Lucy & Ethel "Meet" Thelma, Louise & Nan!

I have NEVER felt luckier (or sillier) in my life!

Last night Amy B. (aka "Ethel") and myself (aka "Lucy") headed off for "The Pioneer Woman's Cookbook Signing" at King's English Bookstore in Salt Lake City.

And that my friends is just the beginning.

As we were making the drive, Ethel phoned Fred (some of us call him "Bishop") to tell him we were on our way. Trying not to eavesdrop, I overheard her say, "Really? Oh . . . ."

"What?"

"He said he saw on the news that there are hundreds of people in line."

It was still 20 minutes before the signing began.

"No!" I said. "That can't be!"

My heart sank.

I'd been looking forward to this for a few months. Really.

This wasn't how I pictured it at all.

I really imagined that I'd have a few minutes with The Pioneer Woman at the signing. I would tell her about my family, the recipes I loved making, what a great writer she was, how I was her Julie and she was my Julia. She'd eventually invite me to the ranch. We'd ride horses and eat creme brule'.

How could this be?

Well, don't you worry my friends. The "dream" and "reality" weren't too too far off.

As we got near the bookstore, Ethel and I realized Fred was right: HUNDREDS of people--and their cars--lined the streets of the tiny tiny bookstore. (It's really more like a cottage than a bookstore. The entire city block--on both sides--was packed with people holding their Pioneer Woman Cookbooks, just pining for their turn with the blog-famous "P-Dub.")

My first concern: parking.

My second concern: we didn't have a cookbook.

My third concern: parking. (Most people don't know this about me, but I'm kinda lazy when it comes to parking. I just like to be close. My motto: Park close or go home.)

Somehow, someway, the parking gods (forgive the sacrilige), smiled on us. After a few quick turns down very crowded streets, Ethel and I spied a driveway with a wee-little street sign marked "P" for parking. I turned down the driveway and found not one, not two, but three or four open parking spaces . . .

directly behind King's English! Like, we were in the parking lot for the darn bookstore itself!

Sound the trumpets because THIS marks the beginning of our good fortune.

Still giddy over finding the parking spaces, we locked the car and started walking into the sea of people. They were everywhere.

As we waded through the people, Ethel began asking about the wait, the line, etc. Most everyone was holding the beautiful orange/green/autumn-colored cookbook. We asked where/when they bought the books. Most had bought them earlier. Elsewhere. One woman told us she'd "been all over Salt Lake City and they were sold out."

My heart sank.

Then someone asked us "What letter are you?"

"Letter?"

"Yeah. They handed out tickets/letters for the signing. Groups of 20 for each letter, A-Z and then some double-letters. She's signing in that order."

My heart sank again.

We didn't have a ticket. They were "out."  As in "sold-out" (but they were free).

And, we didn't even have a cookbook.

(But we did have parking.)

So, as we stood there and considered our options (which in my mind were: 1.) Call the whole thing off, leave and get a hot chocolate, 2.) Offer to BUY someone's ticket and book, 3.) Wait in a miserably long line and hope P-Dub had mercy on us and signed our shirts at 2am.) . . .

P-Dub herself came walking by!

I think the crowd was so focused on getting in line/gauging the wait, most people didn't notice her.

But P-Dub noticed Lucy and Ethel.

She did!

In fact, she looked straight at Ethel and said, "how are you?"

That was it for me. I decided right then and there, I was getting my dang cookbook and I was getting it signed!

I felt like a groupie at a concert--determined to get backstage. (You know where this is going, right? We're going backstage people!)

Somehow, within a matter of minutes, Ethel and I find ourselves at the front of the line asking a bookstore employee if we can just "go in an buy a cookbook--not get it signed, just buy the book."

Her response, "Yes, I'm pretty sure we have some leftover."

Nervous about "cutting in line," I jokingly hollar to the masses, "We're not here for the signing, I just need a copy of Catcher and the Rye."

They erupted in laughter. I don't think they thought it was as funny as I did.

So, for those of you keeping score at home:

* Parking: check.
* Front of the line: check.
* Cookbook: NEXT

We walk past what feels like 200 hundred people (including the blogger Dooce--who I don't think is friendly), into the bookstore, and up to the cash register (passing two women from Oregon who are dressed to the 9s--and holding a Whittney-fabulous gift basket they have assembled for The Pioneer Woman).

I'm wishing I brought a gift basket.

I'm wishing I lived in Oregon.

No, I'm not. Tee hee. I like Utah.

So, here we are at the cash register (which is about 2 feet from the door--I'm telling you Alice in Wonderland could be filmed here.  This bookstore is itty bitty.).

At the cash register, Ethel asks if they have P-Dub Cookbooks for sale and the part-Elfin/part-British clerk cheerfully tells us they do. (Much to my surprise. Note to self: Never trust people in long lines. They're pessimists.)

Ethel and I plop down our $29.xx and proudly clutch our P-Dub Cookbooks.

Yay! Sweet success!

Feeling like we'd accomplished pretty much a miracle--parking, seeing P-Dub/exchanging a hello, AND getting the cookbook (without waiting in line)--I am thinking we can mark "Meet Pioneer Woman" off of our "100 Things to Do Before We Cross-Over List."

But for some reason I just can't leave well enough alone.

I swear I hear the theme from I Love Lucy playing in my ears.

And the bookstore is so small--P-Dub has to be nearby. Right?

Remember, she's my Julia. I have to see her again.

So I leave Ethel and wander up a flight of stairs near the giftwrap section of the bookstore(which looks like it is intended for Employees Only, perhaps.)

And guess what?

As I get to the top I am staring face-to-face with Nan, The Pioneer Woman's mother-in-law!

I nearly scream.

Fortunately, I keep my wits and say, "You were on the blog today, you are grandma!"

"Yes, I am. And here's my other daughter-in-law, Missy; she's here, too." she says warmly.

I quickly run back down the stairs and get Ethel, "Pssst . . . Ethel Amy. Up here."

At this point I am giggling uncontrolably. Ethel knows what I've found.

And as she gets to the top of the stairs, she recognizes Nan and Missy, too.

We are IN.

And I mean, IN!

Like, at the front of the line. Backstage. The Big Show. Where the family and bodyguard/agent are standing (to the side of the table where P-Dub was signing).

I can't stand it! And I can't stop giggling.

What a night!

* Parking: check
* Cookbook: check
* Seeing P-Dub: check
* Getting to the actual signing: CHECK and CHECK!
* Meeting Nan and Missy: CHECK

Once in the signing area, I'll admit I am a little nervous about how The Pioneer Woman will feel about us sneaking in, so rather than step on her toes, I just ask if Nan and Missy will sign our cookbooks--to which they agree. Then, as Ethel fumbles (she doesn't fumble, but I love that word) for a pen, I take out my cellphone and snap a few photos of The Pioneer Woman signing other people's books. (It seemed the most polite thing to do, afterall, people had been in line since 4pm. Some people traveled for hours to get there. Some people brought their children. I couldn't just STEP on their toes and be that brazen.)

But spending time with Nan and Missy? That seems appropriate, even fun(ny). (At one point, The Pioneer Woman claps her hands three times and says, "Missy, can you take photos? You aren't doing your job!" And they all laugh. P-Dub is joking. Kind of.)

So here we are, Lucy and Ethel, meeting Louise and her mother-in-law, while Thelma signs books.

Ethel is chatty, asking Nan and Missy about their visit, hotel, The Ranch in OK, and the early morning talk show circuit (which Ethel knows about--LOL!).

Missy and Nan are very kind, very gracious, very friendly. We are fast-friends (at least Ethel and I think we are). At one point they even ask Ethel what happened to her foot. (She wears a pretend cast. Just kidding. She has a fracture. For real.)

It was honestly more than I could take. The whole night.

Here we are, visiting with the family, watching P-Dub sign away.

I am in heaven.

And then, it was "time" to go.

The area is crowded. We'd just won the Book Signing Lotto. We couldn't ask for more.

It was a perfect night.

And how many times do you get to say that?

(The whole thing, start to finish, 35 minutes. As we walk out people in the crowd are asking, "How long did you wait? What letter were you?")

And. I. Can't. Stop. Giggling.