It’s 5:30 a.m. here in SF. 5:30. Need coffee. Must. Have. Coffee. Up since 4:04 a.m. Curse you, Pacific Standard Time when my body is on Eastern.

Shannon and I have to head out to the airport in a few minutes to catch our flight to Seattle. Here’s the info on today’s and tomorrow’s signings in beautemous Seattle:

Thursday, January 24th
4 pm
All for Kids
2900 NE Blakely
Seattle, WA

7 pm
University Book Store
4326 University Way NE
Seattle, WA

Friday, January 25th
3:15pm
Mountlake Terrace Library
23300 – 58th Ave. W
Mountlake Terrace, WA
Phone: 360-651-7069

6:30 pm
Third Place Books
17171 Bothell Way
Lake Forest Park, WA

Hope you Seattle peeps can make it.

We’ve had a wild ‘n’ crazy time of it here in San Francisco. How wild ‘n’ crazy was it, Libba? Won’t you tell us?
Yes, yes, I will. Thanks for asking.
Yesterday, we ate at a place called Giant Chef. I don’t think the day can get any better than dining in an establishment where you expect enormous mythical creatures to make your BLT. And do you know what? The line cook was, indeed, a very, very big man. With a penetrating glare. Directed at our table. (I swear to you, I was not doing that thing where I eat with my feet. Not all the time. Just a little bit.) What else? We spoke to four schools. At Walnut Creek Intermediate School, Shannon led an exercise on retelling a fairy tale (I got to be the Big Bad Wolf. Sort of typecasting, but also a dream fulfilled.) She rocked it out so hard, and I could barely be the wolf for laughing at Shannon’s hilarious improvs. At Valley View Middle School, we had back-up dancers for our rousing closing number, which is a musical number, even though we don’t know the lyrics to our song, or the notes, or rather, the notes are a loose interpretation of “singing.” Really, it’s their fault for giving us microphones in the first place and fueling our rock star delusions of grandeur. And when the song is “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” well, I think you know what you’re in for. Turn around, bright eyes. Turn. Around. We got lost on the way to the school and I began to giggle over the street signs: Norse Drive, Viking Drive, Tyr Drive. I was waiting for Odin and Balder, but no such luck. We did find the YMCA, though. Sadly, the kids out front were not performing Wagner.

We had a lovely gig at The Girls’ Middle School. I like the simple directness of that: The Girl’s Middle School. Truth in advertising. No, “The Susan B. Anthony School for Promoting Harmony and Intellectual Stimulation.” No. Just, Here’s how it is–we have girls. And they are in middle school. The aptly named Girls’ Middle School is presided over by the shy and retiring Walter Mayes. That’s a joke, btw. First of all, Walter is close to seven feet tall. (He could work at Giant Chef!) And he has a voice that I am sure could be heard all the way in Queens. He is also warm and funny and can say, “I hate you” in a way that is thrilling and makes you beg for more. I love Walter. And his sidekick, Esther. The girls of Girls’ Middle School were terrific. They put up with our insanity and didn’t run screaming. Because they are girls, dammit! Girls of Middle School, and they do not scare easily.

We had a brief but lovely visit to the Castilleja School in Palo Alto where we found out about Heath Ledger. To be honest, we mostly talked about Heath because we were all in shock. The girls at Castilleja were so smart and funny and I wish we’d had longer than an hour for our “In the Author’s Studio” James Liptonesque moment with them. But it was fun while it lasted.

Then there was the Menlo Park Library gig. People, they had a HARPIST!!!! They had FANS made! And you could read about the language of fans on the attached tag. How freaking cool is that? (My favorite was opening and closing your fan fast which means, “YOu are cruel.” I thought it meant, “I am indecisive,” but what do I know?) It was such a great time. Shannon and I got to ask each other the burning questions we’ve always had for one another–or at least for the past 72 hours we’ve known each other–such as, “Shannon, what is the source of your eternal fabulousness?” and “Libba, gosh darnit, why are you so dang foxy?” Is good times. We got cool t-shirts at Kepler’s that say FIGHT EVIL–READ BOOKS. I am never taking mine off. Never. Even if people’s eyes water and they say, “God, what is that SMELL?” Not taking it off. There is too much evil in the world and I need to wear my Kepler’s superhero reader shirt.

We also had a radio interview with Liz Saint John at KLCC. (Isn’t that a fabulous name? Liz Saint John. Like an Avengers sort of name. She should always wear boots.) It was a good time. I will blog about that a bit more later on, along with a recap of our FABU night at Not Your Mother’s Book Club, but I gotta get my butt downstairs and to the airport. See you in Seattle!

Mr. Bubbles Kitty says, “Mrwaor!”