What will come to be known as the best day of my life.

You thought I was going to say The Wedding day, didn't you? Silly, you.

(OK, really, it WILL be known as the best day of my life, but for now, work with me).

Remember when I said I get to see Jodi Picoult, and get an autographed copy of her new book in March? (Wheee!) I oh-so-regrettably forgot to mention why such an opportunity was brought to my attention.


Other Erin. It was all her. She deserves 132 percent of any and all credit for providing this opportunity to me. Since I clearly will not be able to take care of my own child one day, because I will be busy reading The Memory of Running, she is entitled to my firstborn child. (Also, I'm pretty positive I've given away my firstborn child to, like, 17 people by now. Whoops. Spread the love).

So, to Other Erin, in all of her glory and photogenic-ness, her McDream-tastic husband and my firstborn child, whom she will be responsible for, THANK YOU so much for making all of my wildest dreams come true and accompanying me to such a fantastic event. Even though your Christmas card never arrived because the United States Postal Service hates me, even though I've never met you in my life, and even though your wedding kicked the crap out of mine, we are destined to be soul mates for all time. Thanks to you. And Jodi Picoult. And our destined March 15 meeting.


No, really. Amen.

(My name is Krista, and I have approved this message. But what I did not tell you is that Other Erin bullied me into it. I am weak. I give in to bullying. And if you look at me sideways, I'll cry. But other than that, Other Erin rocks).