A Mighty Heart

I like starting my blog posts with apologies, because then your expectations will be low, because Hey, She's Already Apologizing So This Will Suck, and then if anything good comes of it, you, the Reader, are pleasantly surprised.  I'm not above using Reverse Psychology tactics.  You're welcome.

I was going to blog about my friends again, but who the hell wants to hear about THAT?  It's just a bunch of drinking and personal exams by the OB-GYN on site and sex talk and health food and Bacon Cat.  And overage band members.  And the Seven Brothers table our waitress tried to hook us up with.  And boobs.

Tonight, however, I'm getting in a quickie (and not even calling it Whoreticulture Friday!) because tomorrow I volunteered to help the high school orchestra program put out Veteran's Day flags for the Optimists, and I have to be at the school at 6 Effing 30 a.m.  I must REALLY love orchestra, and Veterans, because I am not a morning person by anyone's definition.  I am dragging Oldest Daughter out of bed, and I am forcing her beau to get up and help us as well, which honestly is making me think he is a bit of a peach if he's going to help.  Well played, Freshman Boyfriend.  Well played.

What is distracting me tonight is Mariane Pearl.

Every year my fabulous book club babes go to this International Author's Event with The Women's Connection.  Last year, my friend Julie and I had a couple of drinks, and thought it would be funny to monopolize the photographer at the event.  Well, they had the last laugh when they decided to use a photo of Julie and I tipsy and laughing in all of their fliers, print ads, banners, and TV ads for The Women's Connection.  Tonight, we walked into the room and every table had brochures with photos of me looking like a braying donkey and her looking like the Head Cheerleader, AND there was a huge banner on the stage with our picture on it.

Oh, I'm sorry.  Did you think I was kidding?  But at this camera angle, I like the banner picture better.  When, oh when, will I learn to stop tucking my triple chin in this way for photos?  One of my high school friends this weekend took a picture of me, looked at her camera, and looked at me, and said "You know Jude, you're a cute girl but totally not photogenic."  I conceed that point.

While Mariane Pearl is speaking about the horrific story of her husband and Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl being kidnapped and then killed, the giant screens behind her showed Mariane, and then me and Julie, tipsy and smiling.

Normally, I'm not adverse to being an ass.  However, in this situation, it was a little...um...awkward.

But enough about me (not really).  Mariane Pearl was perfectly lovely, and I have a huge amount of respect for this incredibly smart, resilient woman. She has been through so much, and has seen so much suffering in the world, and yet, she remains hopeful and caring about the world in which we live.  Amazing.  It was a terrific experience, and I hope to see her speak again someday, because I'm so interested in what she has to say.

Of course, as part of my Author Stalker movement, I had my picture taken with her, but my damn Blackberry wasn't working properly, and quite frankly, takes horrible pictures anymore.  I look at all of my friends' iPhones with great longing.  Here is the pic of me with Mariane, but the photographer couldn't tell if the pic had been taken or not, and we both ended up looking away and then back and my upper jaw moved toward the camera and this is what I ended up with:

How does she still look so cute?  Why does the camera hate me so much?  Is it just me, or does she look like she's signaling for security?

More this weekend, I'm off to bed to prepare for flag planting before dawn.  I must REALLY love our Veterans!