People sent him some lovely notes about the story, though there were a few asshats, like the woman who said the newspaper industry is dead because now you can get “unbiased reporting” from blogs. What the fuck? I’m not sure when I’ve ever seen “unbiased reporting” in a blog. No offense intended to y’all. But it seems to me that most blogs exist to be 99% opinion and 1% fact. Except for Save Your Generation, of course. That blog is 100% believable, 24/7. Other than that, believe nothing you read online, especially me.
One thing that I really like about print publications is that they can’t accumulate 800 hateful, anonymous comments while you’re reading them. I had to quit reading the comments on all the big blogs, and even on the serious news sites, because they made me hate humanity so much. Luckily I have found all you lovely fashion/humor/art/photography/dog/other bloggers, who have lifted my spirits so that I can once again get out of bed in the morning. Okay! The early afternoon. Don’t judge; I need a lot of beauty sleep at my age.
Speaking of my husband, we just saw The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (I highly recommend it). I sent the book to Paul as a gift, oh, probably in January 1998. I believe it was intended to soften the blow of an accompanying Dear John letter that included the ominous sentence: “I respect you as a journalist.” Or the book and letter might have been sent separately. Who knows? But, I assure you, the hand-written letter definitely existed. Later, after Paul had managed to overcome my resistance by getting to me through my dog, I marveled that he hadn’t been discouraged by my rejection letter. He said, “It wasn’t a rejection letter, it was a note of encouragement! I still have it.” So he re-read it and was like, “Oh yeah. This was definitely a rejection letter.” People! Look at what happens if you don’t read carefully! You wind up married.
That little anecdote is a good illustration of the difference between us. Paul will get an actual rejection letter and see hope in it. Whereas, if someone, for instance, fails to reply just one of my 3,000 chatty daily emails, I am sure that s/he hates me. Then I have to spend a lot of time analyzing the 2,999 replies I did receive to gather further evidence of the hate. Bitches need to proceed with caution because I am way oversensitive.