By Marilyn FriedmanIt's hot outside, so let your muse cool off at Writing Pad's ultra-comfortable, hip loft with one of our fantastic classes! We have a lot going on for the month of May. Call 323-333-2954 to sign up before these classes are full.
Events
- The Secret To Getting Your Book Published (Fri. May 13)
- Put Your B Characters on the A-List (Sat., May 14)
- Story Doctor: Read and Critique Session (Sat., May 14)
- Are You @?$&ing Kidding Me? Responding To Script Notes Without Losing Your Mind Or Your Story (Sun.,May 22)
- Writing Pad Playwriting Series: Act I--Family Feuds, Misanthropes, and Love Affairs (Mon. p.m.'s)
- Writing Pad Screenwriting Series: Act I--From Rookie to Rockstar (Tues. p.m.'s)
- So You Want To Be A Writer (Wed. a.m., Wed. p.m., Sat. a.m.'s)
- Finishing School (Wed. a.m., Wed. p.m., Sat. a.m.'s)
- Writing Between The Diapers: Writing For Moms (Wed. a.m., Wed. p.m.'s)
- It’s All About You: A One-Person Show Workshop--4 Wk (Thurs. p.m.'s)
Comment on this blog. Tell us a funny story about your Mom or tell us about the contents of her purse. You could win a free class!
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1 comment:
“Natalie! Go get in the car, I’ll be there in a minute!”
I never understood her logic on most things, but this persistent request always got to me. I was ready in time to leave. It didn’t matter if I got in the car first, she was the one who made us late. To everything.
She always blamed it on things “walking away from her.” Her keys. Her cell phone. That twenty dollar bill that was sitting on the upright piano in the living room. Her coat. Her left shoe. Her brain. No matter how early I went and sat in the passenger seat of her beloved pre-owned Mercedes, it never bought us any extra seconds to get wherever we were going.
My mother always had big purses, even before they were in style in the early 2000s. She’s not a reader, so it’s not like she carries books or People Magazine in there. It’s crap. All paper crap. Receipts from last November. Crumpled cash buried in every crevice of the purse except the cash compartment of her extra-large aqua blue wallet. She has several items that give off her pseudo-occupation. A pink cell phone with a pink butterfly pendent. Mary Kay lipstick. Mary Kay eyeliner. A Mary Kay compact. Yes, my mother is a Mary Kay lady. And that’s all right with me (free swag!) but she carries around this lovely Mary Kay purse hook. You know, the ones you hang from a restaurant table so you don’t have to put your purse on the floor? But her purse is so full of crap, she can never find the damn thing when she needs it! Lord knows, she owns so many organizational items she uses when she can think of them, and when she does, she can’t find them.
I love my mother and I will gladly go out to the car on a cold winter’s day and turn on the car to “warm it up for her.” But if it is the middle of July and she is once again searching for her sheet music or her eyeliner and she asks me to go get in the car, my head my explode into little bits of crumpled cash in every crevice but the cash compartment in her aqua blue wallet.
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