Muumuu House + St. Mark’s Bookshop ***Warning: This is IRL! ***

                Oh my golly it happened. Guys you had to be there. Would I have hugged you in real life? Knowing me I probably would have. I would have prefaced it by saying ‘no flash photography’ then added the additional phrase ‘no photography period’. Yeah, I sat stoked as heck with all the cool people surrounding me. I slowly climbed into the highest tree. It took remarkably little time only a half hour. Muumuu House boosted me to greater shelves. 

                Tao Lin stood at attention ready to present the fuck out of his impressive publishing house. For the reading Tao Lin read some of his better ‘META’ tweets. If you don’t follow Tao Lin on twitter, then what are you doing even reading this? Like seriously, follow Tao Lin. He is the embodiment of all that is chill. I think he recorded the reading, though I could be wrong. I may be right though. I hope I’m right. It was a magical, mystical night where anything was possible.

                Marie Calloway broke out of the internet she’d been living in to show herself IRL. Yep, I was excited. Here I stood just an awkward blogging sloth from Fargo, North Dakota, with three baby sloths at home. I got hugged by Marie IRL. Boy, I was as happy as a clam, if a clam was a sloth. New York, New York, for a brief period of time became ‘Mew York, Mew York’ as Marie read some of her now famous piece ‘Adrien Brody’. She had the audience at the edge of their seats, or at least for the people who had seats (the place was packed). Glad I got to meet Marie. I feel much more relevant now. 

                Spencer Madsen came up next with some zany assery. He got up there and rocked the mike in a literal sense. Every time I see Spencer Madsen he’s a little bit better than the last time. Constantly improving, I feel if Spencer writes another book he’s going to knock my damn socks off. I laughed quite a bit at the material, despite having read it many, many times. There’s something about Madsen’s comedic timing that is so satisfying. 

                Giancarlo DiTrapano is really, really funny. The tweets he read (keeping in theme with the night) were crazed and insane. I follow him on twitter. After tonight, I’ll be following him a lot more closely. He’s a seriously nice guy and I enjoyed his reading style. It was honest, sincere, and rather deadpan. Wish I knew more about him. I will search him out a little more thoroughly after this. Spoiler: read the Santa tweet. 

                Brandon Scott Gorrell (not sure why he uses the middle name) appeared behind a structural pole. To me Brandon looked like a cat that just woke up. I mean that in the most endearing way possible. For Brandon’s section he read from his daily guide ‘Thought Catalog’. ‘Thought Catalog’ deals with the epistemology of the hipster in delightful bite sized pieces. I’ve written there. Hopefully I can write there again. Brandon is a good man. Also I kind of want Brandon’s glasses.

                 Megan Boyle ended the night with such joy. I don’t think I’m destined to ever meet Megan Boyle. I think one day I’ll be on the train and she’ll be looking right at me. She won’t introduce herself to me because I’m anonymous. In a perfect world we’d chill and she’d buy me booze. But alas, we do not live in a perfect world. Everybody loved Megan Boyle. Not loving Megan Boyle is like not loving fuzzy newborn kittens. It is an impossible task. 

                I left knowing my anonymity was still intact. Maybe someday I’ll reveal myself. Maybe someday I’ll have great readings where people ask me weird questions about my diet. Maybe someday I’ll get around to writing a book that will change two people’s lives. With this crazy blogging life I live it might just be possible. We’ll see.