Today was hotness times infinity. My friend Jen and I drove to the Baltimore Book Festival to see Tim Gunn speak and attend his booksigning. The day seemed innocuous enough as we visited display booth after display booth, with jazz music sung by a large woman with plum hair in a matching plum dress as the soundtrack.

We sat down in the Literary Salon about an hour before Tim was to take the stage. We were early enough to hear ABC correspondent Martha Raddatz speak about her book, The Long Road Home, in which she describes a 48-hour period of time in Sadr City, Iraq. She spoke eloquently about the effects of this war on the soldiers and their families, focusing on the emotional rather than the political aspects of battle. Martha Raddatz was an unexpected and fortunate surprise.

Toward the tail end of Martha's speech, the Gunnites began hovering around the tent. Thankfully, we'd procured a decent aisle seat and decided not to attempt anything closer. A wise decision, considering the swarm that followed Raddatz' exit from the stage.

Tim's speech was exactly what I'd expected - engaging, charming, funny, and completely unpretentious. He was genuinely flabbergasted by the number of people who showed up, saying that this was the largest crowd he'd ever spoken before. He talked about the trials and tribulations of writing a book while working as Dean at Parsons, and discussed the book's journey from print to screen, as the impetus for his newest show on Bravo, Tim Gunn's Guide to Style.

Tim shared amusing anecdotes about some television moments that never made the air, including a dressing room exchange between himself and a frustrated client on his new show (he basically told her that if the show wasn't working for her, and she wasn't having any fun, they could just pack up and go home - he can't want her to succeed more than she does!), and another involving a moment on the season 2 reunion show for Project Runway (the curse word heard 'round the world was the start of a revolution - or at least two phone calls - one from mom and one from Bravo's director, offering him the opportunity to create a show based on his unique personality and perspective).

The Q&A that followed Tim's speech gave us some very interesting nuggets, including updates and opinions about some of Runway's past contestants (He used the word "infantilize" at this point, which was thrilling for us. One thing we love about Tim is his exquisite vocabulary.), hints about the upcoming season, and fun trivia tidbits that I'd never known before. Did you know one season of Project Runway is filmed in thirty consecutive days? I didn't! No wonder he said they all needed a hospital gurney around day 25. Tim also shared fashion tips with curious audience members, and he didn't miss a beat when asked for advice on too-short tunics, best ways to dress a boo-tay, and finding petite clothing that's not juvenile.

The audience cheered, and then ran outside to queue up for the booksigning. We stood in line for about an hour and as we approached, I began to shake. I knew that the inevitable was coming. My articulate, composed self was about to be overtaken by my starstruck, blathering self. It was only a matter of time before my Hyde usurped my Jekyll.

Sure enough, it happened. But what resulted made all of my foolish idiocy worthwhile. The conversation that follows is an accurate representation of the exchange I had with Tim Gunn, but as you read it, please know that I was talking a mile a minute, and gesturing wildly throughout.

Tim: Hello! Thank you for coming out today! (looks at sticky note on book cover) Are you Danielle?

Me: Yes, I am.

Tim: (begins signing book)

Me: I have to tell you. I bought your book because I am such a huge Project Runway fan, but I never expected it to inspire a fashion awakening in me. (Yes, I really did say this.) So I want to thank you for this.

Tim: ( looks up at me)

Me: See, I hate to shop. I hate shopping for clothes. For as long as I can remember, I've shopped like this: find one thing that looks decent on me and buy it in every single color available. But then I read your book and you made it seem so easy with the ten essential items every woman should own.

Now pay attention, because here comes the good part.

Me: So I've set a goal for myself. I'm turning 38 in January and before that happens, I want to use your list to create a new, grown up wardrobe for myself.

Tim: (looks up again, this time over the frames of his glasses, at me) What? No! You are not turning 38!

Me: (flipping my hair and acting like a total idiot) Yes, yes I am!

Tim: (hand to chest) I can't believe it! What are you doing?

Me: Uh, not having children?

Tim: What are you doing? Are you bathing in blood every night? ( laughs)

Me: ( after the most fabulous comment in the world goes right over my head) It's my Sicilian grandmother's genes...

Tim: Well, Danielle, if you start with the ten essentials, you will build the foundation for a wardrobe that will last a very long time!

I don't remember anything he said after this, I was so completely in awe that Tim Gunn said I didn't look my age, everything else is a blur. I just remember leaning in for a picture, and shaking Tim's hand as he thanked us again for coming out to see him. I took my book and camera and walked away while Tim snapped a photo with Jen.

Thank god Jen was with me today, because she was able to decipher my inarticulate mumbo-jumbo.

Jen: OH MY GOD! TIM GUNN ASKED IF YOU BATHE IN BLOOD EVERY NIGHT! THAT IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!

Me: What? He did? Oh my god, what did he say?!

Jen: You told him how old you are and he asked if you bathe in blood! I bet no one else can say Tim Gunn has asked them if they bathe in blood! I bet you're the only one!

Me: Hahahahaha! Do you think?

This is where Jen exudes awesomeness that cannot possibly be measured or explained...

Jen: Yeah! As soon as he said that to you, I was like, that's a Bathory reference?

Me: (fascinated and intrigued ) What's that?!

Jen: Elizabeth Bathory was this Hungarian princess. The legend is that one day she was angry and bitch-slapped one of her maids-in-waiting so hard that she drew blood. The blood landed on her face, and when she looked at herself, she thought she looked younger. So from that day on she began summoning her servants to collect the blood from young girls for her blood baths.

Me: Oh my god! I love that you know this story! You are a walking encyclopedia of cool knowledge! AHAHAHAHA! Tim Gunn asked me if I bathed in blood! AHAHAHAHA!

Jen: AHAHAHAHAHA! Tim Gunn asked you if you bathed in blood! AHAHAHAHAHA!

For the rest of the night, Jen and I repeated Tim's question to me about fifty million times. And we had plenty of time to do this, because on the way back from Baltimore, I ran over something in the road, which caused my rear passenger tire to explode and reduce to a pile of dust.

We sat on the shoulder of I-95 waiting for roadside service. First, the Maryland Transportation Authority and a state trooper came by and tried to help us. We discovered at this time that my car has anti-theft tires which means there's some special little tool required to remove the wheel. Called VW Roadside. That guy came out. No special little tool. We searched the car, to no avail. Our tender adventure became the adventure of a lifetime when Jake, the tow-truck guy, came to our rescue.

Jake was awesome. He put the car on his light-duty flatbed and let us ride up front with him back to the VW dealership in Virginia, where Tony was picking us up. Before we left, he asked me if I had the tools to change the tire, because he could take care of it before we left for the 45-mile drive. I assured him we had searched the car several times, and there were no special anti-theft tire-changing tools to be found. (ahem)

For the next forty minutes, Jake entertained us with stories about his wife, daughters, and grandson, as well as some of his more memorable moments as a tow-truck driving accomplice in undercover police stings. He talked and he talked and he talked and we bounced on the seat next to him, laughing when he mentioned how fast the ride went with such good conversation to pass the time. We pulled into the dealership parking lot.

Tony opened the trunk and within five seconds, procured the very tools that would have allowed the tire to be fixed more than two hours before. I tried to pass the blame off on the two roadside assistance dudes who searched the car with me, but Jake wasn't buying it, and kept shooting me knowing looks. He stuck around to change my tire, even though he didn't have to, and in spite of the fact that his wife waiting at home, keeping his supper warm.

We gave Jake a wad of cash to thank him for his trouble, and it's a good thing, because this is what we heard on his walkie-talkie cell as we pulled away:

Wife: Where you at?
Jake: Virginia.
Wife: WHERE?
Jake: Virginia.
Wife: Well, we got an issue here.
Jake: Yeah? What?
Wife: SLIM CALLED, AND HE WANTS HIS MONEY NOW!

OMG. Who was Slim and what did Jake owe him money for? We didn't wait around to find out. We gave a final wave of thanks to our hero, and headed out into the night.

After all, I needed to get home before my blood bath got cold.