Jennifer Brown

I finally had that moment today. The one where I was... eep... recognized. Well, kinda.

I was at the library, picking up a few holds, and I had to go to the desk for checkout because some of the holds were for Goddess and I didn't have her card with me. And as the girl is checking out the books, she goes, "Oh, hey, I was putting your holds on the shelf today and saw your name... did you know there's a Jennifer Brown in Kansas City who wrote this book called HATE LIST?"

Inside my head: (panic mode) Oh, God, what do I do? Leave. Just be your usual awkward self and turn and GO HOME IMMEDIATELY without acknowledging that she ever said a word. Lock yourself in the basement and stare at the wall for an hour. It'll be okay.

But my mouth -- well, actually my hand -- betrayed me. Without even thinking about it (because all I could think about was that it was suddenly 90 million degrees in that place), my hand left my side and waved in the air next to my head.

"That's me," I whispered. (Actually, I think I went, "Mrrmrm peep mrrrm," but she got the gist of what I was saying)

Her eyes got all big and then I was In THAT Conversation -- you know, the one where I want to go, "DidyoureaditdidyouloveitamIamazingorwhat?" but have to wait until she volunteers the information. She did, and Ioffered to sign it for her, should I ever be in there at a time when she is and she has the book. Which means I can never be in my library anonymously again (*sob!*).

But I'll admit... the whole thing was kinda cool.