Rock star!

Today I had an encounter with greatness: I met one of my very favorite bloggers, Feral Mom, for brunch.


She and Mr. Feral and their Feral children recently moved to L.A. from the midwest. Gone Feral is one of the first blogs I started reading regularly a couple of years ago, and I was thrilled when she suggested a meet-up -- thrilled and a little scared, because Feral Mom is, as everyone well knows, feral.


Maybe she was on her best behavior. Maybe she sensed that I'm just the sort of wuss who has a "Be nice or leave. Thank you" air freshener dangling from my rearview mirror. Maybe she just wanted to throw me off the scent. At any rate, Feral Mom seemed hardly feral at all. In fact, her post yesterday made me feel comfortable showing up in my Gap striped boy's t-shirt and Black Spot sneakers ("little boy chic," as Norman puts it). Naturally, she showed up in a cute blouse, looking very femme. She demonstrated excellent culinary taste by ordering a bleu cheese burger (and unlike fussy me, she didn't need the tomatoes left off or extra bleu cheese on the side or a side order substitution). She is smart and funny and made me feel at ease.


Or mostly at ease. At one point in our conversation, I noticed my hands were shaking and I had to set my water glass down. I told her I was nervous, and Feral Mom laughed kindly; she must be used to having this effect on her fans. I gave her a little pillow I'd made for her, embroidered with her excellent donut haiku. She revealed that Mr. Feral is a bit of a rock star in his own area of expertise, and she shared a few secrets about her experiences at BlogHer (hint: those ladies can drink). She told me she'd picked up a copy of Jane-Emily based on my recommendation, and I immediately started to second-guess myself. Why didn't I reread that before I told people to rush out and buy it? I asked myself, before remembering that nearly all of the books I read and loved at age twelve have held up nicely and Jane-Emily should be no different. The Feral offspring sound like wonderful kids and also appear to have their wildness under control, as they have been accepted for matriculation in a reputable educational institute. And despite Smokey's many rude comments about her, Feral Mom seems to miss her kitty quite a bit and will be happy when they're reunited.


When I dropped Feral Mom off after our brunch, I discovered that she lives right across the street from an In-n-Out Burger and that she had only very recently had her very first In-n-Out Burger. On top of all her other qualities, this woman has the most amazing self-control I've ever encountered!


Readers, I am in awe. L.A. has a new star, and her name is Feral.