April is famous!
A few weeks ago I twittered that April met the Pioneer woman at Pottery Barn. Well, April is getting her 15 minutes of fame today! And, for the record she is gorgeous and resplendent!
Tonight PW was blogging live and answering questions from her readers. Here is my question:
Happy 40th! My dear friend April met you (and Missy) at Pottery Barn a few weeks ago and she told us all how fabulous, beautiful and sweet you are! Do you want to do a girl’s night? We are so fun! Promise!!
And, here is PW's response:
My dear friend April met you (and Missy) at Pottery Barn a few weeks ago…Do you want to do a girl’s night? We are so fun! Promise!
Okay, I have to purge this demon in my soul and tell this story. The day after Christmas we moved furniture into the Lodge. I woke up that morning at 4:00 so we could get an early start, and I brushed my teeth and washed my face. That is all. I put on jeans and a torn up black waffle-weave long sleeve t-shirt of Marlboro Man’s and some really hideous white running shoes, because I was doing nothing but moving furniture.
After we moved furniture, Missy decided I needed some lamps and offered to take me to the big city—and hour and a half away—to help me get them and a few other things. I said “no way” because I didn’t have time to shower and there was no way I was going out into the world looking the way I looked. She agreed that I looked horrible and assured me, “It’s not like we’re going to see anyone we know.” I said no twelve more times, but because Missy is passive-aggressive, before I knew it we were driving to the big city.
Let me paint you a picture: pale, unmade-up face. Dirt all over my black shirt. Greasy bangs. Baggy eyes. Pretty much as bad as a person can look was how I looked. But I was okay with it. Missy assured me we wouldn’t see anyone we knew.
Our first stop was Pottery Barn. We examined lamps, lampshades, mirrors, and other charming home accessories. We flagged down a beautiful—absolutely resplendent and glowing—blond Pottery Barn employee to help us, and I probably scratched my armpit while we were telling her what we needed. Then I probably picked sleepy sand out of my eye. I hope I didn’t pull up the waist of my jeans. Then she asked me if my name was Ree. I said yes. Then she told me she reads my website. I should have said “No. My name is Mabel.” But I’ve never been quick on my feet.
Then I asked her to please tell her friends, whom, she told me, also reads my site, that I had on the most smashing raspberry-colored lipstick.
Then I left. And my agoraphobia grew by a factor of ten.
When we got in the car, Missy said, “I can’t believe that just happened. I mean…LOOK at you!”
Just kidding. She didn’t say that. But I guarantee you she thought it.
To clarify: this does not happen to me on a regular basis. It was a fluke. An embarrassing, pride-sucking fluke, granted…but still a fluke.
***pausing comments so I can go put on some raspberry-colored lipstick***
After we moved furniture, Missy decided I needed some lamps and offered to take me to the big city—and hour and a half away—to help me get them and a few other things. I said “no way” because I didn’t have time to shower and there was no way I was going out into the world looking the way I looked. She agreed that I looked horrible and assured me, “It’s not like we’re going to see anyone we know.” I said no twelve more times, but because Missy is passive-aggressive, before I knew it we were driving to the big city.
Let me paint you a picture: pale, unmade-up face. Dirt all over my black shirt. Greasy bangs. Baggy eyes. Pretty much as bad as a person can look was how I looked. But I was okay with it. Missy assured me we wouldn’t see anyone we knew.
Our first stop was Pottery Barn. We examined lamps, lampshades, mirrors, and other charming home accessories. We flagged down a beautiful—absolutely resplendent and glowing—blond Pottery Barn employee to help us, and I probably scratched my armpit while we were telling her what we needed. Then I probably picked sleepy sand out of my eye. I hope I didn’t pull up the waist of my jeans. Then she asked me if my name was Ree. I said yes. Then she told me she reads my website. I should have said “No. My name is Mabel.” But I’ve never been quick on my feet.
Then I asked her to please tell her friends, whom, she told me, also reads my site, that I had on the most smashing raspberry-colored lipstick.
Then I left. And my agoraphobia grew by a factor of ten.
When we got in the car, Missy said, “I can’t believe that just happened. I mean…LOOK at you!”
Just kidding. She didn’t say that. But I guarantee you she thought it.
To clarify: this does not happen to me on a regular basis. It was a fluke. An embarrassing, pride-sucking fluke, granted…but still a fluke.
***pausing comments so I can go put on some raspberry-colored lipstick***
Hey is April your friend that you told me would like to meet cowboy Josh? Well at that time he had just started dating a girl. So, I told him to tell when it was over. 2 weeks ago I ran into him and he told me they were no longer together and he was ready!! So, tell you friend!
ReplyDeleteKatie, you are famous! PW put actual words from you on her site! I read PW's post earlier today and wondered if it was from anyone I know...I guess it was!! If PW comes to the Big City for a girl's night you have to invite me!
ReplyDeleteHilary.
April told me about this! So awesome! I love that PW put your question & her response on her blog, too. You're both famous!
ReplyDelete