Signing Dilemas

Well, do I have a story for you today! It involves a book signing, a curling iron, and a pair of pink fluffy slippers.
Let me start at the beginning ...
After a rather uneventful Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning practically shaking in my boots, aware that there was only two hours before my very first book signing. I'd organised this weeks ago of course, built up much hype by organising radio interviews with the ABC and news articles in the Cairns Post. Even with all said hype I'd been pretending that it would never come, hoping my encroaching nerves were just a case of really bad indigestion.
I started out with a leisurely breakfast - leisurely because I'd guilted my husband into making it for me, telling him that I simply didn't have the time to whip up eggs when I still had to pursue my ongoing battle with the curling iron. Fortunately the curling iron was on board today, only burning my neck once (bloody miracle). Thankfully not being hickey material or third degree burns, I counted my blessings that at least my last quarter tin of hairspray helped tame all the new curls in place.
So, with breakfast downed, hair looking pretty damn fabulous, and makeup hiding just about any flaw I care not mention, I brushed my teeth, hopped into my chosen dress and headed off to the signing with a belly full of butterflies.
First stop was picking up mum and dad. This went smoothly, even though my husband decided to scare the crap out of them with his very poor driving skills. (Navaro, if you're reading this ... kidding).
Approximately thirty minutes later and with about that to spare, I felt my heart beat kick into over time. I took off my seat belt, opened the car door and ...
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! F@#$!
Yes I swore. It echoed around the shopping center car park. Birds flew from trees, children ran away screaming, then crickets filled the ensuing silence while I stared down at disaster. There I was, foot dangling outside the car door, and what did I see? My bloody pink fluffy slippers still attached to my feet! What the hell!
Panic ensued. I seriously debated cancelling the entire signing on account of my pink fluffy feet. I then thought to myself 'I could drive home. I could break sound barriers and posted speed limits and grab something other than my slippers! I even have time to throw up!' But alas my mum's a smart cookie and suggested the most obvious answer of all - buy a new pair.
So in the end I ended up with a rockin' new pair of shoes, great hair, minor burns, and an awesome signing at Collins bookstore. The best part - I forgot how nervous I was because I was worrying about my damn feet!
Moral of the story everyone - take your mum with you everywhere. If she doesn't buy you a new pair of shoes in a dire situation, she loves you enough to beat the crap out of the next person walking past and stealing theirs!
Have a good one everyone!

Kristy :)