Grammar, Getting What You Want and Anita Diamant: A Story About Asking for Things and Being Mildly Insane

I’ve never really considered myself a person who gets “star struck”; to me, celebrities are just those stuck-up kids from my high school’s drama department, except now their arrogance is kind of justified by the fact that they have careers. Authors, however, are a different story.

“OMG … OMG ANITA DIAMANT IS COMING TO MY SCHOOL AH MY GAAAAAWD”

Yes … Anita Diamant, the author of my favorite novel (The Red Tent, a.k.a. “The Little Book That Could”) was coming to my school to speak about her newest work. Maybe she would even sign my copies of the book! This was going to be dreamy.

Then, my social anxiety kicked in and I started thinking about actually asking her for her autograph. What am I supposed to do, just waltz up to her and impose myself on her time? What if my school had a rule against asking authors to sign books? Oh, my God, I was going to be expelled from school. What would Anita Diamant think? She would probably never visit Brandeis again after that stupid girl (i.e., me) had the gall to ask her to sign not one, but two books. How dare I! This was terrible! So, I wrote an e-mail to the professor moderating the event regarding whether it would be alright to ask her for her signature. He said it was fine, and also that it would be “flattering.” I wasn’t convinced; an ex-boyfriend and I had had a class with this professor together several years ago, and the ex had been especially douche-baggish during this course—the professor probably remembered that I had associated with said ass and was trying to sabotage me, now, as revenge. I was on to him.

Regardless, on the night of the event I gathered up my multiple copies of The Red Tent for her to sign (maybe) and traveled over to the student center where the lecture was going to take place. On my way over there, however, my nerves twisted my simple hopes that she would sign my books into some kind of horrible, stalker-ish day dream:

Anita Diamant would be so impressed by my intellect, we would totally be best friends! She would love my life story so much (Apparently, at that point in time my mind was so demented that I thought my life story that was “impressive “) that she would base a character/novel on me. I bet we’ll going skiing together! I’ve never been skiing, before. This is going to be great!

So, I arrived, and I waited. Actually, “fretted” or “frothed in place” is probably a better word/phrase.

And then, she entered the room. Or, someone who I was pretty sure was her entered the room. I held up a book with her portrait and compared her face to the picture (thus already establishing myself as totally nuts), and became 90% sure that Anita Diamant had arrived.

Of course, rabid English-professors immediately descended on her, and probably some people who were her friends (“One day, one of those people will be, except I’ll arrive with her, and we’ll have had dinner right before and everyone will ask if we want any hors d’oeuvres and I’ll be all, “No, we just had dinner. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”) Slowly, a nervous inch at a time, I approached Anita Diamant and hovered, waiting to talk to her, like a creepy-ass vulture waiting to pick at a carcass or that mentally disabled hyena from “The Lion King.”

I almost bailed. “What are you doing! This isn’t a book signing event, she is socializing SIT DOWN.”

“NO! IT IS JUST A SIGNATURE ALSO HOW CAN SHE ASK ME TO GO SKIING WITH HER IF I DON’T INTRODUCE MYSELF.”

Apparently, in addition to an amazing life-story, I had something to prove.

I stood there, shadily looking over the shoulders of the people Anita Diamant was talking to. She spotted me and exclaimed, “You’re going to have me sign those right now, aren’t you!”

“I’M SORRY U R FAVORITE AUTHOR OF MY MOTHER AND MINE!”

Holy Christ, why are these words coming out of my mouth in a way that is horrible. My dreams of visiting Aspen with Anita Diamant were shattered as she looked at me as though I were the crazy person I actually am.

As she seated herself and took the pen I offered her, she asked which copy was my mine:

“THE FANCY HARDCOVER I AM GOING TO PUT IT ON A SHELF IN MY FUTURE LIBRARY.”

Obligingly, Anita Diamant signed this “fancy” copy and my mother’s edition, and I shuffled away after grinning at her like the aforementioned mildly retarded hyena. Then, I filled the time before the lecture began with shame.

However, in the aftermath of this humiliating ordeal, I realized I had learned several things from the incident that kind of balanced out having made an idiot of myself in front of Anita Diamant (except not really, I would never live this down):

1) I am horribly neurotic and should probably be institutionalized.

No, wait, I already knew that one. OK, I learned a couple of things from this:

1) If you want something, ask! It never hurts, and the worst that will happen is you’ll be told “No,” and if you hadn’t asked, you wouldn’t have gotten what you wanted, regardless.

2) Only talk to authors if you enjoy feeling stupid and would like fodder for FML.

P.S. – If people are interested in the content of the actual lecture, let me know and I will write a post about this as well.

Advertisements

1 Comment

  1. July 6, 2010 at 10:11 PM

    […] Diamant (I’m currently working on this, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, yet; when I went to a speaking-event featuring Diamant, she described the novel as being an introduction to the history of Israel and that it was for […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: