Since I haven't posted in about a week, I figured I would make up for it in one day. Also, I should learn that not every post need to be an novel....
There’s another blogger who posted about not being good a meeting celebrities. I now know how she feels. I’ve had some experiences with celeb’s in the past, back in my party days. But those were more informal/I don’t REALLY know who you are or fucking care kind of run-ins. Life is a different story now. I’m slightly more invested in my life and what I do with it and who I meet. With my anxiety, I’m not really good around people anyway. Luckily, most people see me as being shy, which I always think means I’m covering my uncomfortableness well. Spellcheck says unconfortableness isn’t word, but I’m damn well using it anyway.
I recently got to meet The Bloggess (Jenny Lawson) who may not be a celebrity in the most common sense of the word but I think she’s pretty fucking awesome. Ms Lawson was here for a reading and book signing for Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. I was lucky enough to attend with friends who pay better attention to details than I do, so we were right up front for the line up of signings.
The reading was fantabulous (really spellcheck? This one you pickup as an ok word?). She read that shit just like it had sounded in my head when I picked up the book. Which is kind of fucking scary because her voice even sounded the same and I’d never heard her speak. Weird.
As stated, we were in the front of the line for the signing portion of the night. Both my friend and I hurt our asses by sitting on the metal folding chairs for almost 2 hours. (damn coccyx bone injuries!! I love that word. coccyx) So there we were standing fairly awkwardly in line in front of about 70 gorram people. Typically I’m better in large groups like this, however because of our place in line, I felt like EVERYONE was looking at us. Sure, the logical part knows they weren’t. But that’s logic, and I’m a female humanoid, so that means I trend toward the emotional side.
By the time we got up to meet her, about 10 minutes had gone by. I couldn’t:
- Talk to her,
- Come up with a coherent sentence, other than “Great, how are you?” in response to her polite inquiry.
- Even look her in the fucking eye
Fail Cassandra. Fail. Thankfully, I didn’t make a complete ass out of myself by locking my knees and ending up in a dead faint. But I had to keep reminding myself to keep my knees soft. And it helped that my friend was kind enough to remind of that as well.
