Dear Hosts,
Bless you for having wine open and ready for me when I pulled up, and for solving the world's problems with me until 3am the first night, and for making me dinner, and for letting me choose the less comfortable guest bed to sleep on because it was more comfortable to me, and for offering to put me up in the first place. You are both incredible people, and I feel endlessly grateful to know you.
Your humble guest,
Carly
Dear Arizona weather,
Thanks for clearing up on Saturday. It made it much better to take pictures of where I was and what I was doing when it wasn’t rainy and grey.
Your sun seeker,
Carly
Dear chicken salad,
You were the absolute best. And not just because I was super hungry.
Your ingester and digester,
Carly
Dear nerves,
Thanks for not being annoying all day and choosing to wait until we pulled into the parking lot of the book store to make my stomach feel like it was going to leap out of my throat. That made it easier to digest my chicken salad earlier in the day.
Your panicker,
Carly
Dear Changing Hands,
Thanks for having those Buddhas in the window, which calmed my nerves considerably. And thanks for inviting me to be a part of your event. I was really impressed with your space, all the books you carried, and everything else that was fabulous about the evening. I hope I get to come back real soon.
Your panelist,
Carly
Dear fellow panelists,
Thanks for sharing the stage with me. I was honored to share the stage with you, and grateful to have the opportunity to listen to your insights and information. You were a really cool bunch – incredibly smart, well spoken, and so well informed. Awesomeness personified.
Your comrade,
Carly
Dear audience,
Thanks for making me feel comfortable when I felt nervous about being on stage. Thanks for asking great questions, and paying attention to the answers, and most of all, laughing when I inadvertently cracked a joke and didn’t really realize I had until I said it. (It always helps when people laugh at the right places.)
Your blusher,
Carly
Dear store publicist,
Thank you for hugging me like you knew me, taking me out after the event, and mercilessly grilling me about what’s happened since I finished writing the book. It really showed me that you not only read it, you connected to it. And that means the world to me.
Your charge,
Carly
Dear Kona Grill,
Avocado egg rolls? With chardonnay? Best post-book event meal ever.
Your hungry writer,
Carly
Dear Jager,
I love that you sleep face down on top of the man chair. I would pack you away in my suitcase if I didn’t think your mommy would hunt me down and kill me.
Your auntie,
Carly
Dear Chompies,
I have never tasted scrambled eggs with smoked salmon as good as yours. Bet on it.
Your bottomless pit,
Carly
Dear iPod,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for starting our trip home with “Paradise City” by Guns n’ Roses. Genius.
Your former headbanger,
Carly
Dear guy who gave me the finger on the freeway,
Seriously, was that necessary? I didn’t tailgate you when you were in the fast lane, but when you decided you didn’t want to move over, I figured I’d just go around you in the right lane. And when I did so, did I at any time shoot you a dirty look, or gesture to you in an un-neighborly-like manner, or swerve at you to prove a point? No, no I didn’t. In fact, the only thing I could conceivably be guilty of is singing off key on the high parts of Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” I hope you were able to figure out and let go of whatever it was that was pissing you off that day, because I don’t think it was me.
Your fellow roadster,
Carly
Dear sky,
Thank you for looking like this on the drive home:
Your admirer,
Carly
Dear weekend,
You friggin’ rocked.
Love,
Carly
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