Umm, yeah. I registered for the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention. Do you know how much money that was? And how much the rooms are? And the parking? And all the stuff I have to buy (like a suitcase) because I don’t travel? And all the promo stuff I have to get?
Good thing this convention is deductable for me. Still, please don’t tell Rott how much I spent…
Actually, he has a fair idea. He already ix-nayed on the parking for 5 days at $35 a day. “Oh, no. You can pay ME half that and I’ll drop you off Tuesday and pick you up on Sunday!”
Yeah, right. I’ll buy gas which means he better drive me in the Infiniti and NOT the little Honda. If I gotta be chauffeured, I want to be seen arriving in the luxury SUV. Never mind that it’s 8 years old. It’s still an Infiniti.
And idiot that I am…I have to be ME. I can’t just get a black suitcase. I have to get a giraffe print one. I can’t just get a black sleeve for my netbook (I’m not taking the full giraffe print laptop case I already have because I’m not taking all the accessories.) I have to get the giraffe print one. I can’t just carry my giraffe wallet by its leash. I have to get a new Dooney letter carrier bag that I can sling across my shoulders. Giraffe print, of course.
I didn’t get new pajamas. They didn’t have giraffe print ones. *grumble, grumble*
Damn it. People are gonna remember me. Even if it’s to laugh at my giraffe crap.
And did I tell you that I get to sign books? The print ones and cover flats for the ebooks? I DO! Two days in a row! OMG! I will totally feel like a real author then. But I think I need to figure out how to sign my pen name…
This is like a new world for me. I’m excited and scared to freaking death. And the money…*moans* What was I thinking? Do you know what I could do with the money? I could buy a new washing machine and a new battery for the Infiniti, both of which died last week. But no. I had to indulge myself. My ego. Well, my author ego really. Not that I have much of one to indulge but by the time this convention is through I’ll either have a little bit bigger one or what I do have will be reduced to rubble.
Have I mentioned I’m a complete wallflower who is terrified of meeting new people? Hilly remembers how I am. I would never have faced Dave Diego without her. But here I am willingly facing the firing squad of hundreds of people on my own.
Someone told me I would be okay once they slapped that name tag on me that says, “LEX VALENTINE, AUTHOR.” And maybe that is the crutch I need to lean on to make it through. I need to remember that even though I am pretty much low on the totem pole of authorship and pretty much unknown, there are SOME people out there who will recognize my name. I just have to keep remembering that I had the balls to walk up to New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan at the Orange County RWA meeting and she made my year by looking at my name tag and saying, “I know who you are.”
Maybe that’s what I was thinking when I whipped out my credit card and paid for this convention.
Now, how about a Marcus that I don’t need my credit card to pay for?
Oh yum. God, he makes my Mondays easier. Despite what I spent this weekend. *winces*
Have a great Monday everyone!