I believe I mentioned this on Twitter, but one of the biggest Japanese manga publishers has come out with a manga about Mr. Improbable and the Ig Nobel Prizes. Part 1 came out this week, part 2 next week. And I get to be in it, as Mr. Improbable’s loyal sidekick:
That’s not how I wear my hair anymore, but they did an excellent job with my eyebrows. I may take this in to the salon the next time I go to get them waxed.
People, I hope you all know: I never intended to have a life like this. I grew up in a series of aggressively normal Midwestern suburbs. Granted, I was kind of the Sookie Stackhouse of the Midwest: people knew there was something different about me, and weren’t necessarily comfortable with it. (I never had a convincing accent, either.) But this …
I don’t take it for granted, that’s all I mean to say. I know not everyone gets to be a manga sidekick. I know not everyone gets to be paid to write a story about their dog in a national magazine. I wake up sometimes and realize that I was born a Midwestern Christian, daughter of a good union man and a stay-at-home mom, and now I am a genu-wine member of the east coast Jewish media elite. I thought there might be more money involved in that then there’s turned out to be, but you can’t deny it’s still a hell of a long journey.
I’m grateful. I’m mightily amused. I laugh at least once a day at the sheer absurdity, the improbability, of my life. And I know God hears a prayer in that laugh, a prayer that words can’t articulate.
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