Sep 16, 2006

"ANGEL, ANGEL WE GO DOWN TOGETHER"

The literary sex panel begins in an hour, and I have just spent the last hour talking to the friendly hotel dining room staff, as we were evacuated to the lobby level under threat of tornado. Crisis averted. Actually, I snuck back up to my room when the staff didn't seem too worried. I understand the hotel has to cover their ass but making these announcements and decisions and such, but I need to finish getting ready. Sex panel, here I come. (Ew, I didn't mean it like that.)

The comedy panel went wonderfully! It made me miss improv a little--- I guess I was just "on", as I got some good laughs. Well, I was in excellent company, maybe we fed off each other...?

Anyone heard from my dear publisher? I think he fell off the earth. Let's hope not. Oy.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Naughty history test, that all of you should be able to pass ;-)
www.naughtyamericahistory.com

Adam Shprintzen said...

They totally stole my American history teaching methodologies...

Charlene Ann Baumbich said...

Of COURSE we fed off each other, darling, and we were FASCINATING, not to mention hysterical and deeply profound.

RE the tornado sirens, while you were safely huddled in the basement of your hotel, I was in the BLUEBARN Theatre (http://bluebarn.org/index1.html). 'Twas intermission. A woman working the theatre that evening came through and announced that the tornado sirens were ringing (unheard in the bowels of the theatre) but that the tornado "was moving away." (WHAT tornado? And WHO says it's moving away?) I was talking to my husband on my cell, explaining it was intermission and that the tornado sirens were ringing and that they were dimming the lights for Act II. I whimpered a quick goodbye, uttered a bazooka prayer and held my breath in the darkness, wondering if The Pillowman (what a PLAY!) was on his way to snuff out MY breath-breathing light. Thankfully, Dear Amy, we both lived to tell about it.