After all of that big talk about eating so well, I was a rock star yesterday as I finished the bag of Lays potato chips as an afternoon snack, and then had cake for dinner. But it was for Dooce, and really, it was worth it.
Carrie and Maggie and I got to the bookstore more than a half hour early - but it was a good thing, because there were (I'd say, and I can only estimate because there were at LEAST as many people there as at our wedding) around 120 people there. We got great seats, on the aisle in case seven-months-pregnant Carrie had to make a mad dash to the bathroom, and right in back of some nice-looking white haired older couples.
Wait, wait, what? What were nice-looking older couples doing waiting for Dooce? If you haven't noticed, she's kinda vulgar and has quite the potty mouth at times. And she talks at length about baby-having and the hardships thereof on one's body, specifically the "swimsuit region."
These couples weren't together either - there were two separate couples on either side of the aisle looking around and waiting excitedly. I turned to Maggie and said "I bet they don't know who they're waiting to see."
Sure enough, when the blue-haired woman got to the microphone and introduced our speaker as the author of the blog Dooce.com, and It Sucked and Then I Cried, the couples gave each other confused looks and gathered up their coats and left very quickly.
I was actually relieved. There's something about Heather that you don't really want to share with your grandma. I didn't want to accidently catch one of their eyes while I was belly laughing about boobs and waking up in a puddle of your own milk.
I didn't want to be traumatized by having to see them wiping away tears of hilarity like I was doing when we were talking about the mess that's left of your bottom after pushing a baby out, or the idea that private parts that bounce right back after baby could fold sheets and sing show tunes too.
I'd just like to keep that between me and the rest of the internets.