1. PUBLISHING is BADASS. And the REASON it's badass is because of the three paper towels covered with blood that are now in the waste bin under my desk. Obviously, badassery is judged based on the opportunity for injury. I always suspected publishing was more than just soul-numbingly dumb mail. This mail was feisty. (EA's in-tray got me. It skimmed off a fat-grain-of-rice-sized bit of skin from my right middle finger. It then refused to stop bleeding for twenty minutes, just to mock me. I was too embarrassed to ask for a band-aide.)
2. CHILDREN are BADASS. I did fan mail today, and they made me laugh more than humor submissions. 60% of kids end their letters with "P.S. blah blah blah. P.P.S. what does P.S. mean?"
3. CRAZY PEOPLE are BADASS (I suppose.) This one woman, who I get submissions from every single mail day (twice a week) submitted SIX envelopes worth of stuff today. Not only that, but she managed to seal EVERY SINGLE envelope TO her submission. At first I thought she must have been really dumb but I've decided that six times must be deliberate. I therefore choose to believe that she has a secret and BADASS plan to take over the world, one incorrectly sealed envelope at a time.
4. ENTS are BADASS. There was a woman who submitted something today whose last name was Entwise. (It actually wasn't. But it began with "Ent" and so my point stands). So I am now watching Lord of the Rings, after which I will read Lord of the Rings and then I will hug an Ent.
I am going to tell you a fascinating story. My little brother, as a young child, had terrible dyslexia and ADHD, and he didn't learn to read until he was almost twelve. (Now, incidentally, he is both more intelligent and a better reader than I am. I, however, get better grades. So. So. So...um. Whatever. We'll leave my inferiority complex towards my little brother for another time.) In a way, this was a nice thing because my being sick led my brother to HATE me with every fiber of his being. Neither of us knew why this was - my mom thinks that worry turned into anger, because he didn't understand what was going on, he just knew that I wasn't fun and my parents weren't around. The fact that he couldn't read meant that my family read books aloud until I was ~12 or 13, carving out an hour or so every night where we weren't fighting.
The book we were reading when I was eleven was Lord of the Rings, which we got from my grandparents. The day after we finished The Fellowship of the Ring, we went out and saw the movie. (A bit of an issue, actually, since they went and tacked on the beginning of TT to FotR which meant that I was like WTF why is Boromir dead?) When the movie came out, it was one of maybe four videos that we owned and I watched it quite a bit.
Skippppp forward. When I was...twelve? Oh who knows. When I was a little older I got put on Cytoxan which is a DISGUSTING chemotherapy. It's a twelve hour treatment, so I was in the hospital all day long. I started bringing LotR to the hospital with me. By the time I ended the treatments I was watching all three DVDs in a day once a month. (I was on Cytoxan for the absolute maximum number of treatments you're allowed to give a person.)
I probably had a point. I think I was considering myself as a Creature of Habit. For the longest time, i had a hard time watching new movies or reading new books, probably because I so desperately needed stability. So when I, now a TOTALLY SANE (pause for laughter) human, curl up to watch Lord of the Rings I can feel my entire being relax. Another advantage of 11 years...I know, for the most part, what works for me.
Next time: I avenge myself upon the Devilish In-Tray.
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