Geek Girl Love

OK, this will come as no surprise to any of my readers, but sometimes I'm a complete moron.

I'd been jazzed about the Neil Gaiman signing for days. I'd spent hours deliberating what to get signed, what I would say, whether I'd bring a camera. I'd called Books & Co. for information, downloaded directions from Mapquest.

And, of course, everything fell apart on the big day.

After my horrible bout of insomnia (44 hours, no sleep; I managed to get about 3 hours the following night), I went to happy hour on Friday night with some co-workers. Cheap beer was consumed. Bad dancing to cheesy top 40 music occurred. After a few hours, I decided I'd had enough and headed home. I gave Roger Mexico a quick call and passed out, completely exhausted.

I slept for 12 hours - a miracle! - and puttered around the apartment for a while. I had every intention of leaving early so I could arrive in plenty of time. JohnnyB was supposed to go with me, and had said he would call to coordinate where and when we would meet.

It looked good on paper. Too bad it didn't translate into reality.

I finally called JohnnyB to see if he still planned on going. Alas, no. The moving in was going much slower than expected. His parents were still in town and they were on their way to go sofa shopping. (His old couch, the Narcolounger™, was in permanent residence in the parental basement. They'd managed to get the unwieldy thing downstairs, but discovered when they were packing the truck that they couldn't figure out how to get it back up the steps.)

A few minutes later, Rosencrantz called. Guildenstern wanted to get his copy of Preludes and Nocturnes signed, but would be teaching tai chi that evening. Could I take his copy with me? I agreed to stop by and pick it up on my way to Dayton.

I left the house later than I'd planned, and after stopping to pick up Guildenstern's book, I ran to Wal-Mart to pick up a disposable camera and batteries for my CD player. It was at this point I realized I'd left the directions at home.

I decided to wing it. I had a vague idea where I was headed; I had friends who used to live near the bookstore 7 years ago. If I got lost, I'd stop for directions.

Remarkably, I only made one wrong turn and dashed into Books & Co., only to discover I'd got the time wrong (7:00, not 7:30) and Neil was already reading. The place was packed. I stood in the back behind a shelf of golf books, mentally berating myself.

The Q & A followed, and it alone was worth the drive. Neil seemed to be rather personable, with a wry sense of humor. (Although he bears a striking resemblance to an older British version of Brian-the-man-who-destroyed-my-life, which is kinda creepy.) He fielded questions for about half and hour, filling the audience in on upcoming film projects based on his work.( Several of them - Good Omens, Stardust, Neverwhere, and Death: The High Cost of Living are all in various stages of pre-production, and the short story "Chivalry" has also been optioned. Wow. I've been reading this guy's stuff for 11 years and now suddenly he's the hot property in Hollywood. Welcome to the party, ya johnny-come-latelies.)

And then the signing started. I was number 150 in line. Crap. I ventured off to the cafe in search of coffee. Knowing my luck, they'd only have decaf and the store would close by the time they got to number 140 or so.

While I was waiting, I met a really nice woman named Julie who had never read any of Neil's work and had just started reading American Gods at the recommendation of her boyfriend. He'd sent her to the signing with his galley copies of and Stardust, as well as a beautiful hardbound copy of Sandman: Season of Mists. I tried not to drool too much.

Finally, my number group got called, and I got to step up to the table. I have no idea what I said. I think I squeaked out a question about the journal (which he will be continuing through the tour), but all I could think was omigodimtalkingtoneilgaimanthisisquitepossiblyoneofthecoolestmomentsofmylife. The bookstore representative took my picture with him (the film's not developed yet, but I can guarantee I had the cheesiest grin in the known universe on my face - I'm sure I look like a complete lunatic), I gushed about a thousand thank yous, and floated back to my car, drunk on fangirl love.

So I guess it all turned out OK.

But I think the saddest part is that I haven't had a chance to start reading the damn book yet. Chalk it up to that glamorous lifestyle.