My nine year old son is good at making fast-friends, especially with adult women who tend to think he’s younger than he is. His personality combined with the stature of a five year old give off an aura of charm and vulnerability that men three times his age wish they could evoke.

He’s slick, I tell you. I took him to Urgent Care on Saturday and in under 30 minutes he had been given three different frozen treats by three different nurses and then he got one for the road. He worked the rooms so well they were practically throwing Flavor-Ice at him

So, I have to admit that his behavior was shocking when Ree Drummond, also known as The Pioneer Woman, came to town last week. If you don’t know Ree, she is a NY Times best-selling author, host of her own Food Network show, amazing photographer, home-schooler and blogger. She’s also smart, funny, pretty, generous and kind. I hate her a little bit.

Oh, okay…that’s not true. I hate her a lot. Oh, okay…that’s not true either. I love her! And. So. Does. My. Kid.

Although I assured my son that she is a friend of mine and a regular person through-and-through, when I told him she was in town for a book signing and he was going to get a chance to meet her, he got a little star-struck.

Honestly, I should have known. He loves Ree’s Food Network show so much that he actually talks to her as if she is in the corner of our living room. He smiles at the screen, he giggles, he swoons. On the day of their meeting, he came out of school yelling about going to see her and said that he was going to run from the car and give her a hug. When we arrived at the book store, he hurried to the back room where she was waiting…

And, then he hid behind my leg.

He slowly crept out, but wouldn’t dare look at her. I don’t know if he was smitten or scared, because the only other time I’ve seen him look like this was on a first grade field trip to the zoo when his teacher told him not to make eye contact with the gorillas.

But, Ree knew how to bring out the flirt in him. “Aw shucks, Ree!”

When he finally decided that he was ready for a hug, he prepared for it by creating a decent distance between the two of them, then running and jumping into her arms. That’s my boy. Dramatic much?

I bet if she had Flavor-Ice, she would have been tossing it in his direction.

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It is 9:50pm on November 1st, which technically means that there is still enough time for me to tell you that I am planning to participate in Nablopomo.

What is Nablopomo? Well, as French as it sounds, it’s really just short for National Blog Posting Month. It is a challenge for bloggers to post every day for the month of November.

Why would I do this to myself when I can’t even get the laundry done? Because clean clothes are overrated and I think I need a swift kick in the old-age-blogger-pants. This will force me to come back to this place I love.

See, I have been blogging since June, 2007. That’s an eternity on the internet. Shoot, that’s an eternity, period. Four years ago, my daughter was eight. EIGHT! Sigh…

So if you want to stop by, I will be here. I am not promising stellar content, as evidenced by this post. Sometimes, it might just be a picture. Sometimes, it might just be a sentence. And, there may be a short time when I am out of town, which means I’ll have to use my fancy scheduler thingy. Which, in fact, means you may see nothing at all.

Wish me luck. Also, next time we run into each other, please smack some sense into me. Thanks.

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I just got back from a trip to Manhattan where I attended a writing conference for work. There were oodles of editors from Penguin and I even had the opportunity to spend 90 minutes in a mentoring session with a literary agent. Not everyone gets a chance like this and I spent the the days preceding the conference in diligent preparation.

I wrote a query letter and printed out sample chapters of my novel. I made sure that my business cards were packed, my clothes were professional, but not stodgy, and I practiced my elevator pitch until the moment I arrived at the opening reception. Which is also when I realized that I had packed the wrong Spanx.

If there is one thing that you don’t want publishing greats to know about you, it’s that you have visible panty lines and a bloated belly filled with a nerve-calming Corona and lunch; consisting of salt and vinegar chips from the hotel bar.

But, my array of good impressions didn’t stop there. In my middle-age, I have developed lovely dots of mustache sweat when I get nervous. If you see me wiping my upper lip for the first five minutes of our conversation, this is why.

Ah, but those things? They were nothing compared to my dinner with the former editor-in-chief of Redbook Magazine, Stacy Morrison (now a co-worker at BlogHer), and a couple of power–bloggers from NYC. I looked for pictures of Stacy online, but I couldn’t decide between the one of her with Cindy Crawford or the one with Harry Connick Jr.

That’s right, I was like the Ohio Tweedledum at a Times Square sushi restaurant with three, sophisticated New Yorkers.

Do you know that they don’t even give you forks at authentic, NYC sushi restaurants? I had to be taught how to use chopsticks by Stacy. So, understandably, when I got a nice big chunk of avocado between my sticks I was quite proud of my accomplishment. I quickly took the bite and puffed up my chest.

Only, I couldn’t puff up my chest. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t breathe at all. Because I hadn’t eaten a big bite of avocado, I had eaten a big bite of wasabi.

After the taste hit my tongue and my eyes started to water, I felt my nose hairs spontaneously combust. If you inhaled fire through your nostrils, the sensation would be a lot like eating a half-dollar-sized chunk of wasabi. I could actually feel the fumes entering my sinuses and if I hadn’t been sitting on the inside of the booth I would have made a run for the nearest tub of ice and buried my head. The good news is that the cold I was getting was obliterated within seconds.

My face turned red and I couldn’t talk. I thought, for a moment, that the description of “Spicy Titanic Roll” on the menu had been, grossly, under-exaggerated. New York menu designers are crazy, yo! It turned out, however, that “spicy” and “condiment” mean exactly the same things in New York as they do in Ohio.

And, you know what? So does moron.

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A few weeks ago, I came face to face with a woman who I thought would hate me. Her name is Katherine.

We were both nominated for what I can only describe as the blogging equivalent of the Oscars. I won’t get in to how much of an honor it is to be chosen for Voices of the Year, because if you’re not a blogger then you won’t understand. My mom is scratching her head right now. I don’t have to go into details, because that isn’t what matters. Just know it’s a big deal.

So, Katherine and I were both nominated and we tied for People’s Choice. I don’t know how the decision was made that I would end up reading my winning post in front of a huge audience, while she was simply mentioned as a finalist, but that’s what happened.

Photo from www.walkingwithscissors.com

I felt a lot of guilt over that tie.

I was worried that Katherine would think there was favoritism involved or that I didn’t deserve to be on the stage. Clearly, her post resonated with the community as well and I’m sure she wondered why she didn’t get to share it.

But, when I saw Katherine, I was greeted with a warm hug and a “Congratulations!”. It wasn’t disingenuous, it wasn’t contrived and at the reception following my reading she grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little when she said, “There is no doubt that your post was meant to be read. You did great!”

She is a class act. She handled the entire situation with grace and didn’t judge me or cry favoritism. She was accepting, understanding and I will forever call her my friend.

I can’t say that I would have been as kind as Katherine. I would like to hope so. I think I would be gracious, but I really don’t know.

Maybe I would have been catty. Maybe I would have appraised the situation with virulence and talked behind Katherine’s back and said she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I would have said that my post was better than hers.

I am nothing if not flawed.

There is a huge lesson to be learned here; which is that bitterness and jealousy is good for no one. If the tables had been turned and I was in Katherine’s situation and hadn’t handled it the way she did, I would have missed out on a friendship with a strong woman, brilliant writer and really good person.

And, instead of tying for the win, I would have completely lost out.

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