Over at Band Back Together we’re feeling like we want to junk punch the next person who asks us if we have a case of the Mondays. So instead of doing the time in the resulting anger management program, we decided to take Monday back. So we’re linking up our Dose of Happy posts and bringing the awesome back to Mondays.
Shiny, happy person en route to The Bloggess’ book signing
So yeah, I just spent last Wednesday evening chilling with Jenny Lawson(aka @TheBloggess)(not aka Evan R. Lawson, Crystal. Jeez.) and my two fine Band ladies, Tia and Shevaun. No big whoop. You know, doing how we do. Or the opposite of that. The last bit anyway. Not the opposite of chilling with Jenny from the block(A block. Probably.) and her backup singers, the opposite of no big whoop. It was a monumental whoop. It was the biggest, juiciest, most perfectly crafted whoop I have seen in quite some time.
I was a mite bit anxious due to large crowds of sweaty strangers breathing on each other and tossing awkwardness and anxiety about like a balloon at an open air concert. Also due to the whole meeting the Bloggess IRL after hearting her, and emailing and commenting to her, forevs. It’s the weirdest, out of body feeling to meet someone who you don’t know one single, solitary whit in actuality and they know you even less, but you know all sorts of deep and darks and light and airys about them.
Even from that distance you can sense the pure awesome.
Her reading was hilarious, even though I had already read the book. Never have possible rape and diarrhea been so funny. The women has crippling anxiety AND perfect comic timing. At least the gods are fair sometimes. I made it through like I always do. The hype man inside always makes it seem more crazy than it actually is, pouring all that adrenaline down my throat and setting me on edge with too loud house music and his loud chanting, FIGHT OR FLIGHT. That guy is a douchenozzle. And yet I can’t ever seem to dodge him for long.
We were there. Despite only part of each of our heads being visible.
The other way I made it through is because I have friends. Nice, funny, balls out friends who played the chatterbox and kept my mind off of the fear I had that I would get up to the table, book in hand, and scream I like cheese, throw my book at her and run. None of that actually happened so the night already held a spot in the win column, even without all the other assorted awesome. I didn’t even mention cheese or try to bow or cry like she was a Beatle and I was someone who really strongly disliked beetles.
Can’t do it, Jenny. It happened.
What I did do is tell her we were with the Band(she said she loved Band Back Together. Yay!), brought her Voodoo doughnuts thanks to Shevaun and got a picture and another signature in my book(the first was on the Hamlet von Schitzel nameplates we got for pre-ordering. Planning ahead pays. Thanks, Girl Scouts of America!). She was lovely and gracious and happy about the doughnuts.
I would have waited all night.
Because we sat there for one, two, twenty-forty-niner-thousand hours waiting to have the books signed(totally worth it) and because we sat thisclose after not sitting at all or anywhere even remotely close during the reading portion(Note to self: plan ahead. Curses, Girls Scouts of America!) I was able to observe the writer in her natural habitat. Or not that, but I got to witness the exchanges she had with people and it was pretty fucking cool, y’all. She had the same enthusiastic smile(double dose of Xanax or double dose of awesome? Answer: both) and gracious response for each shiny, happy face, for each gift given, for each joke told. She was altogether lovely and I will ride this happy for weeks.