Wait For It...

There are many reasons why today is the greatest day ever.

My younger brother and his girlfriend are here to visit for the weekend, which is awesome. Tonight I had crème brûlée and homemade cinnamon ice cream for dessert (thanks to the lovely Penelope and Kate). Also awesome. We had a picture perfect day to tour Philadelphia. Awesome. So yes, all in all, there was lots of awesomeness. HOWEVER, what really tipped the glass of awesomeness, was the fact that I met Neil Patrick Harris at the Liberty Bell.

Let me repeat that for you: Y'ALL. Today I met NEIL PATRICK HARRIS. AT THE LIBERTY BELL (sidenote: if you have seen the first season of How I Met Your Mother, the fact that I saw NPH at the LIBERTY BELL should really resonate and make this encounter all the more magical. If you have not seen the first season of How I Met Your Mother, then get thee to a movie store. Or a Netflix webpage. Or a library. Whatevs. Just get on it. You will not be sorry, I promise.). At any rate, if I have not already made it clear (ha!), Preston and I are HUGE HIMYM fans. Such huge fans that I feel totally fine calling it HIMYM instead of typing out How I Met Your Mother. Anyways. Preston and I rediscovered this gem of a sitcom last summer, and I'm pretty sure that owning the first three seasons on DVD contributed to the fact that I survived this first year of graduate school. When I'd had a bad day, or was panicking before bed, I would ask Preston to put HIMYM on, and that way, undoubtedly, I would go to bed having laughed instead of having cried. It never fails to make me happy. When I realized that my fellow graduate students also needed to laugh a lot more than they were (thanks for nothing, grad school), I started lending out HIMYM season by season, and soon, we had started a mini DVD trading ring among the Bryn Mawr Classicists. Also, Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog (in which NPH stars) is probably the best thing ever (watch it on iTunes for free; the website is here).

***

So flash forward to today. Preston, Jeffrey, Rachel and I had gotten a later start than we'd intended, but we had finally made it into the city, and hurrah! To the Liberty Bell. As we are getting closer to the bell at the end of the tour, Preston taps me on the shoulder, points at a man in a gray shirt, and says, "Hey, doesn't that look like..." I looked around and all of a sudden realized that HOLY GOODNESS NEIL PATRICK HARRIS IS TWO FEET AWAY FROM ME. EXCLAMATION POINT! EXCLAMATION POINT! EXCLAMATION POINT! I fumbled to get my camera open, took a quick picture before his boyfriend/partner saw me stalking NPH (oops). (also, from my 90 second encounter with them, he and his boyfriend: super cute, super normal, super I LOVE THEM). Anyways, within a few seconds, it became clear that he and his boyfriend were on their way out of the exhibition. At this point, I decided that this was my one chance to be a crazyperson fan and tell Neil Patrick Harris how happy his work makes me and HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM. Also, mad adrenaline. MAD adrenaline.

So I walked over to Neil Patrick Harris (NEIL PATRICK HARRIS!!!), and turned into a complete sixteen year old. I tapped him on the arm, said hello, told him that I really loved his work, that we had watched Dr. Horrible the night before (true story) and that my husband and I were huge HIMYM fans. He smiled and said, "Thank you so much! I'm Neil." He extended his hand, and, blushing brilliantly, I shook it and said "I'm Mary Frances!!!!!!!!" with my voice probably ten octaves higher than usual. I then informed him that we had started a How I Met Your Mother DVD trading ring among the Bryn Mawr grad students, and that now, we were all hooked on the show. "That's awesome!" he said, smiling the whole time. At that point, I thanked him, said goodbye, and he and his boyfriend left the exhibit. And then I walked back over to Pres, Jeffrey, and Rachel, and did a little dance. In front of the Liberty Bell. I continued to dance at regular intervals throughout the day (we have photographic evidence). Because, you guys, I MET NEIL PATRICK HARRIS. AT THE LIBERTY BELL.

I mean, really. If that's not legendary, then I just don't know what is.