I had a blind-date/meeting with an editor last night. We had planned to have a drink and discuss the possibility of me doing a non-fiction book. This had sounded fairly basic at the time mostly because I neglected to take into account how nervous I would be about losing my blog anonymity virginity.

In actuality, things began to go wrong a full 24 hours in advance. At my company's good-bye party I almost cried when I hugged my boss, did tequila shots (who does tequila shots?!), literally held the hair back for another colleague who was vomiting into a trash can, and eventually left my good-bye party without saying good-bye, instead just kind of drunkenly ambling out the door and into a cab.

I woke up the day of the meeting with a massive hangover and a puffy face, completely terrified about introducing myself as CB. I needed to do my internet alter ego justice. How was I supposed to be witty when I could barely move off the couch?

Possibly still drunk, I decided with absolute certainty that getting a haircut would solve everything. (Weirdly, this is a decision I have made before. I am like one of those women who get drastic haircuts when going through a break-up but unfortunately, I need only minor set-backs to induce me to chop off all my hair. Inevitably, I wind up looking terrible and repeating an inner chant of "Long hair is good. Remember this.")

So at 6pm yesterday, I—hungover, puffy, with bad hair that was making me more nervous than I already had been—met the lovely editor.

I tried to hide it all—my nerves (and hangover) with a drink, my hair with a clip—but finally I leaned forward and said “I have to ask—you’re the first person I’ve ever met that only knows me through my blog. Am I anything like what you expected?”

She squirmed a little. “Umm…I don’t know….I hadn’t really expected anything in my mind, really…but…”

I nodded encouragingly.

“Well, you know,” she continued “I guess my friends were like ‘Do you think she’ll be as hot as she says she is’?”

“But I never even describe myself!” I protested. This was bad. I hadn’t even put on mascara.

“Well, there’s just something about the way you write that makes people think you’re going to be really gorgeous.”

Then there was a pause--possibly the most awkward pause I have ever experienced.

“I mean, I don’t know, you’re very nice looking…” she offered, giggling a little.

Oh boy.

All in all, the editor was very sweet and encouraging and it seemed like we might have had alot of fun together had I not been so nervous and strange. But I am never meeting anyone that knows me only through my blog again. I really can’t take the pressure.