July 24, 2006, The Drama bookshop in Manhattan, 8:30 p.m. Here’s the link for more info. http://writersworking.blogspot.com/
I think there’s nothing like the fear of looking like an *ss in public to whip your stories in shape. Oh, and someone else at my office asked me I was pregnant on Friday. AWESOME.
This is not new advice. We’ve all heard it and follow it, unless you work in my office. I’ve been asked by three people at work “Are you pregnant?” “No, I’m not pregnant. I’m just fat.” “Is there something you’re not telling me?” “Am I sure? I sit at a desk for nine hours a day, stuffing myself with pastries leftover from meetings that lie around the office in order to quell my anxiety and boredom.” “Are you sure?” People, as one of my peers says, don’t ask a woman that question unless she’s on the ground, flat on her back, actually in throes of a contraction in front of you.
Is there a reason why people are asking me this? Is this to build my character? It’s not like I secretly think I’m a supermodel. And wouldn’t I know if I were pregnant? Don’t you get the willies or something? But then again, with my spacey mental state, maybe I am pregnant and don’t know it.
I’m learning through the kindness of my cousin Ed to put together a web site that will stop my family bursting out into laughter when they come visit. Wish me luck.