THANKS
First, thanks to everyone who's come out to see me on the road. I feel honored to have met each one of you! I have so little patience when it comes to waiting, I wouldn't have stood in line to meet a reincarnated Ronald Reagan. So, the fact anyone waited for me just blows me away, especially since every one of you charmed me. (And some of you touched my heart with your thoughtfulness and your stories. Y'all know who you are, so give yourselves a hug.) Anyway, thank you again!
THIS WEEK
I'm sorry for not posting more on the road. I'd planned to but my BlackBerry deiced to stop recognizing Typepad for some reason at the beginning of last week. I'm going to have Fletch take a look at it before I head back out today. By the way, I will be in the following places this week:
Portland
Monday/May 19
7:30pm
Powell’s
1005 W. Burnside
Portland, OR 97209
Seattle (Lake Forest Park)
Tuesday/May 20
7:00pm
Third Place Books
17171 Bothell Way NE
Lake Forest Park, WA 98155
San Francisco
Wednesday/May 21
7:30 pm
Books Inc. in the Marina
2251 Chestnut Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
Oakland
Thursday/May 22
7:00pm
Good Great Place for Books
6120 LaSalle Avenue
Oakland, CA 94611
Hope to see you there! (No need to warn me about potential bad weather for I have brought it with me to very goddamned city. I'm not just talking rain - I'm saying tornadoes and flooding and sinkholes. Aargh.) (And yes, I'm sorry about your biblical weather and all, but what really pisses me off is my hair has yet to look good at an event.)
OR A DICKEY MIGHT WORK IF IT'S TOO HOT OUT
Speaking of events, I'm learning a little something with every one I do. For example, did you know that when you wear a dress that didn't look NEARLY so low-cut on the internet and you sit down to, oh, say sign books or something, that every single photograph you will see of yourself later that night will show a big chunk of your black bra? And did you know even if you buy the double-stick boob tape to hold your dress closed, if you peel it back even once to re-adjust, it will come undone, not only showing a generous swath of underwear but also large, mangled sticky bits of tape and this will happen when you're shaking the hand of all the important people at your publisher's office? And then if you buy stronger tape, it will be too strong, and when you peel it off, you'll take an entire layer of skin with it, leaving you with enormous tape hickeys? I have one word for you people: TURTLENECKS.
Can't wait to show you all my scabs when the book tour re-convenes in mid-June! (New cities to be announced soon-ish.)
MY LACK OF SELF CONTROL, LET ME SHOW IT TO YOU
Here's another a quick road story. A while back I wrote a post on cupcakes and I got more feedback from it THAN ANYTHING ELSE I HAVE EVER WRITTEN IN THE FIVE YEARS I'VE HAD A WEBSITE. Seriously, our nation is never going to be on the same page for issues like gun control, welfare, the economy, the environment, etc. We're never going to come to terms on tastes great or less filling and hybrids vs. Hummers and there will always be Yankees fans and Red Sox fans, never the 'tween shall meet. Fortunately, all it takes for us to be of one mind is some sugar, butter, and flour.
Because of this, a number of you in cities with great bakeries, e.g. New York and Dallas, wrote and offered to bring treats to my events and I was all, "Hells yeah, cupcakes!" But after my enthusiastic response, I began to think about it. I mean, for God's sake, I'm neurotic to the point of mentally ill when it comes to issues like "safety" and "cleanliness." Were I not temporarily made insane by the idea of a box of treats with my name on it, I'd have never agreed. I asked myself, "Really? You're going to eat food from a stranger? Really? No."
I received my first box of cupcakes and cookies in New York.
Um... guess what?
Apparently I totally WILL eat food from a stranger.
In Dallas I received more treats and I took them back to my room, quickly woofing them all down.
Then I threw up in the sink.
The items were fine (delicious actually!) and there was no foul play. I'm pretty sure barfing was just God's way of saying, "You're on the road to promote a book about getting healthy - next time, have a dinner consisting of a salad and lean protein instead of three cupcakes and two glasses of wine, you dumbass."
WANTED: ONE NEMESIS. INQUIRE WITHIN.
What else happened while I was gone? Oh, yeah, I lost my damn nemesis. For some background - competition is what always spurs me on to achievement. Because I'm a jerk who can't motivate herself without bringing hate into the equation, I always pick a person who's achieved what I want and then I watch and emulate her every move, all the while despising her with the fire of 10,000 angry (immature) suns.
Unfortunately, it turns out the object of my wrath is actually really fucking nice and now I need a new arch rival.
I know, I know, I'm disappointed in myself, too. What can I say? A sincere hug is totally my Kryptonite.
While I figure out who to hate next, you should buy my ex-nemesis new book because it's one of the reasons Such a Pretty Fat exists. Go pre-order it now. I will wait.
APRES TOUR, LE DELUGE
Finally, it's nice to know that no matter what happens with this new book, nothing in my life is going to change. Case in point, I was in the middle of getting some big news on Wednesday (will tell you as soon as I get the official OK) and while I was leaping and cheering and fielding three calls, I got the following urgent text from Fletch:
"One of the cats threw up on the cleaning lady's shoe. How much tip should I give her? I cleaned it up, but that's just rude (and gross.)"
Yes.
Welcome to my world.
You can come on in... but I'd suggest you leave your shoes on.
