Got back from Orlando VERY early this morning. On Friday I was having dinner with fellow speakers and SCBWIers when my cell phone went . . . Brrrrrrg. Brrrrrg.

(My phone ring cleverly mimics a phone ringing. This always freaks people out since most cell phones play music.)

"Yes?"
"Hey Mom . . . blah, blah, bunny, blah . . ."
"Teen," I said. "I'm in Florida."
"What??? You're in Florida?" (We live in California.)
"Yes, we talked about this remember?"
"You're in Florida????"
"Yes."
"Okay, then never mind."

Click.

She asked Hubby about adopting the deaf bunny instead, but he said no.

Florida was great except for Alberto. (More on him later.) My humor workshop was a blast and we all wrote and laughed and wrote and laughed. Well, they wrote and laughed and wrote and laughed. Me, on the other hand, talked and laughed and talked and laughed. (Hi everyone!)

Also got to meet some blog buddies in Orlando. Hi Mindy! Hi Dorian! And old friends, too. Hi Amy! Hi Robin! Hi Brad!

Speaking of mustaches, here's what I look like with one . . . (It took 20 hours to get from the hotel to my house and I'm TOTALLY jet lagged, so my transitions are lacking.) I'm on page three.

Speaking of books, here's an early prediction for the Blueberry (as son calls it) Award -- YELLOW STAR by Jennifer Roy, the incredibly talented twin sister of the incredibly talented author, my pal, Julia DeVillers. Such a beautiful, powerful, haunting and uplifting book.

Speaking of Alberto. I don't like him.

Alberto is the hurricane wannabe who stymied all the airplanes. Causing me to miss two flights. And not just me. Little Richard, too. Yes, Little Richard and I shared a plane. It's like I'm a celebrity magnet. Sort of. When I flew back from Texas last month-ish, Sam Donaldson and Liam Neilson (did I spell that right?) were on the plane with me. Of course, we were seated NOWHERE near each other since they were in first class and I was strapped to the wing.

When I was in college I worked at Neiman Marcus in Beverly Hills. It was EXACTLY like Shopgirl, with me in the Clarie Danes role. Execpt that no millionaire ever asked me out. And I didn't work in the glove department. I worked in stationery. But I did wait on Bob Dylan, Brooke Shields, Sally Kellerman, Angie Dickenson, et al. We were told, "NEVER ask a celebrity for their ID. They get insulted if you do."

And speaking of freaking out. Back to the final draft of EMILY EBERS. I promised Cheryl I'd get it to her Wednesday or Thursday or Friday. I'm aiming for Thursday. Wish me luck!!!