18 Days Until Happily Ever After

If after August 2nd you don't hear from me, no worries. I probably just reunited with my rock star boyfriend and lived happily ever after.

Over the years I've had my fair share of celebrity encounters. It all started with Ray Lewis cutting in line in front of me at Blockbuster. If he wasn't under house arrest pending murder charges at the time, I might have said something. Prudently, I let his inconsideration slide. Next time...watch out, Ray Ray. I'm coming for you.

And then there was pre-Twitter John Mayer. I arrived with my youngest sister, Samantha, extra early to the First Mariner Arena. We wanted plenty of time to snag our fifth-row-from-the-top seats, check out the t-shirts, and mentally prepare ourselves for Boy Wonder's performance. This was, after all, circa-Heavier Things and he was really on his game. Long story short, someone involved with his crew hiked up to the nosebleed section, struck up conversation with us, and then upgraded our seats to front row, center. Unbelievable. By the end of the night I had John Mayer giving me the come-hither stare as he serenaded me. (This is my story, I'll tell it the way I want.)

Back in my club-hopping days, I ran into then-Indiana Pacer Ron Artest. Well, I didn't run into him; I boldly strutted over to him, interrupted the conversation he was having with a member of his entourage, and introduced myself. This was way back when I had some swagger. I was wearing a hat and a pair of killer heels, so I was pretty much unstoppable. The memory is a little hazy, but I'm fairly certain he asked for my digits. I, of course being a lady, politely decline. (Like I said...)

Most recently, my sister and I met Britt Daniel, lyricist and lead singer of the band Spoon. Yes, make your jokes. Fork, knife, spork. Ha, ha, so funny. Not. As I was saying, we had just experienced a totally kick-buttocks show and were waiting for everyone to clear out. As we turned to leave, I looked down at the stage from our position on the balcony and saw that good ol' Britt had emerged to survey the scene. After a moment of indecision, we beelined for the stage like a bunch of school girls. Uh, I mean, we nonchalantly strolled over to say hello. Only when I got there, I could not think of one intelligent thing to say. Not one. I think what came out was something like, 'Hi, uh, thanks so much. Uh, it was a great show. I, uh, really thought you were great.' I'm not generally that easily impressed, but I was totally caught off guard. I sounded like a babbling fool.

August 2nd I get my second chance, and I'm not going to blow it this time. Samantha and I have tickets for Spoon/Arcade Fire playing in Philadelphia. I'm preparing my repartee now. I'll be witty and charming, and Britt won't know what to do with himself.

I'm neurotic today because...
...our tickets are balcony seats, roughly a gagillion feet from the stage....which means only umpteen thousand people stand between me and my man.