i am steve martin in the movie, “the jerk”.

i am giddy.

i am a devoted reader of the sun magazine. my sister, “magical” hooked me up with it about four years ago. it is an inspiring publication with many amazing writers. if you aren’t reading it or buying it or whatever then your life cannot possibly be fulfilled. (between this and the peevery, you could have a fulfilled life squared).

bonus about this mag? no adverts. i’ll say that again, NO ADVERTS.

not a month goes by that i am not literally “moved” by an article in the sun, better yet many articles. you may find it hard to believe, but i’ve never sent a note in to the sun before to let them know i was loving them long time. until recently.

i read a poem that just about knocked me off my chair. i’ve never read anything closer to truth, that sums up our human experience so clearly. i thought, “i must publish this poem for the world to see(that the world cannot see it in the highly successful magazine. as if my blog is MORE world famous than this magazine.)

i found the link to send a note in, asking permission to reprint this poem on my blog. i got a response LATER THAT SAME DAY FROM THE AUTHOR. did you hear me, b/c i am YELLING IT “AT” YOU.

he asked for a link to my blog just as a precaution. i thought, “oh god the gig will be up. he’ll read it and think i’m a crazy one-armed three-eyed freak. and, he’d be right.”

i waited for a reply, and waited and waited. i started saying mean things to myself like, “piglet, you are a true idiot.” “he’s read your blog and knows that if you publish his poem on it, it will ruin any future career opportunities.”

i obsessively checked my email. normally, i’d be embarrassed to share such a thing. WAIT. who am i kidding? i embarrass myself on a regular basis.

monday morning, i open the email and i see his reply. i see it, but i can’t read it. ok, i’ll peek. i read the first line and it was favorable. i couldn’t read it any further. i got up and smoked and came back to the computer. i started doing research for my neighbor about mental illness (i’m a resident expert on mental illness ya’ll).

in essence, i was doing anything but reading the email i SO wanted to read.

i read some more of his response, got excited, went to smoke again and then gleefully yelled to my husband, “GUESS WHAT?!”

i explained to him what was happening and that i was unable to get through the email b/c i am retarded. i forwarded the email to my husband, who essentially is sitting in the very same room with me. we do this a lot. no more of the “hey come over here and see this”, i just email him. or instant message him, depending on my mood.

after sending it to my husband who showed appropriate excitement for me and with me (appropriate excitement is vital in any type of union).

i finally got through his entire email. my response? “he’s just making it up b/c he feels sorry for me.” yep, a perfect stranger is lying to me in an email. i am so logical.

his email was very kind and generous. he gave me permission to reprint his poem and i just hope you find as much beauty in it as i did.

said poem to follow this post.