Flower Girl

Last weekend I flew home to Michigan to be in a wedding.  My best friend from kindergarten got married.  Who could have guessed that when I was five years old and I asked if she needed help cutting the orange top off her Elmer's glue, a beautiful friendship would fluorish?  Cool!

Anyway, it was absolutely wonderful to be back in Michigan.  The trees were all fall colors (something I haven't seen in two years), and the air was cool and crisp ("but not 'fried chicken' cripsy," as Cara would tell you).  My mom and sister came to Ann Arbor, and we had a blast having a girls' weekend.  We got a fun hotel, did a lot of shopping (where I was TOTALLY spoiled by my mom!), and split a jar of pickles and a box of zebra cakes at midnight on Saturday.  These are the little things in life that you never forget.  I will also never forget watching my 17 year-old sister teaching my mom how to "Wobble."  I have it on video, but my mom made me promise noto to put it online.  Come to think of it, maybe that's why she spoiled me so much...  ha ha!  What can I say?  Bribes work.  I'm not showing you the video.

With that said, the true purpose of this post is to tell you about my new best friend.  She's five years old, and her name is Kylan.  She was the flower girl in Betsy's wedding, and I guess she decided that she liked me because she glued herself to my side for the entire time.  I was trying to spend time with my mom and sister, but she kept saying, "Christine! Come here!  I gotta show you something!" and then she would pull on my dress until I went with her to go see whatever thing is was that she "had" to show me.  It was usually something really awkward like, "Look!  That guy's name is RICK!"  At which point Rick would look at me quizically, and I would apologize and drag Kylan away.

The climax of the awkwardness with Kylan came at the reception.  Her mom was who-knows-where, and her dad was about to pray to bless the food.  Kylan chose that moment to pull on my dress and whisper, "Christine...I have to go potty!"  I leaned down and whispered, "We're about to pray, can you wait?"  She agreed.  About two words into the prayer, though, I felt a small tug on my dress again.  I looked down at her, and Kylan's white dress was all poofed out because she was trying to grab at her underwear.  She looked at me desparately and said, "I can't hold it...."  I looked around frantically for a bathroom, but I couldn't find one.  I couldn't ask anyone because I didn't want to interrupt the prayer.  I grabbed Kylan and raced upstairs to the deli that was located above the reception hall.  I went to the first worker I saw and said, "I've got a five year old here who really has to go." (Kylan was bouncing and making whiny noises in the background).  The deli person was confused.  "Isn't there a bathroom downstairs?"  "Yes, probably..." I replied, "but they're praying and I don't know where it is!"  "Oh my!" declared the worker, realizing that she was probably about to have pee all over her floor.  She hurried us to the deli bathroom.

I tried to stand outside while Kylan went, but she pulled me inside.  "Christine, I need your help!!"  Oh, great.  So I ran inside and was about to help Kylan lift up her dress, but she insisted that I had to take the entire thing off.  Ummm...okay.  So I found myself standing in a bathroom stall with a butt-naked five year old that I had only met a few hours earlier.  That didn't seem sketchy or awkward...  Kylan finished doing her business and asked me to help get her dress back on.  I said okay.  As I bent down to zip up her dress, Kylan giggled and said, "Oops, I just farted on you.  Sorry!"  Good heavens.  I am SO never having kids.

I took Kylan back downstairs and explained to her mother why her daughter had mysteriously disappeared.  The mom seemed unfazed, responding with "No problem.  I figured she was with you somewhere."  I bet the mom was just happy that it wasn't her day to get farted on.  :-/

Now I am safely back in Vegas, 2,000 miles away from the adorable and exasperating Kylan.  Phew!

Big Day!

Well, friends, today is a big day for me:  the book I've been writing for the past year finally made it to the print stage!  I got my copy in the mail to look over, and then once I approve it the book will be printed and distributed nationwide!  Whooooooo hooooo!  *happy dance*

You might say to yourself, "Why is Christine writing a blog when she should be out celebrating?  She should be eating at a fancy restaurant and letting the champagne flow!  Months of work are paying off!"

Yeah, well...no one is here to celebrate with me.  I don't want to go out to dinner by myself.  Plus, even if I did want to, I don't have a car.  I'll just have to celebrate on my official release date, when the book hits bookstores.

For today, though, I'm finding my own ways to celebrate.  For example: I showed Elvis the book.  I don't think he really realized what a huge deal this is for me, even though I told him.  Once I held a treat up by the book, he began to show more appropriate levels of excitement.  Good boy.  We danced around the kitchen together.

I am seriously considering taking my book down to the front office and showing it to the people who work at the front desk.  They seem nice enough.  I bet they would be excited for me.  Maybe I could even get a discount on next month's rent if I promise to put something complimentary about these apartments in my next novel.  Hmmmm...  I'm going to be a best-selling author someday.  They should get in good with me while they can.  Maybe when I'm really famous, my apartment will be a museum exhibit or something.  Kind of like how people travel from all over to see the cafe where JK Rowling wrote the Harry Potter books (I bet that cafe owner is PUMPED about that, ha ha.)

I know, I know.  I didn't write Harry Potter.  I wrote 149 pages of juvenile fiction about my cat.  Still, it's a start, right??  Hmmmmm??  BE HAPPY FOR ME!

Aw, screw it.  I don't care who is happy for me.  I'M HAPPY FOR ME!!!  WHOOOO HOOOOO!!! GO ME!!!

Today is a good day.