I have thought about David Sedaris approximately 72,300 seconds today. Or I will have, by the time the day is done. The remaining four hours of the day was divided between work, compiling my grocery list, dressing myself and having an inner monologue about how I have discovered and must now ban Black Riesling, which is the equivalent of liquid acid and roofies.
Four of those minutes today were spent thinking of a way to excite DS about our upcoming encounter next Monday. Because obviously I need him to already know who I am before I get to the table for my book signing portion. That will save me some time explaining who I am and why I love him and get right down to business, which now includes offering to take next week off to personally drive him to every one of his shows in the area, most being at least 6 hours from the other.
This idea alone would petrify him, I’m sure, and potentially backfire if he decided my madness was not worth his time and just quit Germany in general. He would surely feel trapped in the car, I would be in HEAVEN and by the end of it all, I’m sure someone would commit someone and I’ve got money on myself being locked up. Jesus, as I wrote that, I was in the middle of an Annie Wilkes moment. Shit. Sorry about that.
But anyway. You can’t just send someone famous some bullshit on the internet and think they’re going to care. I read his fb page. It’s a bunch of people verbally sucking him off which is just unoriginal and BORING. He knows the damned world loves him. That’s why he’s FAMOUS. God. And so I figured my best shot would be to entice him and give him a reason to look forward to meeting me. I want him READY.
So I sent him this:
In preparation for your arrival in Munich next Monday, I have been shopping at German estate sales for the perfect gift. I can’t think of anything you’d need more than something from the home of a dead German.
Then I told my Mr. H that I had sent that and he informed me I sounded crazy which was slightly the point, except substitute crazy with brilliant and witty and ta da!, my case.in.point. Then he asked me how I would feel if DS hired bodyguards and refused to do a signing because of my comment and I ruined it for myself and everyone else which is just fucking stupid. To highlight said stupidity, I counter with,
“He’s not going to do that. He gets my sense of humor, obviously.” And by “gets” I started thinking in my head other things he’d “get” about me but then I was so rudely interrupted by my Mr. H.
This is the part of today where he felt it was appropriate to cut and paste exactly what I had just written him and write, “You do sound crazy.” Repeating my own thoughts back to me has never made the original idea more or less crazy.
And then I warned him that it’s 7 days until I see DS and it’s going to seem like a very long time if we keep up these little conversations between now until then.
Now. I have to go back to planning my big moment with DS. Plan on hearing more of these stories leading up to next Monday.
**I know without pictures this post looks boring but the only things I could think of to google to add were things like stalker, kathy bates, wine, crazy, etc and none seemed quite right. oh well.