Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Have Wine Glass, Will Travel

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I was a first-time faculty member at this year’s Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop (EBWW) and I left with a respectable amount of swag: tee shirt, tote bag, and my personal fav, the commemorative wine glass. Let it not be said that the EBWW doesn’t know its audience: Women who write, love wine; and lots of it.  At the Thursday night dinner, the wine glasses had been delicately imprinted with “Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop.” Every woman in the room said to herself or one of her tablemates, “Oh, I am so stealing this.”

Thursday, March 13, 2014

They Called the Cops on the Cat

I’ve never been owned by a cat. I don’t have the courage to have a creature in my house that can outthink me. And now I know, I damn sure don’t want anything that can outfight me either. One of the funniest news stories I’ve heard this year – maybe even this decade – is the one about the 22-lb house cat in Oregon that held his family hostage in their bedroom. That’s funny on its face and even more hysterical when you know the facts.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

I'm Ready for My Close Up

When I got called in for a sitcom audition one of the things my acting coach told me to do was to find the M.A.C. store nearest to my audition and have them do my makeup. No, he was not suggesting that I’m heinous but there’s pretty and then there’s Primetime-TV pretty. Depending on the role it’s either go glam or go home. Actually it’s a weird combination of glam-natural; an effortless beauty that’s not all that easy to pull off in HD.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Gee, Thanks Officer

Okay, let me start by saying that I was wrong. I was wrong because I had pulled over into a bus stop. I didn’t want to but it was the only clear space on the block (on any block) since un-melted mounds of snow take up a lot of room. But I was lost and before I drove any further I wanted to make a phone call to verify the address of where I was going, and get my bearings.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Crazy Bitches Hate Jellybeans

While my aging and ailing Honda Civic is in the shop getting some impromptu but very necessary repairs I had to rent a car. At 30 minutes to closing I took what was left on the lot, which happened to be an adorable, red Fiat 500 Sport. With an aversion to calling things by a number instead of a name – that perhaps hails back to Star Trek Voyager’s character, Seven of Nine – I’ve taken to calling my Fiat 500, Jellybean. With a car this tiny, food shopping at Costco is out. However, from a parking perspective, Jellybean is perfect for New York City. But not everybody is a fan.