So... on Tuesday (November 14, now officially documented and signed as the best day of my life) Neil Gaiman spoke at my little shithole of a school in podunk central Arkansas. He did a workshop for the writing majors and honors students. And then, he did a few autographs and handshakes (both of which I received with prepubescent- girl-at-a-whatever-band-girls-squeal-over-nowadays-like glee) and was gone. Whisked away. But I had to be in class four minutes ago anyhow, so I trudged across campus, told some people their essays sucked in my nonfiction class and sighed.
BUT WAIT!
My wonderful professor, Gary, pulled me aside after class and says to me "You'd like to go eat dinner with Neil, right?" To which I think I replied "Uhhhhh, yeah?!" Or something gurgley that was supposed to be that. So Gary, henceforth the best teacher alive, drove me up to the place of eating where I wined and dined with the entire faculty of the writing department and Neil Gaiman (who, by the way, I am madly in love with, if you couldn't tell). We talked about how large my salad was, how weird Germans are, and how he made the day of some girl with a lip ring that almost fainted when she walked out of the bathroom to find him standing there.
He asked me if I had any requests for the reading. I asked him to read something we'd never heard/ that wasn't published yet. And he did.
It is called "Orange" and it is brilliant.
I really just wanted to gloat about eating dinner with my idol... because really, how often does that happen?
Toze has planned out the rest of my life for me, since every other day will suck compared to Tuesday. I am apparently going to marry Legolas AND Frodo.
Good job. My life better rock from now on, or you're so totally fire.
I lie, I suck at firing people.
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