A couple Fridays ago Jenny Lawson, author of The Bloggess, was in my town rather than hers. I was pro this occurrence since my desire to avoid Texas is greater than my desire to see the Bloggess in person. Lucky for me than that she was on a book tour promoting her sort-of-true memoir, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened.
I made Kris go with me because I like having friends along to things. And it was good that I did because without her, an awesome thing never would have happened.
Jenny read a chapter from her book, admitted to having thrown up backstage, elicited much laughter and cooing, said “y’all” in her adorable accent several times, and looked overly warm. The bookstore’s reading space was small and we fans crammed in like just so many more human shaped books in rows exuding our accompanying odors and heats.
At the end there was a signing portion and it went by row. Kris and I were seated in the last row so we had some time to kill. In discussing what would happen when it was our turn, we completely foreshadowed the future.
Jenny: Is that my calendar?!
Me: My book hasn’t come in the mail yet.
Jenny: That’s too bad.
Me: Yeah, so I thought maybe you could sign this instead?
Jenny: I’d love to! What name?
Me: Thank you. Mpmh.
This story is only mostly true. I forgot the calendar at home and didn’t have anything for her to sign. I forged all that at home after Kris and I ran away from the sweltering bookstore. But it is true that I am terrified enough of talking to strangers that I probably would actually think my name is Garreth when questioned. It’s silly though considering how much social anxiety Jenny Lawson has that I would still be terrified. It’s also weird, I think, to meet a (in)famous blogger in person. You already kind of feel like you know her. You sort of think you’re best friends even though you don’t actually really know her at all. That’s one of the things I love most about her writing (blog and book), how warm and inclusive it feels. You really can think it’s a friend telling you a story. Even if that story is about hobos eating her pet duck (one of my favorite bits from the book. Typically I would be so horrified by animal cruelty but she made it funny. Terrible genius.)
On the drive home, Kris decided some guy in another car hated her driving as she kept getting confused by lanes. “Arch-nemesis!” she exclaimed. I was still stuck in lovely musings about how Jenny met her husband in a bookstore and he gave a corny pick-up line.
Me: This would be a funny story if I started dating him. How we met, speeding cars, arch-nemesy!
Kris: You’re going to date my ARCH-NEMESIS? Do you understand the concept of best friendship?
Me: No. And then we’d get married and you could give a toast and it would be so romantic.
Kris: I would not attend the wedding of my arch-nemesis, you fool.
Me: OMG! He’s already married! There’s a whore in the front seat.
Kris: I told you so. (nods knowingly)
And that’s how Kris and I made married arch-nemeses. The End.