I'm a Spaz

Thank you to all of you who have left such kind and wonderful comments. I promise a Survivor update in the next day or so.

About ten years ago, when I lived in the city of Chicago, Princess Diana came to visit. It was a VERY big deal for Chicago. I watched on the news that night, about how she was talking to the crowds and shaking many people's hands as she passed by. Oh! I loved her so much! She was staying at the Drake Hotel, and since I lived a nice brisk walk's distance from the Drake, I decided that the next day I would walk down and try to catch a glimpse. It was a beautiful day, and I got there early. Really early, I was right in front, directly across the street. The crowd deepened as I waited, but I had a prime spot. So prime, that, were she to cross the street to the crowd, as it was likely that she would, I might even get to shake her hand.

I had run through it all in my mind, what I would say. I would curtsey (just slightly, not too pronounced, but just a tiny little bob that would be respectful) and say politely "Princess Diana, you are so welcome here in America". I would be an ambassador for our country, darn it, that's what I would be.

So, after ages of waiting, she came out of the hotel, she was late, she was stunning in a pale blue suit, she came out on the street side of her car (so we could see her better) and waved to us, then got in the car and in a flash she was gone.

And in slow motion, I realized to my horror what I was doing: jumping up and down, waving like a maniac and shouting at the top of my lungs with slobber flying wildly "Diana! Diana! We Love You Diana!"

I was keeping this in mind as I drove up to meet my friend Mel today, that I really was going to be reserved and respectful today, no gushing, as I met Ms. Pearl-McPhee.

Herein begins the photo log of me and Mrs. Mel driving into Chicago to hear the Yarn Harlot:

Here we are, driving by the knitting store, Arcadia Knitting, (that is Arcadia in the background). Are we are two geeked-up knitting bloggers, or what!!


I am wearing my newly-sleeve-lengthened bolero, which I now love, (and you will see that in a minute) and am laden with knitting. I have brought my finished Sam to show Mel, and two socks to knit on, and a shawl (in case I run out of knitting from the socks.)


Here I am in the shop, waiting (and knitting). Apparently Stephanie was late, but I don't think any of us noticed because we were yarn shopping and knitting. Can you see the shop is arranged by color? I have heard of that, but never experienced it. It is fabulous. Even the golds and browns look good when the shop is arranged by color.


Another great thing about waiting was meeting really nice knitters. Big shout out to fellow bloggers Franklin and Melissa!


Now Stephanie arrives and takes photos so she can blog us. Here I am blogging her blogging us.


Now she talks, and we laugh. Really, I knew in my head that was how it would be, but it really was like that. I still don't get how talking about knitting could be so funny and real, but it totally is. And I couldn't explain it to my husband when I got home, which is why I'm blabbing it here, because I know you all get it.


Then we get our books signed. Here is Melody (sorry about the goofy look on your face, Mel.)


Now it's me! Am I excited or what?! The Harlot looks businesslike, I look like a ten year old. Yes! I'm geeked! (But I'm going to be polite, reserved, say something short and gracious and then shut my mouth so I don't say anything stupid).


Look! She is so kind to stand up and get a picture with me!


And in case you think I was holding up the line for a million years, yes, I probably was. Here we are again, and I cleverly remember to subtly point to my knitting! Whoohoo!

Anyway, after the picture taking session, she sat down and opened up my book. The first thing she said to me was "Are you blogging this?" Brilliant! How did she guess?! As I am writing this right now, I realize it is probably because we just took ten million pictures! And she asked what was the name of my blog, and she said, she'd read me, because I left her a comment.

At this point, if I were the signer, and there were 85 people in line and this crazy chick was number 14, I'd be like, for cryin out loud, move it along, People! But she is not like that at all, she talks to you like you are the only person there and she is really interested. And then you feel like you've known her since second grade. I realize saying this will make me sound like a crazy stalker. And I'm not. Even if I gave her a tiny present. I'm not.

So she was talking and signing, and that's when I made a split decision. To give her the present. Just a dopey little box of notecards of one of my quilts, that I put in my bag this morning, not sure if I would give them to her or not. I didn't want to be a spaz. It wouldn't be a very reserved thing to do. I didn't want to gush. I just wanted to be an ambassador for our country, and make her feel welcome. The end.

So, in summary, if you ever get a chance to go, (and word is she will be coming back to the Midwest on the second book tour) you must. As if we didn't all feel the knitting love already, you will feel it ever so much more after sitting and laughing for an hour with other crazy knitters and the Harlot.

And by the way, her shawl completely rocked.