I’ve never been the type of girl to go to a concert and faint from proximity to my favorite band. Yes, I had a few heart palpitations at Bon Jovi’s 2008 tour, but I had no delusions that I was going to meet THE MAN (or Richie Sambora) and run away with him (or them) into a glorious sunset. I don’t really do autograph sessions, because they are fabricated meet and greet thingies that end in disappointment.
In college, I went to a book signing for ecological pioneer Eugene Odum, simply because he was a guest speaker in my Ecology 1001 course, and I thought he was awesome. There were a very few people there, he was incredibly sweet and kind, and I was under the influence of cocktails shared after kicking the pants off of my final exams. So, I suck as a fangirl.
And yet…When the latest memoir by Jen Lancaster debuted, I decided to brave the weather (sunny and warm), the traffic (sucks NONSTOP in Atlanta), and the crowds (ew…germs and awkward convo), and suck it up and go to her first-stop book signing.
I love me some Jen Lancaster. Her books are the cotton-candy-wrapped-deep-fried-corndog of my reading diet: delicious, a little wrong, and special in a once a year way. (If I could chain her to a word-processor, ala Misery, I probably would. But I’d feel like a douche, and give her wine and steak. Cupcakes, too, if I had time to bake.) So, I wanted to actually shell out my cash and time to meet my favorite author. This is new for me.
I sent the GBF (like Roald Dahl’s BFG, except that he is my Gay Best Friend. Since Algebra I: 9th Grade, yo!) to the Buckhead Barnes and Noble in advance, to purchase my copy of My Fair Lazy, Jen’s latest work.
(Sidenote: It ain’t Barnes and NOBLES, folks.)
Luckily, the GBF is not geographically challenged, because he landed me in the 51-100 signing group. (Btw, Barnes and Noble: If someone shows up at 4:40, when books go on sale at 5:00, and there is NO LINE, how the hell am I down 50 people? Answer me!)
I leave work at 4. The signing starts at 7. The plan is to meet for dinner, having secured spot numero 51-100 in line, and then venture to the bookstore. It’s a 45 minute drive, so this is a good plan, no?
NO. I am lost until arriving at Barnes and Noble at 6:30. Many screams were emitted. Hair was yanked. Lipstick was chewed off. I may have been sweating like a linebacker. And so, I looked like ass when I arrived to meet my hero. And I was STARVING.
Ms. Lancaster entered and began speaking right on time, looking precious and being funny. I am pleased with my decision to come, in spite of the ridiculous lost-ness. GBF and I laughed at the snarky fan who got all sorts of pissed when she was not called on during the Q & A in her preferred time frame. (FYI: The author can’t see you if you are hidden behind a shelf of children’s books, pal. And your question sucked, anyway.)
Then, I got in line. For a loooong time. And had awkward conversations. And waited. Some more. And theeeeennnnn…
Oh. Holy. Crap. I am REALLY excited, suddenly. I’m going to meet my idol, and SQEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! (Stolen from my idol. Copyright: Jen.)
She is SO nice! And she knows my name! Oh shit, it’s on the post-it, so she isn’t psychic, and I looked all impressed, like an idiot! And she’s so personable and chatty, and WHAT? Did I just tell her my life’s-fricken-story? Apparently, I don’t plan to wear pants this summer while planning and executing my wedding during my summer vacation from being a teacher, oh yeah, I’m a teacher of the high-school-english-variety-and-do-you-want-to-sign-my-yearbook-bffl?? SHUT.UP.
And then my camera was set on video. So, I now have video of me smiling my face off next to Jen Lancaster, and then realizing I am a moron, and switching to photo.
The picture turned out well, given the circumstances…and I give the greatest props to my new bffl for treating me like a champ, in spite of my social ineptitude. Then, the moment was over, and I was wandering out of Barnes and Noble, clutching my autographed book and wondering what the HELL just happened.
God Bless you, Jen Lancaster. You made me into a drooling, babbling fangirl in a way that no boy band ever could…and you were an utter lady about it. Just…Thanks!
If you have no idea who (or what) I am talking about, go to http://www.jennsylvania.com for the deets.
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