Hangin with the Harlot
So, I called up my very cool spinning knitting genius of a friend and I say, let's get my hubby to watch the kids and we'll go see the Harlot.
Guess what the major concern was in that statement? Nope, not that our husbands would think we were insane (or perhaps they'd be hopeful that some harlot-esque behaviors would rub off on us)... it was the "leave the kids with..." since I have a special needs kid, and sometimes my son and his friend are a bit like pouring gasoline on a fire.
Yet, arrangements were made to put fairy princess across the street to play with her friend (trios are bad, you know). Food was put out so that said young people and male people wouldn't starve. Arrangements were made to get books to have signed...and one husband was bribed with chocolate chip cookies and off we went!
We got there later than we'd have liked due to brokering an arms deal at home and tending an injury (sigh).
Still, we got this close:
You might have an idea of how truly close we were if you knew that a) the bookstore guestimated that there were 400-500 people there and b) I had remembered my good camera instead of my crappy phone one
So we laughed, we cried, we enjoyed, we starved... we finished up and had wine... and two total *strangers* were absolutely fabulous (and not in a BBC way) and stood in line promising to call me if the line got down to the end so I wouldn't miss her (I'd left my friend and wine while I stood in line, and I wanted my books signed).
Here she is being kind and signing my two books:
and here, probably because I"d just explained that I was the one with a particularly lengthy explanation of statistics on her blog, she's got a "you *are* nuts, and not in a good way" look on her face. But there is, intermingled with her "nut" expression, the glorifyingly satistifed expression of yarn fondling--this was camel yarn I bought at the zoo (yes, the zoo! They have yarn there! And I put up a good show of pretending to my kids that it was for THEM that I went today).
Of course all of this made me so excited that I soon accidentally took a picture of my hand, which Steph agreed must appear here:
If I am ever blown to bits (probably could happen if, for instance, I buy silk and cashmere yarn at an astonishingly mind blowing price or, dare I suggest, get it FREE) you can identify me by my hand. So look closely.
And then, she was kind enough to appear in a picture with me, doubtless to help the police investigation of attempted homicide via statistics later. I swear officer, it was all just a misunderstanding. One mention of outliers and I couldn't help myself, but I swear I didn't mean any harm...
Hey look, I'm taller. See? See everyone (children) who mocks me? I'm taller than someone *famous* so there!