Whenever I would catch one of those programs on television where "Number One Fans" get to meet their idols, I would have this spasm of anxiety ripple through my body. I'm nobody's number one fan. Not only that, I'm only a half-assed number two million fan. I don't know people's names, I don't remember the artist of the latest tune I'm whistling and I couldn't tell you my favorite actor, actress, director, animator, painter, singer or general performance artist. I'm terrified of running into even moderately famous people (despite my odd habit of relating myself in degrees of separation to stars all the time - it's simply confirmation of six degrees). But I do now have a favorite lexicographer.
Strange word, strange experience. I think it's partly my own love of words that makes me fascinated by a person who does dictionaries for a living, but then you throw in her interesting hobbies and the healthy geographic distance between us (it could be a problem if she lived closer - ask me what happened when I bumped into Danny Glover at a juice bar - the memory of it still makes me shudder, thinking 'I'm getting too old for this...) and against all odds and my better judgement, I've become a Fan. It started with a quirky TED presentation that I found under the category FUNNIEST. While I was literally laughing out loud, I wondered at the audience's lack of laughter and admired her costume. Now I know that she likely made that dress herself!
So, how do I know that I'm a Fan and not just an interested party? I'm reading about sewing, nearly every day. I've been resistant to sewing for years. My mom tried to teach me and we wasted tons of cash on fabric and patterns - I would keep trying, but the pattern was out of style before I would even get the fabric cut. My home economics sewing project was a pair of jersey shorts made of two separate colors - one for each leg - and no pockets. Sure, I was done before everyone else, but the pattern was probably meant for a kindergartner! E bought me a sewing machine that I've now lugged through half a dozen moves without ever tuning up and now, based on reading this blog, I'm fantasizing about my office at the new house being 1/2 home office and 1/2 crafting space, so I can leave my sewing machine set up! Leave it set up? It's never been set up?!
I do enjoy the writing and the peek into another world, though. And I even know her name. :)
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