I 100% promise to shut up about last week’s book signing after this post, but one last shout-out…The thing is, my one brush with fame in this life was just a little too fun. Nothing makes you feel quite so rockstar like having people wait an hour to get your signature. Oh yeah, this actually happened.
While the evening was largely a success, one minor downpoint is that I have lost all of my “in real life friends”, including my husband. Unfortunately, I started obsessing over what to wear early on in the week, and may have excessively and repetitively texted pictures of myself in different dress choices to anyone who had not yet blocked my number. I think it is also possible that my husband got slightly sick of trying to convince me that I did not look like a fat hooker and finally gave up, muttering something like, “Fine, just go find the nearest street corner” under his breath.
After settling on a dress choice and then victoriously getting it turned around the right way (hush, I only had it on backwards for no more than 15 minutes), my nerves may have given way to a bit of dry heaving as I waited for the lovely Stephanie Giese, a fellow author from the book, I Just Want to Pee Alone, to arrive so we could “hit the big city” together. The details are a little foggy for me, but I remember hysterically realizing I needed to change the garbage bag after I had already donned my heels. Because I was sure sticking her nose in the my trash can for a sniff test would be the very first thing Stephanie Giese would do when she got to my house.
Stephanie is a gracious, sweet, kind soul. Through a furry of Subway subs and my precious children launching themselves off their chairs and subsequently temper-tantruming, the dear soul barely batted an eye. The main victory of the evening? I fell in awe of Stephanie (this girl is wickedly smart and savvy too), and whether she is agreeable to it or not, we are now going to be the best of friends. She’s really that great and I need some replacements after the whole debacle with the annoying dress texts.
I said that we had a successful book signing.
I did not say that I suddenly developed an abundance of social graces overnight.
#bestbooksigningpicever
All the credit for the success of this event goes to the wonderful Bethany Meyer and Schuy. Schuy hosted the signing at her hip activewear shop in Chestnut Hill, Indigo Schuy, and Bethany is another author in the book who organized the whole evening. She apparently literally knows all of Chestnut Hill, and I have never met anyone with more adoring fans. I have also never met anyone with more awesome arm muscles or who radiates such a vibrant energy. Bethany Meyer, you are on your game, lady! Thanks for all your work, and thanks Schuy, for hosting!
And I would be remiss not to thank two dear friends for making the trek to celebrate the book with me. Thanks for being such a blessing, guys. And I would be even more remiss to not note how much I adore my poor sister for being forcibly drug along to the event without even a hint of complaining. She also refrained from any panicked gasps as I tried to parallel park a minivan on a crowded street. She is my rock, and I am completely in love with her.
Yeah, there really was a cake. And it was so pretty!
It should also be noted that upon getting home from all the festivities, my husband (who was wonderful with coming home early, watching the kids, etc.), asked me how it went. I said, “It was fun!”. He said (and I quote), “We need to get a birdbath for the front yard.” So there you have it. This is why fame can never permanently go to my head–we have birdbaths to consider and such. If you feel led to comment on this post, please weigh in on this bird bath situation, as I am very anti, and he is very pro, so we are in a bit of a sticky wicket here.
Okay, can we finally wrap this biggest-non-event-that-ever-happened in my life? Let’s hope so! Thanks for sticking with me, dear readers. I’m off to frame my Sharpie.
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