1. Make sure you bathe that day. (I did!) Add 1 point.
2. Wear shoes that you’ve mastered walking in. (I did!) Avoid wedges that may cause you to tumble head first into said celeb. (Shockingly, I did not! Tumbling face first into traffic in New Haven, CT really teaches a middle aged hausfrau a lesson! Stop, drop, and roll kids!) Add 2 points.
3. Scramble through your mom-drobe full of khaki shorts and solid color tee shirts, with at least one child hanging on you screeching for a juice box, and pluck the loudest, flowy-est, trippi-est, guaranteed to make those around you feel like they toked it upp-ist when they look at you–shirt you can find in your closet. (I did!) Minus 537 points.
4. When your husband arrives home from a long, arduous workday on the links, ask him if he likes your loud, flowy, trippy shirt. When he remarks, “I love it!” in between waxing poetic about his (Birdie? Pars? Whatever, Phil Mickelson.), do.not.believe.him. He’s not a chick. He’s not listening–he’s on a golf glow. He wants to get laid sometime again in this lifetime. He clearly can’t be trusted. How dumb am I? Rookie mistake. (Minus 47 points.) (P.S. to the hubs: Guess what book I’m ordering? 50 Shades of Nuthin‘!)
5. Make sure you consume a solid dinner of 1.5 potato skins and ?? glasses of chardonnay, take a two hour break, then drink two draft beers at a Mexican restaurant that probably hasn’t cleaned their taps since Christ was a child (chardonnay and draft beer–two great tastes that taste great together
nooooo) so you’ll be at your most clever and bright stunningly rambly later in the night! (Eh, minus 5 points. Even celebs do that. I’m not ready for Promises to Keep just yet.)
6. Have the picture taken under the glow of a screaming neon light (photographers should totally use neon lights more) so as best to enhance your worn off makeup/bright red “I’ve had a few drinks/Irish potato skin” face. Have your friend take it with your kick ass Target camera that’s probably out of focus and has been dropped 52 times by the pint sized terrorists you live with–the same ones indirectly responsible for your hasty shirt choice. (Minus 10 points.) (Lisa Wallace, you are not responsible for the catastrophe that is moi!)
7. Close your eyes during the picture so you can show the world that you are so excited to meet the celeb you fell asleep mid sentence! (Add 5 points)
8. Make sure you cock your head to the side, with your eyes closed, at such an angle that it both enhances and highlights all four of your chins and makes it appear you’re trying to snuggle on the celeb’s shoulder. (Minus 5 billion points.)
9. When you open your mouth to speak, don’t. Just don’t. Have your friend carry duct tape just in case you can’t be trusted to mutter a generic, “So lovely to meet you! I’m a big fan of your work!” Especially….if you’re at risk of speaking in one loud, run on sentence about writing, your blog, your book, and are prone to make recommendations to the celebrity about trading in his matching towels for a kid, then both nonsensically yet enthusiastically remark, “Tell the prez I said hi!” Just stfu and keep on moving. Even if your eyes are closed and your shoes are wrong, and you might walk off a cliff. (You might be doing the world a favor!) (I might have done some
all of this. *Hangs head in shame.* Minus higher than English major can count, points.) Instead, pretend you’re on one of those moving airport sidewalk thingys…smile, wave, shake hands, stop for one second, and keep on keeping on…back away slowly, while smiling brightly with your eyes wide open!
10. If you don’t think you can be trusted to adhere to steps 1-9, and are possibly not fit for human interaction, just stay home in your favorite pink snowman pj’s. (Zero points. Come onnnn, don’t hate the playah, just hate the game. You gotta try! Celebs are just people, too. They trip over their own feet too sometimes. I just know it. Probably most do. Everyone but Seth Meyers. He’s a smooth criminal and his mama raised him right.)
SORRY SETH MEYERS! IT'S ALL CHARDONNAY/THE LIGHTING/MY INABILITY TO SPEAK IN CONCISE SENTENCES/THE HUB'S FAULT.
Soooooooooo. Yeah. I went a little cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. I tried to explain to the hubs that me meeting a famous writer who’s living the dream is like a high school hockey player meeting Tim Thomas. Or a suburban golfer meeting Tiger Woods (if Tiger Woods were worth meeting..the piggy wiggy!) But, I have to tell you, my tens of readers, all kidding aside? Seth Meyers is a mensch. Yes, he is. His mama really did raise him right. Not only was he gracious in listening to me ramble and posing for a picture (Sorry! Sorry! Sorry to the lovely, Kelly, who set the pic up for me! Sorry! I hope Seth is still speaking to you!) , more importantly, he was in my town (his hometown) to perform a show at our high school to benefit our education foundation
not to be stalked by a muffin top. His mom, known affectionately around town by her students as “Madame Meyers”, retired after 28 years of teaching French in our school system. 28 years, people! With shorties in middle school (Also known as the most sucktasticly difficult age group ever–oh come, on..we all know it! Think about how YOU were then!). 28 years! I wouldn’t last 28 minutes.
As a tribute to her, he put on one hell of a hilarious show and raised over $40,000 to fund special programs for teachers. And, established a $25,000 endowment for language arts in his mom’s name. I know!
I’m the mom of three boys and my mom taught second grade for a number of years. So naturally I have a soft spot for sons who honor their mamas and for the too often thankless job teachers do. A few months ago, there was a huge vote in our town about teacher raises. I wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper imploring people to vote and in it I said, “Our teachers spend well over thirty hours per week with our kids. They educate our kids. They nurture our kids in our absence. And yes, they inspire our kids to challenge themselves and help instill confidence in them. We can have the most wonderful facilities, books, and technology available, but without our teachers those buildings are just a pile of bricks and mortar. The teachers make all the difference. I would challenge everyone to think back to a teacher who made a difference in their lives–and I’d be surprised if you only thought of one or even two.”
It’s true. Teachers really help shape who we are and what we become. I hope Seth Meyers reminded people of that the other night. And while most of us won’t grow up to be a Seth Meyers or come close to enjoying his success or influence, we should all be grateful to the teachers who’ve made a difference in our lives and do what we can do, however small, to help support them as they support our kids–our biggest investments.
(Side bar? And please with the “Wah, wah, teachers get their summers off!” Hell yeah, and they need them…to recuperate from the kids and crizazy parents who stalk them—now on email and in person. Do you want me to go into detail about the parent who cornered my mama by the frozen peas and made me late for the season finale of Miami Vice? Sorry Tubbs! Would you corner your accountant in the bakery and start showing him your receipts? I dare you. I really do.) Seriously. I chaperoned a field trip a few weeks ago and you know what happened…I got a migraine and was forced to drink beers in front of some nuns. It’s not pretty what these teachers go through. (Don’t get me started about the lesson planning, paper grading, after “They get out at 3!” on nights and weekends, and buying all kinds of shizzy with their own money due to cheaptastic budgets.)
So yeah, I admire Seth Meyers for being a talented writing force, enough to stalk him like a crazed, tripped out muffin top, but what I love more is that he hasn’t forgotten where he came from—and that he recognizes the foundation for his success started at home, here in this place.
Soooo, in light of all that, no hard feelings that Seth did not answer my tweet from earlier in the day where I invited him to tailgate under the bleachers before the show. I told him I had a 12 pack and I wasn’t afraid to share it. Perhaps he thought I needed it more. Maybe he was hanging out with his awesome teacher mama. Or my shirt scared him off. Either way, I totally understand.
Thank you, Seth Meyers, and merci (that’s all I got!), Madame Meyers, for your generosity to this town–the town my hubs and I love, where we’ve chosen to raise and educate our kids. You both have had such an important role to play here. To teach, to remind, to make people laugh? Is truly divine, isn’t it?
One more thing? (See? I told you concise sentences…not my thing! Now you know why I talked too long to Seth!)
I HIGHLY RECOMMEND GETTING YOUR PICTURE TAKEN SOBER, WITH FRESH MAKEUP, IN A SOLID COLOR, WITH PROPER LIGHTING, TAKEN WITH A FANCY CAMERA BY A PROFESSIONAL! THANK YOU DEBBIE ELLIS PHOTOGRAPHY!
I wonder if I could photo shop Seth into that picture? Hmm….My apologies if you had to bleach your eyes from that last photo. Btw, this photo will be in MAH book, Mommy Mixology: A Cocktail for Every Calamity! Now available on Amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com for pre-order. MEEP!! (If you forget the title, just ask *cough* Seth.) Okay, I’m backing away slowly now…..I really am. No, I am.