I met one of my heroes/role model/obsession last night.  I waited for 5 hours to meet Pioneer Woman.  5 Hours!  The last time I did that was…Oh wait.  I don’t do that.  I get bored.  I lose interest.  I talk myself out of it.  But not this time.  This time, I waited. And waited.

The Book Signing started at 6.  I thought instead of being overzealous, I would arrive closer to 5 so that I wasn’t the only crazy one that showed up early.  I underestimate fans.  I always assume I’m the only one, apparently, I’m not.  Lots of people were there.  Many of those people had secured their place earlier that morning.  I had no clue.  But I was there.  I had a migraine. I was tired.  Hyped up on Excedrin for migraine, but I was there.

Two kind strangers offered me a slightly better spot in line just because we struck up a conversation in the coffee line.  So kind.  I also  met two lovely girls in line.  I probably confessed a little too much about my obsession, but again, found that I was not alone.  I also told them a little too much about me as is my tendency.  I talk.  A Lot.  One of the girls graciously offered to take my picture with Pioneer Woman and e-mail it to me.  So very nice.

When it was finally my turn, wittiness escaped me.  PW commented on my lovely outfit.  Brilliant words fell from my mouth, “You know, work.”  We chatted a little about fashion and in a moment of silence, I again spoke brilliance.  “Thanks for coming.”  Really?

Confession:  I wasn’t sure what to say.  I didn’t want to look like an obsessed idiot.  I wanted her to like me, to want to be my friend.  I know it’s crazy.  That’s what happens with your heroes.  You are awed by them.  You want them to like you as much as you like them.  It’s no different than how I feel toward my family or dear friends.  I can only hope that they love you as much as you love them.

Pioneer Woman has no super powers.  She seems pretty normal like anyone else that writes a blog, cooks, lives on a ranch, has kids.  And I guess it could be anyone in the world, but I just happened to start reading her blog one day, and now, she’s my hero.

Running the Risk of Being Too Honest and Possibly Warranting Humiliation Confession:  I also froze and didn’t know what to say because I was afraid I would cry.  I know.  I’ve lost all respect in your eyes.  It’s this crazy thing I call working through your feelings.  When you’ve been holding back feelings for many many years, when you start dealing with them, it’s like the flood gates open.  The dam bursts.  It makes you want to cry sometimes.  Just because the mood strikes.  It’s awful and good all at the same time.  As I waited for 5 hours in line, I kept thinking of all the things I would say.  “You’re amazing.  You are such an inspiration to me.  You make me want to love my husband and child better.  You make me want to be more generous.  I’m learning more about myself and learning to be happy.  Thank you for sharing your life. ”  And every time I had those thoughts, tears would well up in my eyes.  Oh Lord.  I cannot cry in front of Pioneer Woman.  So I said none of these things.  I said, “thanks for coming.”