One of the first hardcover books I remember truly loving (that wasn’t a children’s classic) was an Erma Bombeck lifted from my mother’s bookshelf. I was about 10 years old when I read the book – yes, I was a very mature child – but there was something about the dry wit in Erma Bombeck’s writing that I just “got”.
I was ten, so it wasn’t that I was necessarily relating to the content, particularly when her mentality towards housework was such was a direct opposite of my mother’s own style; I mean, for a child whose early morning directive was “you can be late for school before you leave without making your bed”, reading
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Needless to say, as a lifelong Erma Bombeck fan, so I’m beyond excited by the fact that in two days I’ll be in Dayton, Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop.
Yes, I’m downright giddy.
To go to OHIO.
(Where I also get to sleep in a King-size bed all by myself, where there won’t be a dog snuffling about at early o’clock hoping someone will get up with her. Bonus!)
I’m headed to the University of Dayton, where Erma herself was given three words that led to an amazing career: “You can write.” I’m going to spend a few days surrounded by fun, funny, clever people, laughing and learning. I’m excited, and incredibly nervous, but mostly excited. (I hope I’m not expected to be funny in person. I’m much funnier in print. Sometimes. Just not now.)
As much as I have enjoyed all the blogging conferences that I have attended, the one aspect that has, in my estimation, always been too lightly treated is writing. This conference is all about humor and human interest writing, getting published and more. I’m sure you will be even happier than I will be if I can learn to
trim my rambling side thoughts improve my editing edit more.
My clothes are picked out (mostly), books and notebooks ready to be packed (of course), along with enough Poise pads to see me through a long weekend of laughter. I’ve taped instructions inside the lid of the washing machine (I bet they are never found) and hidden my stockpile of Girl Scout Tagalongs. I thought about making some meals ahead of time for my family, but I have a strong need to be missed and appreciated, so instead I stocked the freezer with frozen stuff from Trader Joes and the pantry with plenty of Cheerios.
If you can’t make it better, you can laugh at it. Erma Bombeck
If you know me, my blog is really my own personal coping mechanism for dealing with the absurdities and frustrations of parenting and everyday life. I tell my kids that learning to laugh at oneself is a great ability to have. Which is good. Because I do a lot of stupid stuff.
We laugh a lot here.
Laughter is good, mostly.
I wonder if I need to warn any of my new friends that the surest trigger of my asthma attacks is laughing too hard…
Nah, I’m sure it will be ok.