Ch-ch-ch-changes

I got up bright and early.
Took a shower.
Had a little breakfast.
Spent a little time on the computer.
Did my hair.
Did my makeup.
Put on my best suit.
Drove to work.
Handed in a carefully worded letter and my key...























AND QUIT.


















I don't know if it's the meds or the brownie I had for breakfast, but I'm feeling surprisingly okay with this. Maybe Katie's right. Maybe the panic will set in tomorrow.

Oooo yikes. It's been over a year. Ouch.

You know, I don't really care about celebrities. To me, they are a nice addition to society, but not a mandatory one. Academics and musicians (classical ones, not 'recording artists'), however are a HUGE prerequisite to any sophisticated and functioning civilization, so as you can imagine, they are my rock gods. I worship them.

But I'm also really awkward around them. I forget to think and I don't know what to say. I know I'm smart, but how do I go about talking smartysmart language to someone who is also talks smartysmart without the poncypretentious dialect hitting me faster than the Russian Maffia at a Piroshky stand?

Well, it turns out my brain does all this for me. It simply stops thinking. Boom. Problem solved. Except now I've achieved the complete opposite effect of what I was trying to protray. Instead of talking smartysmart, I access my Slackjawyokel panel and go retarded for 15 minutes.

Such is the case for last night's episode. I met Steve Berry, author of The Amber Room, Romanov Prophecy, Third Secret, Templar Legacy and the Alexandria Link. He's my favorite author besides JK Rowling and Jane Austen who are, for very different reasons, a little less approachable. I had been looking forward to meeting him ever since I heard he was coming to do a book signing in Seattle.

I was so nervous given my past behavior towards academics (I once told a very prominent musician after mumbling my way through the usual how-de-do's, that it was nice to meet a musician that had actually done something with his life. It's memories like these that generally cause the self loathing and embarrassed seething that goes on in my brain and causes me to lose sleep at night), and when we got there, he was doing a regular question and answer session.

He was so charming. And approachable and I immediately liked him and felt that I could relate to him. Both discoveries completely disarming me and making me relax a little. I felt like I was going to do fine. But then something catastrophic happened: I had a question. Oh shit. What if it came out like, "Um... have you... uh. When did... I mean, can you tell... humenahchtiasjk?" Dare I raise my hand?

Tentatively, I raised it in the air, but he wasn't finished answering someone elses question and I immediately brought it back down to my side, straigtening my hair on the way. He wasn't going to answer it. That's fine. That way, I don't actually have to speak. So much the better. For everyone.

"Yes, the young lady in the back."

He was looking right at me. The handsome author I idolized actually addressed me personally. All at once I was 13 again and giving a speech in front of the whole class. Everyone had turned around to look at me and I felt rooted to the spot, like in the dream where the monster is chasing you, but you can't move your legs. What was I doing? I'm a professional actor. SURELY it can't be this hard to talk to someone else.

"I was just wondering if we ever find out more about Henrik and his background with his son."

YES!!!!! A whole sentence! Well done you! I knew I could do it.

As he went on to answer my question, I smiled every time he looked at me, as much smitten with him as I was with my amazing ability to talk. Soon, the Q&A ended and it was time to get my book signed. Katie and I joined the line and the nervousness reappeared. So I could talk to him in front of people, so what? What would happen when we were face to face? I shuddered with the thought.

My turn came quickly and his assistant handed my book to him and he got ready to sign it, "Did you want your name?"

I nodded, "Jennifer."

He signed it.

I stared.

He looked at me.

I stared.

He smiled.

I stared. Say something moron. "I'm sorry, it's just that I can't talk to people I really look up to and admire."

He seemed genuinely appreciative, "Well thank you."

I'm not actually sure what happened after that. I think I said something about his books and how I really enjoyed them and that I was half way through Alexandria Link. But I'm not entirely sure because as we were talking, I could feel the blush creep up my face starting at my chin and filling up to the roots of my hair. Oh my God, my was on fire.

And I think he knew because he seemed a little amused and truly delighted because he shook my hand as the conversation came to a close.

"Was his hand supple?" Katie teasingly asked me later.

"I don't know, I was numb. I couldn't feel anything." I said.

All in all, I learned something. I was able to talk to someone I think is just the Bee's Knees without sounding like a complete idiot. Huge step up for me.

As we left the store, I looked at the enscription in my book:

"Jennifer-

I hope you enjoy this one.

Steve Berry. "

Huzzah.