Meeting Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman

Also known as "The Day I Acted Like a Complete Doofis."
It never would have happened if Aubrey or Christie had been there.  I'm convinced of this. 
If Aubrey had bothered to fly in from Minneapolis for the weekend and Christie hadn't gone and given birth, one of two things would have happened.  1. They would have acted like a star struck idiot with me, and it would have offset my freakishness or 2. They would have kept me cool like cucumber.  {I don't really blame you, ladies, this one is all on me}

Instead, this is what went down.

Let me set the stage. 
Our tale starts early in the morning with me getting showered and making sure that I use the really good smelling soaps, as if she is going to be sniffing my hair.  I tried on three necklaces, and asked the opinion of my 8 year old daughter if I looked "just right."  I put on my good underwear, because lets face it, that's what you do on special days.  Not that I would ever dream of notifying Ree that I'm so excited to meet her that I deemed her worthy enough of my really good drawers.  Because that would be embarrassing, unlike what I had planned to say and do. 

I made her a card.  Complete with picture of my kids and husband enjoying one of her recipes.  Of which I was going to so casually hand to her while she signed my book.

My husband, in all of his gloriousness took care of six kids for me while I decided to drive 2 1/2 hours to a Barnes and Noble in Columbus to meet Ree Drummond.  I would have driven 4.  She is coolness.  She is funny.  She is an amazing photographer, writer and cook. Now, if you drive that far somewhere.... it turns out you also have to drive that far back.  But this is not concerning me as I am cruising along through Nowheresville, Ohio.... I kid you not, dancing and singing at the top of my lungs to "Pump a Jam." 

During said journey into the bowels of Ohio (BTW-I've lived here 11 years now and I can count on three fingers the times I have felt the need to go to Columbus.  One was simply to fly out of Ohio to Hawaii, I will not be returning any time soon) I am thinking back to all of the times I have planned what I would say and how I would act if per chance I ran into some kind of celebrity.  I always knew I would play it so cool that the hypothetical celeb would want to instantly befriend such  a cool, aloof, un-crazy person.  I know what I'm going to say, how I'm going to stand and act.  Epitome of calm.

As I stand in line for 4 hours, Barnes and Noble seems to heat up like Hades.  I picked out a really cute sweater and black pants and my cute heels.  And for some inexplicable reason, this sweater that I have worn a hundred times without incident has decided to slough off turquoise fuzz onto my pants as I wait.  It will not wipe off.  This is unfortunate incident number 1.  Number 2-choosing to wear cute heels.  By the end of 4 hours my poor tootsies were killing me, resulting in a very odd walk that I now have to perform.... as I approach The Pioneer Woman.

Ok, so here I am.  Covered in fuzz, weirdly perspiring from my hands.  The hands that are holding the book that only seconds from now I have to hand to Ree, covered in my hand sweat, to sign.  She can't know that sweat buckets from my hands! Now I can obviously not shake her hand in the aloof, cool manner in which I had planned.  Ok, so in my haste to get out the door this morning, I left my camera on the counter.  All I have is my cell phone camera.  As I'm waiting for the last person ahead of me to go, I am also dealing with the fact that my heart is now beating wildly and I think I'm about to have a heart attack.  Calm and Collected Plan?  Out the window.  I hand my phone to the B&N worker, mumble something about pushing the button and in my head here is what is racing in my mind-
"If that girl doesn't take the picture fast enough my phone is going to go back into phone mode and then I'm going to have to hobble over there in these stupid heels to switch it back and that is going to be ultra embarrassing added to my already sweaty book." 

And since I'm now in a panic about the phone camera, do I bother to politely ask for a picture with her???  No.  I come around behind the table squat down and and smile at the worker, hoping with everything in me that it worked. Luckily it did.

It gets worse.

While this picture craziness is going on, words, many words are rapidly avalanching out of control, out of my mouth. This is me: HimynameisMariandI'mahugefanYouaresofunnyYougoodcookMyfamilylovesyourrecipesImadeyouthiscard
That'smyhusbandAlexhereallylikestheMMsandwichIalmsottriedaVeganrecipeweekanddecidedtoandmakeyour
recipesinstead.  This is all spewing out of me in about a nanosecond.  Added to the fact that I'm now having palpitations as she is turning to look at me and can't get a word in edgewise because I can't get the words to stop coming out of me to save my life. 

As she hands me my book back, I take it and run for the door.  As I depart she says to my back, "Well thanks for waiting so long to see me!"  And what do I, in my brilliance utter???  "You too!" 

I "You too-ed" her.  Like she had been waiting hours to see me.  I was a walking disaster.  No, running.  Because what you have to understand about this whole humiliating exchange is, it all happened in a matter of about 3 seconds.  No more.  I ran away.  Out the door.  As she was talking to me. 

I was not chill.  I did not say any of the clever anecdotes about reading her blog, or seeing her on Throwdown with Bobby Flay, or cooking her recipes..... nope.  I.Was. A. Doofis.

But I got my book signed by THE Pioneer Woman.  And that is pretty sweet.

I'm going to have to seriously re-think my game plan if I ever do run into George Clooney.