Euka II meets The Bloggess
“Look! I’m standing in front of a fire. And I didn’t start it this time!” –The Bloggess (with a cozy fireplace at her back.)
As I scan the attendees of this standing-room-only book signing event, I take in that we’re a bit of an eccentric group. I was going to say eclectic, but I don’t think that e-tic word is as good a fit. This isn’t my first book signing event, of course. I’m a bibliophile, people. I spend a lot of time with books so I can be all smart and stuff. And also being a people watcher (not a stalkerphile) it’s interesting to me what brings a culture of folk together.
|So nice I can see her twice. Because I’d rather
see this chick’s iPad than the speaker.
Off to our right Euka is taking in the sight of a rather outgoing lady with a kicky purple and red spiked do (checking that one off the Euka’s Seen That list). We meet two friends sitting together who were generous to offer me a section of their bench so I wouldn’t have to stand. They talk on an on about their websites and stats. About ten o’clock to my left there’s a woman holding a . . . wait, what is that? Huh. She’s clutching a stuffed unicorn head in her lap. And there’s that one hapless fellow in this otherwise progesterone laden audience. And yeah, me. The chick with the dog.
|Jenny Lawson reads the PG version of Stanley, the Magical
If I would have remembered to bring the Kindle, both questions could be easily tackled with a quickie search. But I left the thing plugged in on the kitchen counter. No matter, I have plenty of time to roll through some of the chapters in the paperback I brought.
And yep here’s a chapter with dogs in the title: You can’t go home again (unless you want to get mauled by wild dogs). Well, that doesn’t sound good. No spoilers here, but I will tell you it involves photos of stitches. Ugh, so now I’m feeling unsettled, which is always a bad thing. Because that’s when the paranoia starts.
How will she react to the pup when I walk up? Will we be rushed through the line? And what is that cop standing there for? We need a cop at a book store? Is this some kind of a high risk book signing? Dang it, what is my favorite story in the book?
Settle down, you weirdo, I tell myself. Grow a pair, girl, and act like you know what you’re doing. A deep breath to chill myself out and holy cow . . . here she comes!
The Bloggess puts us all at ease with her open, friendly personality. So approachable and so very clever and funny. But, she tells us, she’s been asked to not say any bad words during her book reading. Not an easy task, we fans of The Bloggess know all too well. We’re not-so-strategically positioned right next to the children’s section of the book store, so this censorship request is indeed easy to support. Yet, still a bit disappointing to think of her colorful words diluted to a watery gray version.
But Jenny Lawson is funny and clever, right? She’s got this. For every R-rated word, she says, she’ll replace with the word hippopotamus. So she went off the usual plan and chose the chapter of Stanley, the Magical Talking Squirrel because it has the fewest f-bombs. The title suggests it could be a children’s tale, doesn’t it? It’s not.
“Holy hippopotamus, you psychopath!” is what I would have said if I hadn’t been eight years old. -excerpt from Let’s Pretend This Never Happened.
I think it works. Even the cop cracked a smile.
So clutching my #58 line ticket, I await my turn to meet The Bloggess. The line is moving slowly because Jenny is allowing photo ops with all who ask. I take this as a good sign. As we reach the table I ask her publisher escort (who is not a prostitute, Jenny Lawson told us right up front) if she thinks Jenny would be agreeable to a photo with the dog. The woman looks at me like I just pulled a second head from my pocket and says something rather curt to me. She must be good with dogs, I think, because the chick sure is lacking in people skills. I shrug it off and decide to take my chances.
We made it, it’s finally our turn with The Bloggess. An hour’s drive and nearly another two hours waiting for this moment. Euka, our little confident pup, has been a rock the whole time – solid and steady. We spent much of the time waiting by working on calm greetings and reinforcing her Sit/Stays and Down/Stays. Good grief, I couldn’t be prouder of this six month old puppy that is Euka II.
|nom-nom-nom, says Euka II.|
Thank you, I say as The Bloggess hands my autographed book back to me. Then, could I take a photo of you with the puppy?
Of course! she says. While Jenny Lawson beams a smile, I ask Euka to Sit. And . . . it’s this moment in time that our clever pup loses her ability to understand English. Que pasa, senorá?asks Euka. Pardoné, femme de nourriture?
Sit, I say again. Like I mean it. Euka looks at me, looks around. Sniffs the floor. And continues to stand there. Even the cop is laughing now. Now, Euka? I lament. This is our moment, babe. You do this now?
Fine. I dig out a dog cookie. Oh, Sit! says Euka. You slurred or something. I had no idea.
I don’t want to hold up the line any more for the folk behind us. I snap a quick photo and check the digital image. Jenny looks great. Euka looks like she’s chewing a dog cookie with her mouth open.
Aargh, hippopotamus. Let’s get just one more, I say. What a good sport, that Jenny Lawson.
I thank her again, saying it like I mean it, and step aside for her next avid fan. Hi! how are you?, the fan asks Jenny.
I’m doing great, says The Bloggess. Now that I got to pet a dog.
I love her.
|Euka II on an earlier visit to Books & Co. posing
in front of a book written by my favorite
local author, Katrina Kittle.