Erma Bombeck speaks to me, and apparently thousands of others. Who knew?

I had a friend and mentor tell me one day - after reading this very hilarious blog - that I was a modern-day Erma Bombeck. And who the compliment came from was overwhelming. He doesn't just hand out comments like that every day. But let's not insult Mrs. Bombeck like that. And thank you.

I'd heard of Erma Bombeck before, but when my journalism instructor started talking about her one day in a class, I was freaking out. How did my grumpy old professor know my mom's old friend? The only recollection I have of Erma Bombeck was that she was some friend my mom and her other friends always giggled, sometimes hysterically, and talked about. She was some type of mommy-relief reference for getting through life, a golden mommy secret. Kinda like the vodka and the good chocolate stash tucked away throughout our house kept sacred and away from us kids.

That's my memory of Erma Bombeck. I read a few of her books after college, and returned to them a few years ago. But I had to put the books down. Dear God, this woman is explaining my life as a mom! I was petrified I would hack her greatness because I sure was living and laughing it outloud. For fear of hacking, I put the book down and then wondered if she'd been nominated for sainthood yet.

Somewhere in web browswery-land, I searched Erma Bombeck and discovered the Erma Bombeck Writer's Conference. I assumed I was not of any caliber to attend such an event, but still bookmarked it. And 5 years later, I promised myself, and my kids, I'd get off my duff, try to at the very least act like a writer and then maybe I'd become one, and I signed up for the conference.

So, this weekend, I packed up, and left for Dayton, Ohio. A crazy bonus, I met my pal Melisa. Melisa and I were close friends in Jr. High, and even shared a notebook. It must have been the start of our writing career. And though we went down separate paths in High School, mine of shallowness and oppressing memories, by the powers of Facebook, have re-connected. We promised each other we'd one day go to this conference. And so we did. I drove East. Catching up with Mel was like we'd never missed a moment after 15 years. Fine, 18 years. Whatever.

Here's the highlights of the conference.
- I got up and did stand-up at the open mic night on the last night. I didn't really want to do it, I grew more nervous and I was just about to bail when Melisa was all, "I can't wait to see you go up." Dangit. So, I went up and had a blast. That was fun. And Melisa was right to make me do it.

- I got lots of tips on how to wow you with this super blog of mine. There might be some changes.I mean, it's pretty great already, I know. But perhaps a few enhancements are in order. My webserver design pal is concerned with my new proactive demands.

- I heard Mo Rocca took a picture with this girl at my table. Because she came back to our table and was all, "OMG - I just got a picture with Mo Rocca!" Ricardo and I love Mo Rocca. So, I decided to seize the opportunity and be that fan, and ask for a picture. I thought I should be real different and totally funny and stand out and all and I'm not known for thinking on my feet when talking to celebrities because well, I'm not well known for long conversations with celebrities. And this might be why. I just blurted out real funny-like, "Hey Mo, can I get a picture with you? My husband thinks you're HOT!" That's funny right? He didn't think so. Perhaps he thinks that I think he's gay, and if so, that's still weird because of my reference to my husband... Weird. Still, we took the picture. And then he kept his distance the rest of the night. When I returned back to the table I realized I'd just eaten garlicky au gratin potatoes and then approached this poor man and said right in his face, "My husband thinks your HHHHHHHOT."

Perhaps his look in this picture is what he looks like when trying to not pass out. I don't know. So, Mr. Rocca, I'm very sorry about that. Call me! Heh. Heh. Heh.

- I wanted to get a picture with Bill Scheft as well. And Gail Collins, W. Bruce Cameron, Nettie Hartstock and Karen Walrond. But after that whole Mo Rocca moment, I decided to not stand out and send thank you letters later. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. I wanted to grab a photo though because they were so darned helpful. Not because my husband things they are hot. Although, maybe, I dunno. Mo Rocca really took one for the celebrity team on that one, y'all.

- Typically, comedians and writers are a wee bit narcissistic and slightly self-absorbed. So, I was nervous that my lack of confidence in my writing skills might overshadow more than my height coupled with my birthing hips. These humor writers, it turns out were nothing but selfless. The entire conference - attendees, speakers, workers - everyone was helpful and supportive. Just incredible. And there might have been one out-of-place and completely un-earned inflated-ego there. I referred to him as the conference diva.

- I'm a writer. I never considered that until Bill Scheft and Gail Collins told me I was. It's good to know. Whew!

When I got home, Lucy puckered up and gave me a huge kiss and said, "Well, did you write your book!?"

Oh good, a 12-hour self-therapeutic drive back to my babies and I get to disappoint you so soon!

"Um, not yet baby."

"Then WHAT did you DO for four days?"

"I got lots of good information on how to write."

"Oh." Satisfied with that answer, she ran off.

About then, Max walks up and gives me a cool dude hug and then exploding with pride and like he's just remember something very very very important, he says, "Hey Mom, look, I've been practicing for you!" He proceeded to stick his arm under his shirt in his opposite armpit and start cranking arm pit fart sounds.

"Oh wow, Max, looks like you've been working so hard on that. You've gotten really good at it. Good job, Baby."

And I knew, Erma must have giggled at supporting fart sounds at some point in her life. And then it was worthy of writing down.

That's how I roll.
Song of the Day: Somewhere Over the Rainbow Mix by "Iz" Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole