David Sedaris talked pretty and signed my book

I’ve confirmed what I’ve long feared – I’m no where near cool enough to be friends with David Sedaris in real life.

You’d think I would be.

We’re both writers. People think both of us are funny. And we both date boys.

But when he asked if I knew that breast milk could cure eye infections, as I approached him Thursday night – I stumbled without ever finding a clever response. Likely because I’d never had the good fortunate to need breast milk for an eye infection.

My friend Beth and I had just been to his show, and then waited in a two-hour line set up roller-coaster-wait style in the hottest conference room this side of the Mississippi.

“Oh. Um. infections?”

“EYE infections.”

“Oh. Um. No. Um. Oh. Oh. Um. Thanks so much for coming to the quad-cities and signing everyone’s book. I think that’s really awesome,” I said faster than a speeding bullet. “I have a question for you. How do you think your career would be different if you were just starting out now? What with all the digital media and blogs?”

“Well, I think it would be worse. Everyone expects everything to be free now,” he told the newspaper reporter still chugging through her company’s pay cuts. Sedaris went on to explain how he’d negotiated his book contract for a three-book deal, and then started talking about how much he makes in advance.

At that point, he asked the two girls who still look for coupons before going to a sit-down restaurant,  how much we think he gets for an advance.

“I don’t know.”

“Just guess. Take a guess.”

“Ten thousand dollars?” I said.

For real.

That’s what I said.

I honest to God, at that moment, thought $10,000 was a lot of money.

“$100,000?” Beth chimed in, trying to save me.

He gave us a blank stare that said, quite clearly “you are in no way cool enough to be my friend in real life.”

“You think I get $100,000 as an advance? Really?”

To quote Sedaris himself, “It seems open and shut now, but at the time I was truly conflicted.”

Was $100,000 too much? No. It couldn’t be too much. Too little? By how much?

Crap.

This isn’t going well.

I swear to ink, if this man doesn’t tell me how much his book advances are, I’m googleing the crap out of it the second we get home.

“Well, let’s say I make $2 per book. The way an advance works, is that if they give me $3 million before hand,  I then have to sell 1.5 million copies before I start getting royalties,” he explained.

Frick.

The man makes a $3 million advance, and I guessed $10,000.

“Oh. Wow. Ok. I understand. Umm, my friend beth has a quick question I think.” ask him!” I whisper-yelled to her.

“Oh. Um. What’s your favorite word?”

“Teanaste’lle’n”

“Oh.” “I don’t know what that means”

I CANNOT BELIEVE I DON’T KNOW THE MEANING OF DAVID SEDARIS’ FAVORITE WORD. I suck at life.

“It’s Ethiopian for hello”

Phew. I wasn’t supposed to know what it means. It’s not even my language. Thank dictionary.

Then beth told him about the Web site Etiquette Hell because he’d told a few stories about rude people during the show and had requested more from readers during the signing. He then took out his notepad, wrote it down, and said he’d check it out.

Maybe we redeemed ourselves.

Probably not.

But maybe.

Oh. and Don’t worry. I gave him my blog card.

Sedaris doesn’t allow photos. At all. (Ask him about that time at Costco, if you ever get a chance), so I don’t have photographic proof this all happened. However, I will post the super-duper awesome picture I have of my signed copy of “When you are engulfed in flames.” You can be jealous if you want. I’m cool with it.

sedaris

– yes. he drew that picture of the lincoln-turtle. no, I’m not sure why.

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Daily ramblings. (Like twitter, but longer).

I should be asleep right now, seeing as how I have to wake up in 6.75 hours.

I used to be a 9-hours a night kinda girl. Alas, not so much now.

It’s the stress man.

Seriously.

And some other things.

Lucky for you though, I use this time to blog. So we’ve got that going for us.

Let’s see. Well first, thanks for all the wishes of support after my last post. It was much appreciated.

I do want to note that I know I write very honest things on here, and sometimes they come off as dark. I think most people freak out about life though. Actually, I KNOW they do. I’m great at making friends, and all my friends always tell me how freaked the F out they are.

I just write it down.

And then post it for everyone and their pumpkin to see.

I understand the consequences, and I’m cool with it. But like I said, thanks for the wishes of support.

Speaking of nothing, (as my dear blog-friend Krista would say) (speaking of Krista, that girl hasn’t posted in a hot minute) I’m pretty sure my roommate tricked me into a down comforter.

Being a vegetarian and all, I usually frown on such things. But when she offered me the best blanket eva in all the land (no doubt so we could keep heating costs down for a change) she assured me it was fake.

I’m here to tell you, I’ve had fake down – this is not that.

This is amazing.

This is envelop you with love wrapped in hugs and smiles while sprinkling fairy dust in your dreams good. In the interest of warmth though, my current plan is to continue pretending it’s fake.

(Don’t tell PETA).

Moving along, I had a fight with a guy last night.

Not really a fight. More a “this is never going to work is it.”

I know. I know. You’re thinking “Crystal? You were dating someone?! What?”

I just like to keep those things on the down low. You understand. Maybe it’s because I knew this particular thing could never work.

Irregardless, I feel like someone went inside my chest and lopped off  a piece of my bleeding red heart.

Just took it. Just like that.

And now it’s gone, and my heart will be stronger because of it in the end.

But today sucked. Today I felt sad and lost and lopsided.

And of course it rained today. The kind of rain that lasts for hours and makes you cry when you get a second to yourself in the car.

Of course.

But it’s 12:09 now.

Which means it’s been Friday for nearly 10 minutes and it’s time to start a fantabulous weekend slated to include old friends, pizza and a corn maze.

It’s time to start healing my heart.

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maybe my singleness IS my fault

OK.  I’m on a dating site. (Again).

And I mostly just ignore 90 percent of the weird guys who try to contact me on said site.

But every once in a while a boy with decent grammar, witty comments and normal-looking pictures comes across my screen, and I give it a go.

I’ve been talking to this one guy for a few day now, and he seems to pass the “NOT CRAZY” test.

And today, he was all “let’s get a drink”

Except, I just realized, while sitting in front of my laptop at 11:45 p.m. after just getting home from work, that my schedule is as follows:

Wednesday: work during the day. youth group planning, work out and see a friend at night.

Thursday: youth group stuff and workout in the morning. work at night.

Friday: work during the day. go to the city at night to hang out with old grad school friends.

Saturday: come back from the city in the morning. take youth group to corn maze at night.

Sunday: church/youth group in the morning. workout in the afternoon, rest at night.

and then Monday, it’s back to work.

Doesn’t leave much time for hot dates does it?

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