book signings are the life for me

Ok, maybe I am overselling my booking-signing-attendance skills again with that title a wee bit.  But, the Green Acres theme song is still playing in my noggin, and well, I figured a corny piggy-back on the title from Monday’s post (book signings are the place for me), might just force it out of there once and for all.  Or at least have us all singing it together.  Hee hee.

I swear that I’m not usually chasing down famous people and trying to meet them — seriously, why would I do that just to have an awkward encounter?! It just happens that several different events were scheduled very close together lately that had me going to meet some of my favorite folks and unleashing my awesomeness awkwardness on them: first, Rhoda of Southern Hospitality (not once but twice), then, author Jen Lancaster, and now, Sherry and John Petersik of Young House Love for their Atlanta book signing.

As I explained when I went to meet Rhoda at her HomeGoods party, it’s a really weird feeling going to meet someone you feel like you already know. Especially, when they definitely don’t know you. At least, not as anything other than someone who makes comments bizarre comments on their blog. That is, if you’re lucky and they even remember your name at all. Considering YHL has over 5 million page views a month, the likelihood of them knowing my little name from a comment every day or two is highly unlikely. In fact, if there were odds on it in Vegas, I’d say that they would pay off extremely well.

I did feel a little comforted going in, considering John and Sherry have called themselves awkward before. So, I kinda figured with them being awkward supposedly being awkward and me being certifiably (is there a certification for this?) awkward, that this could go one of two ways: 1) it would be so awkward that we would literally hear crickets, then I’d panic and knock over their table and freak out more, and then just run out and forget my book and not get a picture and never be able to show my face again or 2) it would just be nominally awkward and nothing to write home about but at least I could still go out in public.

Think you know which way this goes??

First, let me give you the lay of the land. Word on the street (out in front of FLOR that night) was that they had 700 people who RSVP’d yes – how crazy is that?? Pretty sure all 700 (and at least another handful boatload) showed up! I got there about 30 minutes early thinking that would put me at the beginning of the line. Silly me. That put me at least 600 people deep in line. Uh, did I mention these guys are crazy-popular??  (Pssst - in case you just discovered the internet and don’t know of them yet, they are like the rockstars of the blog world.  Blog royalty, if you will.)

The weather didn’t exactly cooperate. Though, at least the rain stopped before the line formed, and it was just cold and windy. (Translation: bad hair night.  Too bad I didn’t have my trusty forkbrush on me.)  I opted not to wear my nice warm boots because I was afraid the rain might ruin them, so instead, I made the unwise decision to wear ballet flats. So, uh, no nice warm socks… Just some almost-bare weather-exposed feet that I apparently flexed for this picture.  (Nice, even my feet are awkward.)

Once, I made it into the store, I was no longer thinking about being that awkward weirdo that came a la carte and didn’t wear socks. Now, I’d started to obsess on something totally new. I noticed that everyone else with gifts for John and Sherry had actually wrapped them. Oops. Party foul? I had put mine in a lunch bag in my purse to keep them from getting purse-funk on them but they were definitely not wrapped, and I could definitely not deliver them in the now crumpled up lunch bag that surely had something unidentifiable on the outside of it by this point. (Worth mentioning here: one of the women about ten people in front of me in line made them each a throw pillow – that day – and they were nicely packaged up in gift sacks.)

As I got closer and closer to the front of the line, I started to get my normal meeting-people anxious stress. Plus, where do I set my purse/coat when I go up there? Is my phone charged up enough for them to take my picture? Then, what am I actually going to say?? Why didn’t I wrap these cards? Where was my forkbrush when I needed it?

Then, it was suddenly my turn, and well, I didn’t see what was waiting behind scenario door #3. At all. Um, they were sooooo nice and welcoming and non-awkward, that I hadn’t planned for this scenario and just shut down. (Not that I didn’t think they’d be nice, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t plan on them not being awkward right back at me!) I went temporarily deaf to my own voice. No kidding. I could not hear a word I was saying. (Is this what happens to seriously crazy people?) I know I walked up and practically threw my book across the table at them and then tossed the note cards I’d made them down and said something like “I made these for y’all” and then trailed off with something like “they’re not pillows or anything…”.  John asked if I had a shop, and when I said yes, he started looking for the tag in the cards.  Oops.  I didn’t include one.  And, then I said something completely insane to that effect.  Truth is, with their very public ‘no swag’ policy, I was afraid that including anything with even my little logo might get the cards thrown out, and since I wasn’t giving them the gift for the publicity but just because I appreciate their blog and am a huge fan, I didn’t think I should include it, anyway. (Hope that wasn’t weird — it really isn’t that it’s super-secret or anything. I promise. There is a link in my side bar…)

Then, luckily, they asked if I wanted a picture and that awkwardness I’d created melted away — I mean, I still couldn’t hear, but at least I wasn’t saying anything else crazy. At that moment anyway. After the picture, as I was clearing out to make room for the next fan, Sherry mentioned that she liked that the cards were printed in lowercase, and then I said “I’m a lowercase kinda gal” and tried my best to escape before I accidentally knocked over their table or said something totally insane. As I was wandering off, John said “you should totally make that your tagline: lowercase kinda gal”. Hmmm…  he may be onto something – he was in advertising, right? #lowercasekindagal

Somehow, I just assumed the signing would be filled with a bunch of other fans like me and didn’t realize that any of those other fans would be real bloggers.  Whose blogs I read.  So, luckily for Sarah from Ugly Duckling House, I started talking to her in the line like she was just a regular ole fan like me – it was crazy because I didn’t recognize her without the paint on her face from her profile picture, so for once, I was only minimally (for me) awkward, and Sarah and her friend, Ellen, were super-nice and never once tried to run away. Of course, in true form, I didn’t ask to take a picture with them.  Oh, well, next time.  (You can read Sarah’s entertaining recap of the YHL book signing on her blog here.)

I also got to meet Katie Bower from Bower Power Blog, which was really cool. I knew there was a good chance of her making an appearance that night since the Bowers and the Petersiks are BFFs, and I had been thinking how cool it would be to see her. But, I was thinking, like, across the room.  I didn’t imagine that I’d get to talk to her. Unfortunately for Katie and her husband, Jeremy, I was like a deer in headlights – I think I only said (and sadly more than one time) “I’m Katie, too”.  Luckily for me, my new friends, Sarah and Ellen, went up there with me, so they did most of the socializing and I just smiled and looked pretty crazy. A special skill of mine.

Was anyone else at the YHL book signing?  Who would you wait in that kind of line to meet?  Do you think they could run a small city country on power harnessed from my awkwardness? 

book signings are the place for me

Ok, so maybe I don’t do my best work attending book signing events given my tendancy towards awkward (exhibits A and B), so saying they are “the place for me” may be a bit of an exaggeration.  But, the Green Acres theme song was playing in my head, and I had to do what I had to do to get it out.  If it’s now stuck in yours, you’re welcome :)

Some people credit Beverly Cleary or another author of kids’ books for helping them learn to love to read, but well, let’s just say I didn’t do a lot of intentional reading until well past the kids’ books stage when my friend, Stacy, introduced me to the genius that is Jen Lancaster.  Not actually Jen Lancaster, obviously, but her books.  (Though - spoiler alert - I am going to meet her before this post ends.)  I then read up all of her memoirs as quickly as I could (which is probably not all that quickly given my previous aversion to intentional reading and therefore under-developed speedy reading skills).  Side note: if they let me read Jen Lancaster in high school English class (assuming she had gone back in time to start writing them by then), I would have been a much better literature student.

If you aren’t familar with Jen, I can only tell you that she is seriously the funniest person in the entire universe.  Hands down.  I read all of her early books while travelling for business, and her books had entire planefuls of people thinking I was completely insane.  I could not help but to laugh out loud as I read, and well, sitting by yourself and just bursting out into laughter every few minutes tends towards the insanity assumptions.  I get that.  I’m ok with it.  It was totally worth it.  Plus, it set the bar low for whatever insanity/awkwardness that actually came out of my mouth as I encountered my fellow passengers.

Fast forward a few years, to when Jen is scheduled for a book signing event in Atlanta for her newest novel, Here I Go Again.  (Did I mention I live in Atlanta?!)  That book signing took place just over a week ago, and thankfully, my favorite sister (previously seen here) planned a trip into town to go with me — seeing that I introduced her to Ms. Lancaster’s hilarity and all.  In my well-thought-out plan, it never occurred to me (until we were on our way there) that she might have been as excited/nervous/soon-to-be-awkward as me about meeting Jen.  Uh oh.  I feel a train wreck coming.  And yet, I couldn’t stop it.

O, and in the interest of full disclosure, I believe I have to mention here that I didn’t have a brush in my car on the way down to the signing and had a case of what my husband calls “crazy mom-hair” so I had to resort to using a fork from my glove box as a brush.  Love me some fork brush.  It does a suprisingly good job on thin hair like mine.  You should try it – you’ll thank me.  Anyway, I felt I should mention this here before my loving sister told on me in the comments :)  #owningit #forkbrushrules

Jen gave a reading and answered questions before she signed books, and she was just as hysterical as we expected.  And then some.  Seriously, she did not dissapoint.  Except for not asking us to be her new best friends.  Yet.

So, here we are sitting in our seats patiently anxiously waiting for our group to get called for the book signing.

When it was our turn to go up to the table, I just handed over my book and stood there like a crazy holding my gift for her.  Luckily, Jen asked what else I was buying to which I just said, “I made you these” as I handed over the letterpress note cards I had made for her.  At that point, I was pretty done.  I didn’t get any other words out.  Luckily, my sister was there to explain that they were letterpress and so on.  But, then at some point she went numb, too, and started saying crazy things that didn’t even sound like English to me.  I seriously had no idea what they were talking about but was ok with that.  [According to my sister, we were both just nervously laughing at whatever Jen said. And, the reason I didn't think she was speaking English was that she wasn't speaking.  At all.  Apparently, we were like Beavis and Butthead.  Or Dumb and Dumber.  Or Tweedledee and Tweedledum.  I stake claim on Tweedledee, for obvious reasons.]   I considered it a victory that I hadn’t stroked out on the signing table or spit on Jen when I tried to speak or jokingly used the word “stalker” and been escorted out.  So, yeah, I guess I can’t blame Jen for not asking us to be her new best friends.  Yet.

Luckily, I couldn’t forget to ask for a picture this time since book signings are kinda setup for that.

Thanks, Jen, for not acting like my sister and I were completely off our rockers.  At least, not to our faces.  Should you need to vent about our insanity, I understand.  It would be an honor for you to call us @sshats.  Or anything, really.  Can’t wait for The Tao of Martha this summer – I already have it on pre-order :)

Is it weird that I bought the book in print just to have her sign it and put it on my shelf but bought another copy to actually read on my Kindle?  Anyone else an avid reader of Jen’s books or Jennsylvania blog?