On the 19th of March, my mom, sister and I piled into my mom’s car and drove. Her GPS “Maddy” took us the scenic route past farms, cows, horses and trains, without an interstate in sight. But we were in no hurry. We gave ourselves 5 hours to make a 2 hour drive.
We got to the bookstore in Dayton with plenty of time, so we parked the car and decided we’d go into the bookstore to look around, and find out event details.
Around this time, I realized my husband had given me a 50 with the idea that he didn’t like me wondering so far from home without any sort of cash. I sent him a quick note warning him he’d set me loose in a bookstore with cash. He made it clear he had been aware longer than I had, of the situation, and that I would indeed owe him.
There was one survivor. He goes by Washington.
Funny how all three of us bookworms didn’t really realize that the book signing in a book store would involve, you know, many, many books. I think we blocked that part out in our quest.
Our quest to meet The Bloggess.
After we spent ourselves broke, we wandered to a nearby subway for an early dinner and then a few other shops to poke around. But with only an hour and a half left before the signing started, we made our way back to the bookstore to find our place in line. With a heads-up from the vixen Dawnie, I knew we needed to be there well in advance. We were the second group in line, but it grew well before 6, when we could find seats. By the time The Bloggess was presented at 7, it was standing room only.
We had front row seats. Score!
The Dayton reading had the privilege to be the audience that was not allowed to witness a single curse word, as she read a chapter from her book. So Jenny, in advance, set about finding the chapter with the fewest F-bombs, and friends. The winning chapter had only 12 words that needed replaced with hippopotamus. You heard me, hippopotamus. But oh you should have heard her!
We laughed, we cried, we laughed some more.
Then we single file got to meet the Goddess that is the Bloggess and have her sign our books. Our coveted books of inappropriate hilarity. I was lucky enough to be able to have 2 copies signed. I bought the paperback version for myself (with a new bonus chapter, yo!) and had my older hardback version signed for my good friend Lisa who was spending the day back in Columbus growing older. No, seriously, it was her birthday. When I mentioned this to Jenny, she was sure to wish her a happy birthday in writing. Lisa is one lucky hippopotamus!
We are all very lucky hippopotamuses. Not just that this book has been written by someone so very real and honest and inappropriately hilarious.
But that this single person could make it clear to all of us who are so very isolated and alone, that we are in fact one of millions and not so different after all, is something we all needed. We aren’t the only one with chronic pain. We aren’t the only one with crippling anxiety. We aren’t the only one with depression so bad we can’t leave our bed for days if not weeks. We aren’t the only one who has cut to feel something. We aren’t the only one. You, I, Jenny. We are all so unique but in the ways we need to be the same, to not be alone, Jenny has made it clear we are a community. She has given us that gift.
So we are very lucky hippopotami indeed!