It is a little after 2PM... I am at "A Real Bookstore" (that is the name of the bookstore) and at about 7PM, The Bloggess will be here. So, yeah, I may be a little early. BUT, they start handing out the wristbands that you have to have to get your book signed at 5PM, so I guess I am just "prepared" and not freakishly early. When I picked up my book, they asked me if I was coming back later. No... I am staying right here. Because I am not going to take even the remotest chance that this will somehow NOT happen. It is not often that I get the chance to meet someone I have dreamed of meeting. So I am crazy excited for the chance to meet Jenny. AND... AND... I might also get to meet Lisa, who will be here with a penguin. I don't have a penguin, but I do have a necklace that I got for Jenny before I found out that she hates jewelry (yeah, I died a little inside when I read that in her blog a couple days ago, but I am hoping that somehow the particular necklace I have will meet with her approval. I mean, I don't expect her to wear it if she hates jewelry, but maybe it will make a nice accessory for Juanita. Yes, accessorizing your weasel can be important...and difficult. Because there is a bit of an anti-weasel sentiment in retail.... or at least there was before Jenny came along.
It's been a bit of an emotional week and I am worried that I am going to make an ass of myself in front of Jenny and/or Lisa because I don't do well with social situations. Plus, there is already someone in the blogosphere that thinks I am some sort of dangerous psychopath. And the worst part of that is that I have no clue why the person came to that conclusion. I'm trying to not dwell on it, but it's hard sometimes because it makes you start second guessing EVERYTHING you do.
I mean, I do realize that I have always been "weird" and that when I worked in residential facilities for adults with mental illnesses, the counselors would always tease me that they felt that having me around was a bit like having an inmate running the asylum... partially because of my innate strangeness and partially because I often had really good insights on what was really going on with some of the residents (because I dealt with them as PEOPLE and not as case studies). Apparently when you are in "the system" you eventually get tired of everyone you encounter being on a mission to "fix" you when sometimes what you really want is for someone to just LISTEN to you. And since I was just an Administrative Assistant who took care of the business part of things and not a therapist of any sort, the clients actually TALKED to me. But not like client-to-therapist but more like someone remembering what it was like to have a conversation with people that didn't involve any effort to change you. I wonder sometimes if "the system" might work better if people were treated more like PEOPLE and less like broken things that needed repairing. (And that, my friends, is why I am not in management or in the mental health field). I was once told by a co-worker at one of the residential facilities that I would eventually stop caring about the residents. I never wanted to get to that point and knew that if I did, that was the day I should get out of the field.
This post has gotten really long and i still have several hours to go before Jenny will be here. But I'll wrap up this post and write another after the evening is over. I'm sure it will be magical.