much the limit. More than five dogs and you forfeit your right to call yourself entirely sane.
Even if the dogs are small.