When you are to meet Joy the Baker, you go shopping and buy cute skirts.
You find an adorable ring that must've been made just for her, and wrap it pretty! Pink bows!
You drive with your nice mommy for three hours.
You go through a beautiful Chicago suburb.
As you park, you see a little shop across the street, probably named after you.
You fawn over blossoming trees. Spring is loved.
You sit, and sit and sit and sit. Twiddling your thumbs and smiling with loads of anticipation.
You gradually move forward, kinda sorta freaking out a lot.
Your moment comes! You're so grateful for the moments you get with this lady, and you're trying not to get all weird and teary. Let's not be one of those crazy fans. Keep it cool.
You keep it cool, and hugging her ferreals is possibly one of the best things that's happened to you.
You walk out, your head trying to wrap around the fact that this lady is real. That you just met, that she kinda sorta remembered you from twitter and emails, that it all actually just happened.
She is the coolest. You'd totally drink wine with her and make doughnuts if you could. You're ridiculously happy, and slightly famished.
You stuff yourself, and read the little novel she wrote you over and over, talking of little else the whole three hours home.