Stephanie is finally back from school! Can I get a 'WOOO!'? WOOO! It's things like this that tempt me into abandoning my job, the lab, and my summer classes (but seriously, when do I get a break!? Maybe in August cause I'm going to Disney World!?!? More on that later), and going home every weekend. How else am I going to fulfill life long duties such as watching Dirty Dancing? We didn't even get to our Vin Diesel marathon. Tisk, tisk, tisk, I guess I really do need to go back soon. Or maybe people just need to come visit me, which they say they might. Gives me something to look forward to, reassures me that life did not just end after this weekend.
Goo Goo Dolls concert with Matchbox 20. Alright, alright, technically it was Matchbox 20 with Goo Goo Dolls but let's be honest here, we were really just in it for the Goo.
As proof of our loyalty, I didn't even get any photos of Matchbox 20. To be honest, Matchbox 20 was pretty good too, but you'll never hear me say that in front of Sarah.
Didn't have much time to recover from the concert when the next day was the Neil Gaiman signing. We were there much later than we thought we would be because the event actually started two hours late. Because of the plane crash in San Fran, Gaiman was understandably delade. I still can not believe that he even made it as on time as he did. I would have thrown up my hands and said 'oh well, skip this state!' but he didn't. He rushed straight on over to the theater from the airport, rushed through a quick meal and presigned a bunch of books so that people who could not stay now because of it being 2 hours late, could still get signed books. Rather sweet, really. But just look how close we were!
Really, he is a brilliant man. He read a segment from the Ocean at the End of the Lane, answered some questions, and then read us something from a new children's book he's working on (spoilers, it's going to be great). After they dismissed us section by section to go do the meet and greet and sign. It's a good thing Sarah is a devil with a computer and got us such good seats because that also meant we were relatively close to the beginning of the dismissal. We only had to wait an hour or two in line where our friend Jill who had seats up in the balcony were some of the last to go through and ended up waiting until around 2am.
That blob of black with a face? Yeah, that's him!
Oh my glob, no really, that's him!
Stop creeping Lisa and enjoy the moment!
It was around this moment that personally, my brain stopped working and thus stopped taking photos. It's why we don't really have one with him. They were opposed to having photos taken with him because it takes precious time but that had not stopped some other people. I think I forgot that I even had a camera in my hand to begin with. I barely made it through alive. At least Sarah talked to him without insulting him. I was not so lucky.
Is that just my thing?
Seriously, why do I do that?
It has happened every single time I meet someone brilliant or relatively famous.
It has happened every single time I meet someone brilliant or relatively famous.
I become a -insert your vulgarity of choice- and end up being actually quite rude.
And I did it again yesterday night.
To Neil Gaiman. NEIL GAIMAN! It will probably haunt me forever because unlike Bruce Boxleitner, I did not have the chance to go back and say "Sorry, I was a great big bag of butts to you. Forgive me and let's be friends forever."
So there's this part in the first chapter or so of his new book that talks about how when he was little, he believed bread was supposed to be presliced, white, and taste like nothing. The baker in me disagrees like a dragon couple disagreeing over the right shade of green for their curtains. So even though we're standing in line and I still have no idea what I'm going to say to the man, this thing about the bread is just chilling in the back of my mind, waving awkwardly every once and a while. By the time we get up to him and he's told Sarah that he hopes one day her writing is as good as his if not better, it's my turn and I derp. Something happens and all of a sudden we're talking about bread. Because I seem to do that in every day conversation quite frequently. But I say "Well, he doesn't even like bread, so whatever." (to be read in your most practiced Mean Girls inner voice). And I'll never be able to take that back. Which I wish I could, especially since he then tells me that he found out at a young age that he can't actually tolerate bread. Yeah, Lisa, you're the biggest bag of butts and he still signed your copy of Coraline. What a guy.
There were a few other things that happened this weekend and all, exciting stories that I might tell next week if I feel like it but right now I'm just very very tired. I decided to just wake up early and drive the two hours back to school this morning instead of leaving last night and getting in late. That was probably not the smartest idea. Although I enjoyed getting to have breakfast with my parents, I nearly died in class today when I had to sit through a two hour lecture, most of which was done in the dark while viewing slides. I only fell asleep twice.
Haha...One day I hope I meet someone famous and you are with me. I would love to see all this in action.
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