My father is a huge fan of Greta Christina and it was him who turned me on to her blog. Afterward I was hooked. For a good portion of my college career hers was the only blog I would never, ever miss. She had all the eloquence of Dawkins, the concise reason of Harris, and the humility of a pauper. She was perhaps the atheist I most admired.
Then at the 2010 SSA Leadership Conference zoo trip, she came running up to me, knew me by name, and said she had wanted to meet me. I proceeded to shit my pants, try to come off as not fanboying (I failed), and then ran to call my dad to boast that fucking GRETA CHRISTINA KNEW MY NAME!!!
We would go on to speak at a lot of the same venues and, over the last year and a half, have become the best of friends. On days when I’m at a low spot psychologically, she is generally the person I call. When we’re speaking at the same gig we almost always find time to sneak away for a few minutes, cuddle, and catch up. We make pillow forts. In Greta I’ve lost a hero (she told me if I didn’t stop looking at her that way she’d have my testicles) and gained a caring, dear friend.
Happy birthday to one of the most articulate voices and one of the most penetrating minds on the planet (who has somehow managed to remain humble to a fault). Happy birthday to Greta Christina. I cannot exaggerate how lucky I am to have her in my life.
Head over and wish her a happy one.