Today after work I’m going to A Real Bookstore in Allen to listen to and possibly(assuming I can leave work and get there in time for a wrist band, cross your fingers for me) meet my favorite blogger, Jenny Lawson, AKA The Bloggess. She’s this perfect storm of quirky, snarky, demented, bawdy, heartwrenching and brilliant.
She wrote a book that debuted #1 yesterday on the New York Times bestseller list called Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir). I’m only about 30 pages into it, but it’s pretty darn funny. I’m pretty OCD about reading her tweets and blog entries, they just kill me. Here’s one of my faves: http://thebloggess.com/2012/04/if-its-tuesday-this-must-be-houston/
I’ve been wracking my brain for a month or more, trying to think of the perfect witty thing to say that would set me apart from the throngs of people she’s met so far.
Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, I will most likely do what I always do which is: pray that I can at least utter a coherent statement and play the vet card so that I will have something to talk about.
Thank God I do what I do because it usually opens the door to conversation in times of social awkwardness. Even if it results solicitations for free veterinary advice or a litany of pet stories from the other party. It’s better than painful silence (well, sometimes the stories are really boring, so now that I’ve discovered Twitter, I may avoid the vet card and just sit in the corner reading tweets, which isn’t very social but it’s a lot less scary).
The Bloggess has a cat named Posey that is hyperthyroid. Worst case, I’ll ask about the cat.
This is my fantasy version of the encounter:
Me: “Hi, so nice to meet you, you are brilliant…(insert impossibly witty statement that is the funniest, smartest thing she’s ever heard in her life)”
Bloggess: “OhmyGod!” “You are Dr. Vivian Carroll!” “You write “The Cone of Uncertainty”! I’m a subscriber, you are so witty and smart!”
Me: “Aw, shucks, thanks”.
Bloggess: “Do you think we could get together some time and hang out? Maybe let the kids play? I’m sure our husbands would get along, we could all be BFF’s.”
Then we’d live happily ever after, proofreading each other’s writing, bouncing ideas off each other, taking family vacations together (ok, that’s probably getting a little weird and stalkerey).
I’m sure the reality will be very different and much more mundane.
They are serving vodka before the signing though, which could result in me uttering something unforgettable, though maybe not in a good way, depending on how much I have to consume to get my bravery on.
Wish me luck.