First of all, thank you everyone who tried to make me less cranky yesterday. Who knew being a Crabby Appleton could garner so many comments? It’s kind of like when I was a waitress; if I was my normal irked self my tips were way better than when I feigned that I was helpful and kind.
Anyway, I have to post today because my old boyfriend FINALLY wrote his “I Dated June” guest post and just because he had H1N1 was no reason, in my book, that his post should have taken so long to get here. But perhaps that is better left to complain about tomorrow, when I feature his fine post, in which he makes me sound like a pill. Which could not possibly be true.
Instead I will tell you about last night. Did you ever see that movie, About Last Night? It really wasn’t a good movie but I liked what Demi Moore was wearing in every scene. At least I did in 1987 when it was a movie.
I did not spend last night with Demi Moore, though. Instead I spent it with many women who also blog, at a little dinner put together by Faithful Reader and one of my first blog friends, Coffee Gal.
Before we all got together, Coffee Gal emailed us and sent us a link to each woman’s blog. I took a gander at everyone’s yesterday and I panicked a little. Everyone who was coming was really spiritual and I am, you know, not.
“Why do I have to be the terminally unique one?” I thought. “What if everyone there hates me because of my not-religious blog? What if they kick me out the minute I walk in?”
Do you do that to yourself? Imagine the worst-case scenario before every social event? The summer before college, I got a letter from school with the name of my new roommate, and here’s what I worried about. I worried she would not have an eye. Not only would she not have an eye, she would, inexplicably, have some sort of IV tube that went into her empty eye socket. And she would need help changing the tube every day.
I swear to you that is what I envisioned. I convinced myself it would be so. I even wanted to call the school and tell them. “I am a really nervous person, and you need to place me with someone who doesn’t need their tube changed.”
Then I got there and my roommate was totally hot and had all sorts of really good makeup and borrowable clothes and also? Both eyes.
The blogger chicks, conferring on whether to kick me the Sam Hill out.
Anyway, you will be shocked to hear that even though I walked into that room feeling like Ozzy Osbourne interrupting a worship service by chomping on a dove of peace, everyone was as nice as could be to me and I ended up having a really wonderful time.
Carpool Queen even fixed my bra straps. I am not kidding you. She regularly reads my blog, and she said, “Why am I not surprised to see your bra strap right now?” I lamented to her about how I had an issue and could NOT keep my straps in the correct spot. So she got right in there and adjusted them for me.
Oh, oh! Oh! And wait till you hear THIS. The woman sitting across from me last night? Who does not have a blog but reads all of ours? Totally figured out where TinyTown was based on stuff I said about the town. TinyTown has 3,000 people. Most North Carolinians don’t even know where I’m talking about when I say we used to live there. And this Nancy Drew figured it out.
She goes by the name K2. She climbed every mountain to figure out my deep secrets.
So anyway, did I mention it was a good time? Because it really was. We laughed, we complained, we told stories, we gave each other ideas for new posts. And we ate really, really fattening food.
At least I did.
Fortunately, carbs go straight to my hair.