Pearson, Thurber, & Weirdness

Dear John,

 

The eye surgery is done. They said my vision will be blurry for 48 hours, then I'll feel like I'm seeing in HD. So far, they're right. My eyes feel like I have grit in them. It's hard to see to work on the computer, so I won't be on for long tonight. Other than that, I just feel wiped out and I can't get warm. Sounds like the apocalypse is upon us, that I'm cold!

 

Kathy took me to Warsaw today, since I couldn't drive afterward. We had a good time, and ended up talking about the fact that such entertaining things always happen to us. It seems to me that, in most cases, entertainment is in the mind of the beholder. Three people can experience something together and one will get irritated, one won't notice anything in particular, and one will have a great story to tell. Kathy and I tend to have the mind of the storyteller. We notice weirdness. It's probably like responding to like.

 

Remember me talking about Katie, my friend in high school? She had a German exchange student named Regina during my junior year. A bunch of us were sitting around on the floor talking one night, and Regina said something that forever changed the way I saw myself. She said that I was a good storyteller. I was taken aback at first, but soon realized she was right. Her comment is the reason for my first blog (you know, TheresACowOnThePorch). If I ever get to finish that book on growing up in the Deep South, I'll have to dedicate it to her. It's all her fault.

 

So now you know who to blame for all of this! I read Edmund Pearson and James Thurber, and they both influenced the way I tell stories. Regina's just responsible for the fact that I do it out loud and in writing. You bore up under it very well. I suppose that if like responds to like, we both exceed the average in weirdness. We said so many times that it was a good thing we married each other and didn't subject innocent bystanders to ourselves! I love your weirdness. And you understood and loved mine. We were destined for each other!

 

Waiting to be reunited with you,

Joan.