It’s Tuesday. My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and I feel a little bit nauseous. Did I just finish Tuesday cardio? Nope. I’m thinking about Outlander in the City. In a mere five nights I’ll be rubbing shoulders (literally?) with the stars of Outlander and 300 other people in New York City and I am petrified. Before I go any further let’s get some things straight. I am not a fangirl. I am not a television geek. I am not a book geek. I don’t get starstruck. Several years ago, I signed up as an extra for the filming of Ides of March because it was being shot mere feet from my office. I then sat calm, cool, and collected as George Clooney walked past me (within touching distance) repeatedly over the course of several hours. It was an amazing experience but I wasn’t geeking out over it.
And, yet, here I sit wondering how the evening will play out. Will I engage with these folks that I’ve seen on the screen or will I find a comfy spot, sip whisky, and operate in my default “people watching” mode? Will they want to engage given their busy schedules and multiple recent appearances? Will they look at me the way I sometimes look at people when they walk in my office? Yes, I know I need to control my face but I’m 42 and it feels like water under the bridge at this point. How many selfies can they really endure?
At this point the anxiety voices that live in my head are plaguing me with their incessant chatter. Why are you even doing this? This is silly! It’s not too late to cancel. Someone would LOVE to have your ticket. Guess what assholes? I’m doing it and I am determined to have a brilliant time. Whether I show up as a people-watcher or a mingler I already know that this is a night that I will remember for a very long time.
Want to tag along? I’ll do my best to tweet pics and updates and (maybe) some selfies with my favorite smokin’ hot Highlanders. You can follow me on Twitter @nikkigastineau.
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