So, I spent the entire day listening to Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. And coughing up blood. The two were not related, and apparently the blood thing is gross but not something to be concerned about because of the fucking tube that’s still in my throat. All I want for Christmas…
Anyway, Jenny is awesome, and if you haven’t listened to the book, you really need to. I can identify with her. I have always been the awkward kid in the room who hid behind books and never made friends. And I get panicky in social situations. My adorable quirks do sometimes drive my husband insane. And I had a childhood filled with “interesting and educational” animal encounters.
Take, for instance, when my grandfather taught me how to tell safe snakes from poisonous snakes. It’s their eyes. Easiest way to tell. Poisonous snakes have vertical pupils like cats. Safe snakes have round pupils. Simple, right? Do you realize how close you have to get to the bitey part of the snake to actually see the pupils?
He had a demo snake so I could see. Just a king snake. My mom freaked the fuck out. I mean, I guess I was all of six, and I was right down in that snake face. My grandad told her it was a safe snake. But she didn’t quit screaming until my grandfather decapitated the poor snake with a shovel. My mom is bloodthirsty when it comes to snakes.
I was still totally fascinated. My grandfather humored me, and we dissected it. Which is a completely normal thing to do. Or at least it was for us. Something died, we cut it up. Shut up. I was into science. And snake guts are cool.
As an aside, I also had a dried out baby snake that had been flattened by a car. I loved that little guy. He just vanished one day. I blame my mother the snake hater.
So, yeah. I had an interesting childhood that has in no way influenced my current state of mental illness. And Jenny Lawson is my hero.