When friends tell me their awesome news, I make it a point to let them know I am FUCKING EXCITED. I widen my eyes, open my mouth into an “O,” and put my hands up. It probably looks like I’m about to be hit by a train, but that’s my Congratulations Face.
It’s nearly impossible for me to be excited for myself. I feel self-conscious and selfish when I sneak into the bathroom and give myself the same Congratulations Face in the mirror I give to everyone else.
Plus, it’s hard to fist bump yourself. I know because I tested it out once. It makes you cross-eyed.
A year ago, I submitted an essay to Smith Magazine about the moment that changed my life for their upcoming book, The Moment: Wild, Poignant, Life-Changing Stories from 125 Writers and Artists Famous and Obscure (Harper Perennial).
Why am I even doing this? They’ve received thousands and thousands and thousands of submissions. I’m not even a real writer!
A month passed. Six months passed. I didn’t hear back from them. I forgot about it. And then a month ago, Smith Magazine dropped me a line, “You’re in the book, bitch!” Well, they didn’t say “bitch” but I added that in my head because I think it makes the news sound more official.
It hits booksellers January 3rd. My moment is titled “Liner Notes,” page 164.
I’m excited. And I just gave myself a fist bump. Fuck being cross-eyed.
UPDATE: To celebrate this good news, I have purchased the following items today: ChapStick Flava Craze Lip Balm, heavy-duty adjustable 3-hole punch, a dozen retractable gel roller pens, and a bag of Funyuns. I feel pretty gangsta right now. Thank you for letting me share.
A shout out to my friend Carolyn for sending me this picture.
