In the Beginning (Part 2)
So last time we left off with me taking that full-on step into creepy fiction character life coaching stalkerdom. (See full story)
So I sent Diane Gaidry a very wandery e-mail saying something like, “I just saw Loving Annabelle
seven times and really enjoyed it. I see now you’re life coaching in Buffalo and thought that sounded hippish intriguing. I am an author, a very famous and credible one. and it sounds like you’ve got a some interesting methods for revealing a person’s true character. I’d be really interested in learning more.” Then I added something to the effect that I wasn’t really sure what I was after, but it just seemed worth looking into. (I was certain that was enough to tip her off to my creepy stalkerness.)
Then I sent it.
Then I regretted it.
Then she wrote back, telling me a little bit about what a coach does and offered to do a sample session with me – in person.
Well, I was immediately wracked with guilt. Maybe I hadn’t been clear enough, maybe I hadn’t oozed the amount of crazy I thought I had. Surely if she knew I meant to use her hard work and expertise to life coach a fictional priest, she would have said thanks, but no thanks and started filling out the restraining order.
Despite Georgia’s advice to just go with it, I am a sweet Midwestern boi who could never really stalk someone under false pretenses. The least I could do was be totally honest with her. So I wrote back and said, “I’m not really sure I’m looking for a life coach. I’m mostly looking for a new way to approach characters. I’m actually a very fullfilled
albeit crazy person and I know you’re trying to get a business off the ground, so if you’d rather not spend your valuable time on a creepy stalker someone who isn’t likely to be a client, I would totally understand.”
That did it. Honesty abounds. Not really looking for a coach, value her time, respect her as a person, assert my own sanity. Back in control. Until she wrote back and said (pretty direct quote here). “I trust that there are no coincidences and there is a reason that you contacted me and that there is something to be gained for both of us in having a sample coaching session.”
*Squeee. Faint. Thud.*
Done and done. I’m a sucker for things like that. Plus all creepy stalker worries evaporate ’cause this meeting is like our destiny, some pre-ordained plan or something magnificent like that. I am totally awesome and together and not creepy. We are meant to meet and share our awesomeness with each other. Georgia says, “I told you so.” I say all sorts of bad luck things like “Everything is going so well. Life is on track. Destined for greatness. ”
Then two days before going to Buffalo I have the worst… day… ever. Jackson’s crib is recalled for safety reasons and we have to drop everything to go get a new one. While in Buffalo I get backed into, and the woman who hits my driver’s side door with the back of her car tells the police officer it was clearly my fault (yes ma’am I drove my car sideways into your bumper) and starts a massive insurance battle. On the interstate on the way home Jackson starts to vomit all over himself, our banged up car, and anything else within a three-foot radius. I have to climb out my window (the banged up door won’t open) to get to him and strip us both down to our underclothes, then climb back through the window and drive home, without the crib, which was on back-order. Then when I got home I had my first ever rejection notice waiting for me about the book I’d spent the last 8 months writing. Worst. Day. Ever.
Diane e-mailed later that evening to confirm our meeting and reaffirm that there must be some good reason we were drawn together. I knew she was right. That reason was clearly my impending nervous breakdown.
It also occurs to me that now might be a good time to discuss things with my wife. I had up until this point mentioned that I’d contacted Diane at Georgia’s urging, to which Susie responded without looking up “You’re crazy, and Georgia’s a bad influence.” Then I mentioned I might go up to do a sample session. To which Susie says casually, “You’re such a creepy stalker.” 9 years together has desensitize her to my absurdities, and she’s no longer surprised by the depth of my craziness. So after the worst day ever I incoherently babble, “Diane says there are no coincidences and we are meant to meet for a reason, so I think I might need to be life coached and I’m going to go up there tomorrow.” At that she finally put down her knitting and leveled her “you have got to be kidding me” gaze on me.
“This woman is not on your marital amnesty list,” she says coolly.
Me giggling nervously. “Well, no, I mean but Amelie Mauresmo has retired, so I was thinking about replacing her…”
Susie repeats calmly, “This woman is not on your marital amnesty list.”
“Right, right, got it. But other than that we’re good with me being a creepy stalker, maybe needing help with my writing, or maybe needing to be life coached.”
Susie, “You know I support you in whatever, go have fun…leave the checkbook at home.”
“Me, good call. Credit cards too?”
Susie going back to her knitting, “Absolutely.”
That’s my girl, always the realistic one who knows that while I am sweet and well meaning, I am not to be trusted with women or money.
So with the ground rules firmly established and my life starting to fray at the ends, I headed off to Buffalo for some yet undetermined reason fate and Georgia Beers had concocted for me to meet Diane Gaidry.
To be continued…