Blogiversary III or I guess my un-famous friends aren't as appealing as The Bloggess

This third Blogiversary comes quick on the heels of one of the most important days in Popcorn Day history. 

Yesterday I met Jenny Lawson, also known in the blog world as The Bloggess. Millions and millions of blog followers, a book that’s been on The New York Times best-sellers list for months, and I met the crap out of her.  

I mean, of course, that I went to a book signing and exchanged a stammering sentence or two with her while someone took our picture. Compared to how I had planned our interaction to go, this was a big disappointment. It wasn’t her fault; she was classy and sweet. It was me. Because apparently I become an insecure seizing mess whenever I come in contact with someone I admire. 

Take that time, early on in Popcorn Day, when I commented on Emerson Merrick(from An Apple A Day)’s blog and she commented back on mine. Feel free to go back and look at the comments section, in which I had an all-caps freakout about the fact that she commented, and then deleted it and wrote a slightly smoother comment. And THEN I wrote another one that actually responded to her post. 

This is how it works, my friends: when I come in contact with celebrities, all I want to do is flip out. Because apparently I’m a 14-year-old girl. BUT I usually catch myself, and go into a mindset of, Hey, if I act really chill and clever maybe they’ll think I’m cooler than all of their other fans and then we’ll become real-life friends. 

Which is so likely. 

Another example of this is when I met another hero of mine, Andrew Zimmern, at a book signing. Sometime in my twitchy interaction with him, during which I told him that I don’t have any cash to give him for his book but would appreciate just a picture with him, he gave me a free copy in which he wrote, “You owe me $20.” 

Because he’s Andrew Zimmern and he’s awesome. 

[There’s a picture of me over-reacting to this like a little girl somewhere but “I don’t know where it is.”] 

Okay fine, here’s the picture. 

[I'm so embarrassed that you're seeing this.]

As I went home, I desperately tried to think of a way to become that cool fan that Andrew Zimmern decides should be his friend and invites over for dinner all the time, so I tried to think of something clever to tweet him.

@DayOfPopcorn  @AndrewZimmern: You were great today! I’m that guy you gave the free book to. I’ll get that $20 to you STAT. 

@AndrewZimmern  @DayOfPopcorn: That was a joke. The book’s on me. Have a good day. 

[ME, internally:  OH SH** ANDREW ZIMMERN DIDN’T GET MY JOKE. HOW DO I FIX THIS?]

@DayOfPopcorn  @AndrewZimmern: You SURE? Haha, just kidding. I know it was a joke. Thanks! 

[ME, internally: What is wrong with me? Andrew Zimmern’s never going to invite me over for dinner now.]

And then last night I met Jenny Lawson. She was brilliant.

As I waited in line for her to sign my book, I went through the same failed thought process in my head: What can I say in my short amount of time with her that’s clever enough to make her want to be my real-life friend? 

Once I reached her, I got all stuttery and nervous and this is pretty much how the whole interaction went: 

JENNY: Hi! 

ME: ...Hi! 

JENNY: [signing my book]

ME:  ....haha! It’s already signed because I pre-ordered it and you sent a signed bookplate with it, but HAHA! I want you to sign it again. Awkward. Funny funny. Thanks.

[ME, internally: What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s not funny or clever. Recover! Recover you idiot!]

JENNY: [smiles in a picture with me and Christie]

ME: Can I get a picture of just you and me? Because I’m a bigger fan than Christie is.

[ME, internally: Okay, that was supposed to be funny. BUT IT WASN’T. That’s you’re girlfriend you just shafted out of a picture. Not only are you not funny, you’re also a total dick to your girlfriend.] 

JENNY: Sure. [awkward chuckle as she smiles with me.] 

[I Instragrammed the sh** out of this picture.]

And then I got up and knocked over Copernicus, her taxidermied monkey, the subject of one of my favorite posts of hers. 

[ME, internally: SAY SOMETHING FUNNY ABOUT COPERNICUS.] 

ME: Whoops, I knocked over your monkey. 

JENNY: Oh, that’s fine. His name is Copernicus and he’s drunker than I am. 

ME: Haha! 

[ME, internally: WHY DID YOU CALL IT HER ‘MONKEY’? YOU KNOW ITS NAME. Now she doesn’t even think you’re a fan. In her eyes, you’re a person who just happened to walk into the line to have her sign a book you haven’t even read and you don’t know anything about Copernicus and OH, you’re a total dick to your girlfriend.] 

ME: Thanks so much for doing all this. It was wonderful to meet you. I’m such a huge fan. Thanks.

[ME, internally: You’ll never be her real-life friend.] 

Afterwards I tweeted her twice, and shortly after realized that I did the exact thing with Emerson Merrick and Andrew Zimmern. Why do I feel the need to impress celebrities so I can become their friends? Why can’t I just be satisfied with my normal, un-famous friends, who have accepted that I’m a total spaz? 

Probably because going thrift store shopping with The Bloggess or eating something strange with Andrew Zimmern or taking a segway tour with Oprah or sharing a panini with Albus Dumbledore or playing Scrabble with Barack Obama would make me the coolest cat around. 

Or maybe throwing some popcorn around with the 58 of you readers is pretty nice too. Happy blogiversary, friends! 



UPDATE: And then Jenny Lawson's book made me sleepwalk.