By: Debra G. Miller

Debra G. Miller — Fri, 24 Mar 2006 20:20:25 +0000

Hi Donna,
I accidentally became something of a voyeur into your life a year or so ago. I was substitute teaching a high school psychology class, and as is my insatiable habit, started browsing what I thought to be the textbook for that particular class. This textbook made repeated references to a book written by a young woman who was autistic and was married to an autistic man. In their household two memorable rules were “no lining up shoes” and “no leaving soapbubbles in the sink”. I was fascinated, since one of my areas of certification is Special Education, and I have worked with several beautiful, fascinating autistic children. This was my first peek into the thought processes of a creative, brave, wondrously funny and wise autistic adult. You rock! As it turned out, this must have been a college textbook, as I forgot which class I found it in, and checked out all of the school’s textbooks later. I am also Piscean enough to have spaced out the name of the author referenced in the text, but research later told me it just about had to be you. Unless there’s another autistic author out there with your unique sort of biography.
As I was reading this article about Japan, I thought of a funny story that happened in my life not long ago. I live in the suburbs of Houston, Texas, and a lady about your age is part of my metaphysical spiritual community. She is blonde, beautiful, and petite, and along with myself, is one who usually works at the largest Renaissance Festival in the States, not far from where we live. (Probably the only place on the planet where you hear phrases, in Texas drawl, like “How y’all doin’, m’lord, my lady?”)When a mutual friend was moving to Wyoming, plans for a going away party changed within a week from another friend’s house to Kim’s. My husband and I got to the party and were first talking with Kim and her fiance about Renaissance Festival names. I’ve been called Gypsy for years, because I am a fortune teller at the fest. Kim said she had finally had to learn to live with the name that had been fastened to her–Ren Barbie–and that when her fiance’s friends were introduced to her, they immediately pegged her “Biker Barbie” in honor of her man’s motorcycle(s). We then started commending Kim for having gotten her house decorated so nicely for the party on such short notice. She said, “Well, you know, I was OK until about an hour ago when I snapped and started yelling at everybody–”YOU–get a broom! YOU–get those dishes in the sink and wipe the table down! YOU–turn that television off and pick up your mess!!” Her fiance smiled and said, “Yeah, she turned into NAZI BARBIE”.
I have read just about everything you have posted on the web, as well as a good deal of Chris’s site, and this very day after I get off work I’m going to see if Barnes and Noble carries your books. I’m dying off to read them. You are an amazing writer!
Fondly,
Deb Miller

Comments on: Adventures in Japan

By: Debra G. Miller