[almost] meeting PW

A few weeks ago, PW announced she was coming to town for a book signing.
My heart stopped.

Why wouldn't she want to come to Seattle and meet her best friend?
Because I am awesome and fantastic and we were MFEO (and I have that whole humility thing going for me).

Back in February, I got a delivery from Amazon.
Chuck was immediately suspicious because I usually run all Internetting purchases past him. Not because he doesn't trust my spending, but he feels I'd be highly likely to help a Nigerian Princess without constant supervision. It's true. I'm a giver. Anyhoo. This mystery package. I hadn't the slightest idea what I'd bought myself, but I was super psyched to find out.

Turns out, I wasn't sleep shopping again.
It was a for-no-reason gift from my best friend Cheryl. That's my favorite kind of gift. The no-reason-kind and the Cheryl kind. Score.

It was The Pioneer Woman's cookbook and I died.
It was everything I wanted and more.
Because PW is everything I want to be and more.

PW is my Godfather.
Leave the gun, take the cannoli. And the Nikon. And the butter. And the Punks.

Her visit to Seattle was ticker tape in my mind. I could get my Cheryl-sent PW cookbook signed and all would be right in my life. Except that the signing was April 17. Which didn't actually work for me. It was my school's auction and something about being a teacher means you can't actually skip those things. And they wouldn't reschedule for me.

But I had to try.

The signing started at 5.
The auction started at 6.
Dang. Still. Had. To. Try.

I wasn't really sure how signings worked and apparently, I should have been tutored beforehand. I didn't know to get the tickets early. I thought you came and lined up.
Susie fail.

I got to Third Place Books at 2:30 and sat. And waited. And waited some more.
I wasn't really dressed for the occasion so I stuck out a little. I was in auction attire. I found out later that my new book signing friend called me Miss Fancy before we were BFF. That's ok. I called her Voodoo Lady and now we'll get to why.

See, everyone was there with a friend.
Except me. I was a party of 1 because Cheryl sucks and moved to North Carolina which is a bag of issues in my life. So I sat alone with a book about Reading Instruction (jealous??) until I became friends with Voodoo Lady.

Voodoo Lady was making a doll for PW's littlest girl punk.
BUT, it looked like she was doing voodoo on the doll, sticking it repeatedly with a pin. In my mind, someone, somewhere had done something very bad and for once it wasn't me.
I texted everyone I knew about this.
I was seeing real life, New Orleans style voodoo, and everyone needed to know.
Then I found out that it wasn't voodoo, but a sewing technique, and it was worse than finding out about Santa. The depression hasn't subsided.
This is the voodoo doll. Tell me something. If you saw someone stabbing this with a single pin for 10 minutes, what would your thoughts be?

Voodoo Lady was a near perfect substitute for Cheryl.
She was one of those people that can strike up a conversation with a stranger and sustain it for 3 hours. I've seen Cheryl do this a million times. I wouldn't even know where to begin. We traded blogs (her's is here --I made it on her blog. Holla.). We traded Photoshop secrets. We traded PW recipes. It was like meeting a person who speaks English when you're in a foreign country. It felt like home.
This is us.
We needed a myspace pic to commemorate the experience together. Obviously.

Voodoo, or Jesse as her driver's license apparently says, kept trying to break it to me that I wouldn't be able to do the Auction and meet PW. She was definitely a Mom: trying, ever so gently, every 15 minutes, to point out how unrealistic my expectations were. Finally she got me to a point where I could admit that maybe I was fine with just seeing PW in person and that was that.

And that's about the time she said she'd get my book signed for me and mail it to suburbia.
Who does this for a stranger?
Cheryl would. And Jesse definitely would. She's already sent the book.

And it was also about this time that PW walked through the door. I bolted, purple taupe dress waving in the wind, to catch a glimpse and a picture. And breathe the same air as her. Too far?
Got it.
I took it. Wee'd myself. And fell.

Apparently, running in these is a hazard for people named Susie.
I've never quite understood what to run in and what to just wear mellow. I'll work on that.


There she was.
In all her happy, lovely, PW glory.

I never did get to meet her.
My group didn't get called until 2 1/2 hours after I'd left. I never had a chance.

But I did get to meet the oldest Punk.
I wish I'd been that nice and gracious at 13.
I bet Fe wishes that too.

At least I got my book signed.
And by Voodoo Jesse's account, PW was a big fan of my post-it covered book.

Don't judge. I like to label my cookbooks. They're as close to a journal as I'll ever keep.

It was probably the best, almost meeting that I could have hoped for.
Save for the almost part. And the no-Cheryl part.
Because Cheryl would have planned ahead and gotten us tickets a week before.
No. That's a lie.
She would have shown up 15 minutes before the signing.

xoxo.
Sue
don't ever call me sue. that's for cheryl only.

6 comments:

  1. You are a riot. Thanks for a lovely afternoon. Did you text your friends the truth eventually?
    -Voodoo

    ReplyDelete
  2. BEST. POST. EVER! I think you might even be a bit generous with the 15 minutes beforehand. Although, this is our idol we're talking about, so I may have made an exception.

    I'm driving to Charlotte, NC on Friday, May 7th to meet her in the flesh. Call me if you find a cheap flight and want to come over. No, I'm not kidding. I will buy you all the voodoo doll supplies you need. And dinner. And I'll make cookies.

    Love you more than my luggage! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think that if you mail her your cookbook she'll sign it and send it back too. Just for future reference - you know, if and when there's a PW Cookbook Part II. P.S. Make the cinnamon rolls - you'll think you've died and gone to heaven. No joke.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Awwwww. Saw your comment on PW's latest post and had to come read your saga. You're a wonderful writer; I bet you DO get to meet her some day! Who knows... you might even get an invite to the ranch....

    ReplyDelete
  5. I found you through Voodoo via PW. And am now spending a stalkerish amount of time rifling through your archives. I'm completely jealous of your easter egg hunt. Hilarious. Added you to my google reader to up more stalker quotient a little more.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Cheryl is the best! A couple years ago she suprised Gwen with a darling little bag from Gwen Stefani's clothing line. On it, it says, "Gwen is my homegirl." I think I love it more than Gwen does.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

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