The Angry Girl Makes A Full Circle

Last night I barely slept. I watched The Hunger Games, listened to Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, and I wrote a letter of thanks in purple ink. You would think that, after thinking about it for a while, the letter would have been easy to write, but it wasn't. Deciding how much detail to put in it and how much gratitude can be accurately scribed without looking weird is quite the process. Hell, I even skipped the greeting because I couldn't decide between Ryan, Dear Ryan,or Dear Mr. Hurst.It took me most of the night to do it. It was completely worth it to me. When it was finished I felt like I had said what needed to be said and said thank you the best I could.

I had talked to my best friend from out of state and she said she was worried that it would be left behind before it actually was read. We tried to come up with ways to make the envelope flashy so it would be seen, even in the rush of leaving. My husband suggested writing Mr. Hurst in big letters on it, it was hilarious, but I decided against it. My friend suggested maybe coming up with a logo for the blog and drawing it on there.Eventually, after some pretty funny conversation, I decided on drawing a lotus. Taking 3 brown, recycled cd sleeves with me in the car I drew three lotuses and picked my favorite. Then my locally grown best friend, Hope, laughingly suggested I put @RamboDonkeyKong on it and so I did.

When I woke up it seemed like I had just gone to sleep. Though he wouldn't be signing autographs until   noon, I wanted to get there by ten. Knowing this may be his last stint through the bike shows I didn't know how many people would be there to meet him. Around 10:20 we got in line and there was probably at least twenty people ahead of us. Hope and I stood in line and laughed and joked with the fans around us. It was great. When he came out everyone cheered.

The closer I came to the table the more my heart pounded. I began to completely doubt this. Here I was, at a bike show, toting a fan letter that wasn't really a fan letter. For a minute I wasn't sure I would give it to him. My hands shook at the reality that I probably wouldn't get a second chance at this. How many times in your life can you say that you met someone who set you on the road to completely changing your life?

When I got up to the table I asked he if he would sign the picture I brought with me and he smiled and said yea sure. I slid the picture onto the table and smiled wide. I reached over and gestured toward the picture, "This picture completely changed my life," I slid the letter across to him, "and this letter explains the story behind that." Saying I thought I might puke is the understatement of the century.

Being the person I am I didn't know how seriously he would take it or if he would just be like, "Yea, ok." and pass it off to someone. When he looked at me sincerely and said, "I promise I will read it," I nearly died. That was definitely not what I expected. I had prepared for every possible outcome except him saying he would read it.

When I walked away I found out my husband had stood to the side with his phone and taken pictures of me talking to Ryan Hurst. He showed them to me and I nearly cried, what can I say, I'm an emotional chick sometimes.

The rest of the time I was at Cyclefest I walked around in a daze. I was just trying to digest what had  happened. It was huge. If you can tell someone thank you for something, DO IT. This has been one of the most cathartic things I have ever done. When I realized I was starving because, in an effort not to barf on Mr. Hurst, I had only eaten a bagel all day we left to go eat. We all sat around the table just talking about the whole thing. Right before we left, Hope turned to me and said, "Can you just imagine him getting in whatever car he will be leaving in and pulling out your letter to read it." Well, I can imagine it and I hope, wherever and whenever he does get the time to read it, my honest feelings make it from the page to him. I hope that he reads it and understands how much this has meant to me. 

Angry Girl, Floating