ALA Weekend: Week or Weak?

I'm off to another fantastic ALA (or Awkward Literatureaholics Anonymous) Conference in DC this weekend. I'm braving the train with my author/agent autographing pad, extensive spy gear, a big empty suitcase to fill with free books, and one of my most favorite writer friends. (Not Veda Bee. And no, my friend is NOT invisible this time.)

DC or bust, dudes.

I suppose I'm getting to that ripe age in my life (19) when I no longer care what others think of me. Go ahead. Call me a dork, a worm, a nerd, a geek (I wish!), or make fun of my awkward hobbies, or even my looks. I'm not going to waste time wondering why my interests don't always align with the masses or the popular kids, or whether or not I really do resemble an endangered hairy-eared dwarf lemur at all because I don't. (Thanks, Mom!) At the end of the day, I just can't help it....I love books! I'll happily admit it. I'm a dork! And yes, I know I know,...not the cool kind either. I just love the feel of new glossy covers and the sound of crisp page turns. I love dog-eared corners. I obsess over my own collection of favorites that bring great memories, that have worn with age, with scribbles, and saliva. And I love the familiar musty smell of ink on paper at the library, imagining all the other people and places they've touched and seen. And not to mention, books make me feel brilliant and alive, especially when I find print errors hidden in published pages. Ahh, I can't emphasize more; I love books! (And yes, I'd totally marry them if I could...)

Now go be off with your hobbies and your bad self. Who cares what others think? They'll worship you when you grow up to be incredible. I know you will!

My weekend conference goals:

-to catch my train on time and not lose my friend in the crowds.
-to arrive without getting too lost.
-to stalk at least one great famous author for an exceptional amount of time.
-to scout out all literary treasures and get them home legally.
-to NOT roll over anyone with my filled suitcase.
-to make an impression after "bumping" into agents like Arthur A. Levine or Jodi Reamer or Anyone else.

The goal in making goals is to keep the list short, specific, and attainable. I will accomplish one or more of the above. I will. I will. I will.

Let the nerds unite!

And PS on those lemurs mentioned above: They are one of the rarest mammals in the world. People steal them because they're so darn cute.

Got Zen?

to take a Zen moment and relax. Let go of all your worries for the next grade, papers, standardized tests, camp applications, recitals, events, races, nagging,...what am I leaving out? Let go of all that end of the year stressers and remember to enjoy life, your family, your health and the amazing sunshine! Yay! Listen to the wise one.

Veda Bee asks, "Any fabulous summer plans?"

Summer!!!!

Now that you're free, watch out for CARS! And minivans. Especially the blue ones. Unless you own one, they’re evil. They’re dangerous. They come out of nowhere and make U-turns into your crosswalk, directly striking your left zygomatic bone, patella and thigh when you least expect it. But if you do own one (a van, not broken zygomatic bone), I'm not posting here for condemnation's sake. On the contrary, I genuinely believe ownership of such a frightfully intimidating vehicle automatically eliminates all possible likeliness you may get run over or hit by one. What are the chances?

Blue minivans are as loyal and committed to their operators as Veda Bee is to me, or how plague sticks to your teeth if you stop brushing. I mean, do you ever see a mother bird eat their own young? I don’t think so. And that’s exactly why they try to clear off everyone and everything else corrupting their roadways and paths. Swipe! Loyal and committed. Now before you run off to invest in a blue mini-mean mobile with your college savings and week's allowance, let me just say that during the endless hours of recovery and painkillers, I had much time to come up with an elaborate list of environmentally-sound transportation alternatives for the next time you want to go somewhere but too scared of those cleverly crafted, face-altering, and bruise-thirsting metal machines.

Happy Summer and BE SAFE!

Miss Lou