Hear From Me.
Earlier today, Facebook sent me a message that said “Hi Rebecca, 6,281 people who like you haven’t heard from you since your last post on Friday.” WOW. Who knew Facebook had become so passive aggressive? Remember the halcyon days of the novelty of Facebook and now it is all fake news, humblebrags, and pressure to post before Facebook reminds you that you are a terrible Facebooker? To that end, here’s what you need to hear from me:
Over the weekend, I went to Birmingham with my daughter to see our favorite podcasters do a live show. It was worth the 621 miles there and the 621 miles back, though I’ve never questioned my sanity more than between Paducah and St. Louis because that part just seems NEVER EVER EVER TO END. I think Paducah must be Old English for “why?”.
The break from PJP was a delight and seeing Jaime and Knox excel at creativity in a format completely different from mine gave me a lot to consider. Plus 10,000 bonus points for being just as nice when we met them as you would hope they would be. See below for a pic of them just being themselves and my daughter and I trying to be low-key.
I didn’t take tarts or jars with me because it made me feel awkward and I already tend toward awkwardness when I’m fangirling. We were seated directly in front of a blogger I have been reading FOR YEARS and my daughter said I held up pretty well in the conversation, only showing about 30% of my dorky side. It was pretty cringeworthy, actually.
And when all this was going on in Alabama, Jeanne and Team PJP held down the fort here. We did 300 tarts on Friday for the annual Roots and Blues artist announcement for this fall’s festival. And while I had a bit of insider information, I was super excited to see confirmation that my all-time favorite artist ever will be headlining the event. 100% do not expect to see me in the PJP booth once Jason Isbell arrives at Stephens Park. I’ll be busy securing front row seating without looking like a stalker.
Finally, no less than seven people stopped me today when I was running errands to ask about ordering Easter pies. We strongly (read: STRONGLY) suggest you pre-order your pies. If your family will shun you if you don’t show up with the White Chocolate Strawberry for Sunday brunch, this is not the weekend to throw caution to the wind. If you are like me and only talk to about five people on this earth on the telephone because Steve Jobs blessed us all with texting, we have a handy online order form.
