The day I met Dooce, for real this time.

As you may remember, Heather Armstrong, creator of put Denver on her book tour, and I couldn’t wait to meet her.

For real this time.

Let me explain…

I feel like I met Heather around this time back in 2005. I was pregnant with Claire and suffering from horrible morning sickness. In fact, “horrible morning sickness” doesn’t even come close to describing my experience. It got so unbearable that I remember collapsing in my computer chair and opening up a new Internet window. In the Google Search field, I typed something to the effect of “if I don’t stop throwing up from this morning sickness I think I’ll die please help” and I hit Enter.

It wasn’t really a search. It was a desperate plea to the Internet Gods and the Universe to make this miracle of life more bearable. Get me through the next five minutes without barfing. Please.

Through blurry eyes, I looked at the search results, and the top one was a blog post by Heather Armstrong at I clicked through to the website and read a post about Norah Jones. In that moment, I forgot how sick I was. I laughed so hard I cried. And, then I read everything she ever wrote.

I was hooked.

From that point on, I visited every day. I still felt sick, but I had something to look forward to. Heather and her stories became a close friend I visited every day over the years.

Fast forward to the near past, and the moment I saw she was going to be in Denver to promote her book, It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita, I flipped my calendar to April and put it on my schedule. In pen. Highlighted.

I told my husband that he needed to be home early that day so that I could go to this book signing and meet my hero Heather.

I’d heard horror stories of the book signing lines, so when I found some other bloggers that wanted to join me, we opted to go really early to wait in line.

Yes, we were in line to get in line, and we loved every minute of it. There was one other person in line in front of me.  (She claims that she’d just gotten there right before us, but whatever.)  😉

2nd in line isn't bad

2nd in line & front row seats!

But, I’m okay with that. I’d rather sit and wait leisurely chatting with real live bloggers (and blog readers) than wait at the end of the line hoping to get a seat.

I got nothin’ but time when meeting Dooce is involved.

After Heather spoke, did a couple readings and then held a Q & A session, they called numbers 1 thru 20 to the front to get their books signed. By pure coincidence, I was first in line. I swear I didn’t knock anyone down. I even offered the position to Number 1, but she declined, and the lady in charge of organizing us said it was okay.

In my head, I’ve known Heather for four years, and I finally got to meet her in person last night.

For real this time.

Here I am not attacking Dooce with my claws.

Here I am NOT attacking Dooce with my claws.

My friend Lori was kind enough to take these photos, and I love that the first one looks like I’m going to attack Heather with my claws. What I’m doing, in fact, is telling her the story of how I met her. Everyone knows the international symbol for typing. Duh.

I still cannot believe I got to meet Heather Armstrong in person.

I still cannot believe I got to meet Heather Armstrong in person.

In person, Heather is so gracious and down to earth.  Our encounter didn’t seemed rushed at all.  It was easier talking to her than I thought it might be. I was pretty proud of myself for not choking up. She signed my book, and then Jon signed it! (He was actually touring with her on this leg of the trip!)

So, Heather, if you ever happen to read this, thank you so much for putting Denver on your list of stops in your book tour. You’ve been an inspiration for me for years, and it’s nice to finally meet you.

For real this time.

And! To the people in line with me last night! If I met you in real life, and you’ve stopped by this blog, welcome! Please comment or email me. It’s really cool to put faces with twitter IDs and blog URLs, isn’t it?

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