Grandpa did everything at his own pace, a speed that my sister and I referred to as 'when snails attack.' ... My grandparents' house was only about ten miles from ours, but the ride there would necessitate sandwiches packed for the trip, and several books to keep us occupied.

When someone writes something hateful and threatening I respond with something like, "I want to be so much like you; I want to wear your skin." By messing with them in that way you change what they're selling. They won't share it. And it halts the conversation. Or I'll change it to "Jenny, you're like a rose bush that grew a watermelon." They come back pissed off and write, "I didn't say that!"

Meanwhile, I was doodling pictures of vampiric cougars.

In short? It is exhausting being me. Pretending to be normal is draining and requires amazing amounts of energy and Xanax.

...and whenever I had menstral cramps, I could just pretend that Voldemort was close.

It's funny because the most sane women I've ever met are my mom and my grandmothers. I think you have to be incredibly sane and self-aware to function in relatively insane environments.

One ox, two oxen. One fox, two foxen.