Saturday, 1 August 2009

not a good celebrity

Public speaking is tricky for me.

The woman at the library looked sort of familiar, peering around the corner of the bookshelves at me, her bright little eyes locking on mine every once in awhile as we crossed paths.

I've never claimed to be good on names. Faces I can usually remember, but names - well, the adjective that springs to mind is shameful. (This is actually why Cass thinks I know everyone - because I wave to everyone we pass in the car. Most times I have no clue who they are. But I'm a friendly ignoramus.)

We finally met face-to-face in the back aisle, near the mystery paperbacks - me paging through 'Lassie Come Home' (not sure Cass would read it, altho' he loves dogs) she with an armload of hardbacks.

'I loved Meg too.'

Hmm? 'Um, absolutely.' I peeked over her head for the librarian, hoping she would magically appear and introduce me to this person. No such luck.

She beamed. 'She was my favorite character in the series. Did you read them all?'

I passed Lassie from hand to hand, my mind blipping from one face to another in my memory. Was she from the hospital? The pre-school? One of Bear's coworkers? And what was she talking about?

I hesitated. 'All?'

'Madeleine L'Engle was great, wasn't she? She wrote so many books!'

I must have still looked pole-axed. Kindly, she touched my arm. Speaking slowly, she said 'I read your blog. About Meg. It was great.'

People don't bounce up to me to talk about a few lines I jotted down a week ago. It just doesn't happen. It was amazing and terrifying all at once. I could feel my cheeks heat up while my palms grew damp, leaving great splotches on Lassie's face, wrinkling the cover. Plus I tend to talk like ee cummings when I get excited, all hand-wavy and with the emphases in the wrong places. And I like to talk about books.
A lot.

i like Meg
she is so good and kind. And uses her brains (a great role-model for girls)
and never gives up. She dreams
great purple dreams, and can accept six crazy things
before breakfast.

i think she's amazing.

and she gets the dishy guy at the end. (That counts, too.)

She stepped back, (probably to get out of the way of my flailing hands) her grin still steady but possibly dimming a bit.

Well, anyway. Never one to shut up while the getting was good, I delved into my praise of the secondary characters and threw in the black dog for good measure. By the time I was finished, she had a decidedly hunted look and was casting glances at the circulation desk, where the librarian (who knows my lunatic tendency to foam on and on) was openly laughing.

Ever have one of those moments where the conversation is going really well and then suddenly you can only hear yourself talking about things people couldn't possibly care about and you can't shut up?


I blurted something thanking her and scampered off to go hide my red face in the non-fiction section.

If I ever write a book? I am so screwed.


motherbumper said...

"Ever have one of those moments"? - all the freakin' time.

Badger said...

Um, yeah. That is my life EVERY DAY if other people are around. This is why I'm such a recluse. It's for the common good. ;)

Major Bedhead said...

Constantly. Usually to the complete and utter confusion of the person I'm assaulting with my verbal vomit-fest.

Anonymous said...

I hate when I get like that. It's kind of painful.

Loth said...

See that's what I wanted to do when I was in NS, come up and blether to you about stuff. And I managed to miss you. Sigh.

Chantal said...

We had a blogging gathering in Ottawa a few weeks ago and I did the exact same thing. I ran into a blogger whom I had never heard of, who reads my blog (she had never commented so I can't entirely be blamed) and I started babbling like an idiot and OMG it was bad. I was very embarrassed.

Stomper Girl said...

Me too! Especially at parties when I meet someone reserved and then I overcompensate and start telling them EVERYTHING. Later I feel resentful that they didn't help me out, even though the poor thing probably COULDN'T GET A WORD IN EDGEWISE.

Ree said...

Yes! It's why we write, I think.

Mike said...

You may have to write it with a fake name....

witchypoo said...

I have never met anyone who reads my blog that I didn't give the blog address to.
I'm fine with those! Have no clue how I would act with someone who I don't already know. Probably like you.

Isabelle said...

Goodness. I pictured you as ultra-confident and cool.

I had lunch with Loth today. Not boasting. Just saying. We found each other quite easily. We had cheese and tomato paninis and she told me about Nova Scotia. We missed you though.