29 March 2011

Of Celebrity

Before we move on, I just wanted to let everyone know that my sister is safe at home.  Apparently the membrane "resealed" so Baby McKenzie is still tucked inside, awaiting her debut when the the time is right.  Thank you to all who were praying.

Between my sister and my sister-in-law, I'm fairly certain I've exceeded my allotted 200 text messages for the month.  While I waited out the drama of my pending niece, I had a more excited dramatist on the other side, living out her fantasy.  As a part of her job (and oh what a rough job it must be), she was asked to act as hostess for her idol (read: celebrity BFF), Ms. Jen Hatmaker.  If you have not heard of her, you need to find one of her books and read it, or, better yet, listen to her speak, you won't regret it.  And I had the pleasure of sharing every moment of giddiness via text (which, as a recent texter was kind of fun).

Part of me wanted to be jealous, until I remembered that I am horrible in the face of celebrity of any kind.  While I prefer to imagine myself the picture of calm at all times, rather than crying all over myself or other such nonsense, the truth is, while I envision myself, for purely hypothetical purposes, walking up to Michael Tait and saying coolly, "Hey, my sister would kill me if I didn't get a picture, would you mind?", in reality, in some kind of out-of-body experience, I find myself shoving a borrowed iPhone in his face and snapping a photo before running away giggling like a twelve-year-old girl.

Not that that's happened.

Especially not within the past two months of my life.

Thus, while I'd love to hang out with Dayla and her new BFF, Jen, I realize that for the sake of my dignity and that of my calm and collected sis-in-law, it's best that she can't come enjoy some home-made lasagna.

Thus, while they giggled over sweet tea at McCalister's, chatting it up like life-long friends, I was thrilled to be playing Micaiah's version of Twister (read: hopping along rows of colored dots) and causing endless giggles in my son via claps and tickles.

Believe me, it was safer this way, for everyone.


  1. Angela, I love your writing style. You always make me smile and think a little more about what you've said :)

  2. Thank you! Knowing your love of literature, I take that as a great compliment :)