When spending time around strong women you will be told that women apologize too much. We apologize for our wins, for our losses, for our passions and our faux pas, for essentially everything. And the women will tell you we just need to shut the hell up. But I can’t help myself, and for this, I apologize.
Earlier in the year I won the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition for my humorous piece about having The Talk with my son, and last weekend, I attended the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Conference in Dayton, Ohio. It was an incredible weekend, and I learned so much! One thing I learned is just because you are going to a humor writers’ workshop that does not mean everyone there has a sense of humor. I discovered this when a woman I met on the very first night told me she liked my story and thought it was cute. She then asked if I thought the talk with my son was successful. Without missing a beat, I said, “Well he got Covid twice and his kid turns two in March, so you tell me.” She did not laugh. So this apology goes to my son. There’s a woman out there who thinks you had Covid twice.
I’d like to apologize to all the women who used the restroom right before Alan Zweibel’s class. There was a line, a long long line, and when my time finally came, there was still a long long line. I thought I’d pop in and out of the stall no problem, but I think I took the longest pee of my life. I’m so sorry. In the stall, I did quietly scold my urethra, “you’re being rude!” but she did not listen. I may look 25…ish, but my uretha is a stubborn 97-year-old spigot who does not believe in tapping it off. It’s my own fault. I should have been more like Leighann Lord and spent quarantine doing Kegel exercises. Don’t worry though, I’ve been working on them and should be shipshape by Erma 2024.
This next apology is a two-parter, and it goes out to the lovely Laraine Newman. I am so sorry I giggled like a fucking idiot when I met you. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop. I swear my giggles and my tinkles they just ruined me this weekend. But you were very kind and very funny and I hope to God you don’t remember me. You did take the time to take a picture with me…which leads to the second part of this apology. We snapped two quick photos. In the first one, we’re talking and you look engaged and amazing. I look like a slack-jawed Gilbert Grape. In the second photo, I got my shit together. My head is tilted just so, my smile is nice, and there’s a twinkle in my eye that tells the world I had consumed just enough red wine. You, on the other hand, look as if you’re singing a very angry version of Row Row Row Your Boat to a little person. This, I’m sorry, is the photo I am showing to every single person I know. If it makes you feel better, when my mother saw the picture she said, “Is that what you wore?”
I should actually apologize to several speakers. I didn’t initially recognize Lian Dolan, who I’m now a little obsessed with (her and her Satellite Sisters). Then I fan-girled a little too hard when meeting Katrina Kittle and Joni B Cole. I think I hit Beth Broderick in the back of the heard with my bag and at one point blocked Kathy Kinney’s way to the elevators. I shook Teri Rizvi’s hand, which normally would not call for an apology, but in these times I walked away scolding myself, “a handshake, Rachel? Seriously? What is WRONG with you! You could have at least offered her a squeeze of your hand sanitizer!” All these women were very cool, by the way, and for a brief moment made me consider going blond. Had EBWW22 lasted another couple days, it might have happened (and then I’d owe the world an apology).
Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll tell you I am not sorry for deserting my family for 3 days to attend this event. I’m not sorry for leaving my husband with no idea what time to get the kids off to school. I’m not sorry my phone was on DO NOT DISTURB the entire time (except for about 10 minutes in the evening), and I’m not sorry I worked on myself and my writing this weekend. And you can bet your ass I’m not sorry I ate every single bite of that cheesecake. As Erma said, “Just think of all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.”
I’m only sorry I didn’t lick the plate. Maybe next time.
Because BECAUSE is not an answer! 