It's like you were with me the whole time, only you didn't get to feel the crunch of my burnt, crimped hair. Which, by the way, was completely TORE UP by the time I got to the book signing, thankyouverymuch.
Let's start from the beginning, shall we?
My hair "before." Otherwise known as "How I Should Have Left It."
The well-intended crimping iron.
"During." (And here's a valuable lesson: Worry LESS about getting a photo of yourself crimping your hair and MORE about the fact that your hair is SMOKING. Might help with breakage. FYI.)
Um, if this is my "immediately after," you can only imagine how frizzy my hair was after an hour and forty five minutes in traffic, walking two blocks from the parking structure IN THE WIND to the Cheesecake Factory and then sitting another hour before the actual book signing. YEAH.
Let's just agree that we'll add "hair crimping" to the long list of Things I'm Not Good At, right there along side cooking, cleaning and arithmetic.
Ready to go!
I knew homeboy in the red car was driving kinda funny, but I assumed he was tapping the brakes to the beat of some song... Nope, seems he had a whole different rhythm happening which was evident a little later on when out of the floor boards, seemingly, his passenger magically appeared. Huh.
Twittering to find everyone else. WHERE ARE YOU BITCHES?
Found them already sitting down at the Cheesecake Factory, waiting on me. I blame the goddamn traffic.
Dinner! (Don't they all look THRILLED to have their photo taken?)
Pay up bitches.
Yes, that's me outside the Barnes & Noble Jen Lancaster display, rockin' my new Urban Outfitter shades and 'fro-y, frizzy no longer crimped but still crispy hair.
Waiting. I'd say "patiently" but you all know that's a lie. Plus, it was like 80 bajillion degrees and I was so hot, my hypercolor shirt was getting confused. I kept going from blue to white to blue to white to just sorta tye-dye.
Twittering while we wait. Which, if you didn't already know, is soooo the new "whistle while you work."
Everyone is holding up their copies of Pretty in Plaid. Some girl up at the front is trying to prove she's a bigger fan than us by taking a photo of everyone with their books. LISTEN BITCH, IF ANYONE HERE IS GOING TO GO TO JAIL FOR ACCOSTING JEN LANCASTER OUT OF LOVE AND ADMIRATION, IT'S GOING TO BE ME, OK? Fortunately for her, she sat down before I could tackle her.
Because a fanny pack THIS COOL deserves a close-up. And yes, you're looking at it upside down, but that's because I took the photo while I was wearing it... confusing, I know. BUT RAD, RIGHT?
O!M!G! It's JEN LANCASTER!
Um, if I wasn't so excited to have met and stood next to and had a brief conversation with Jen Lancaster and need photographic evidence to prove it, this photo would never be seen because HELLO! THE HAIR! Oh my GAWD how could you people let me do that to myself? But Jen? She's LOVELY and DELIGHTFUL and had security so I refrained from touching her. This time.
THIS is what success looks like. At least in my dreams. How sweet is that?
What you didn't see was on the next table over, I opened up an artsy looking photography book only to reveal a full-page photo of a completely nude, as in FULL FRONTAL, man and just about died right there on the second floor of the Glendale Barnes and Noble. You can't take me anywhere.
What? You want me to shut-up and get on with the giveaway? Fine. Like I said, it was like you were with me at the book signing, only you weren't. And since you weren't, I brought back a little souvenir: a signed copy of Jen Lancaster's Pretty in Plaid. In the comments section of this post, tell me who you would love to stalk/meet/accost in real life. (Can be an author, a celebrity, whoever.) Enter as many times as you want, each comment = one entry. Giveaway runs through Sunday, May 24 ending at 9:00 PM Pacific Time.