April 8, 2007

I've been Nibbied!

And it was only after countless emails back and forth to Harper Collins UK, a whirlwind 48-hour trip to London, and a bumbling, partially incoherent acceptance speech that I worked up the nerve to ask why the British Book Awards are called "Nibbies." Turns out the award statues are shaped like pen nibs—a detail I completely missed, thinking only that the bronze block with a dagger-like point would never make it past airport security.

The ultra-posh ceremony included a thousand-person seated dinner at the Dorchester Hotel and enough papparazzi to make you think (just for a second, but still!) that books are, like, totally chic. It was a magical night, and as I sat between two gorgeous and charming men (boyfriend Mike on one side and Gordon Ramsay on the other), I tried not to freak about turning thirty. Oh yes, the Nibbies and my 30th birthday were all wedged into a single day!

Blessedly, at this milestone, I have so much support from all of you. As one kind reader wrote: "According to my calculations, you're thirty today. Christ, that's old."

Then there was: "Happy 30th birthday, Lauren!!! Your older than my cousin Kim and she is much much much older then me."

And my favorite (from a self-proclaimed 39 year-old): "Welcome to our decade."

Thanks, guys. You're the best. More to come when/if I recover.