One of Many Embarrasing Moments at SCBWI, and a pic of me with Sherman Alexie

Wearing our Bad Reviews on our Shirts...

Here's the pic I wanted to show yesterday of the gals with Sherman Alexie:
(Bree, Sherman Alexie, Emily, me)

We had matching shirts made for the conference (I know, we're geeks) and on the shirts we had printed some of the bad reviews our books had gotten.

Emily's: "Inappropriate"
Bree's: "Blasphemous"
Mine: "Violent"

Sherman Alexie loved our shirts. So next year, I'm making a tee-shirt that says, "Sherman Alexie loved my shirt last year."

On to the Belly Boobs
This is the last time I tease a post like that. You just can't promise readers the glory of "belly boobs" and then think that it's possible to live up to such expectations.

So let me just say, here and now, the two words "belly" and "boobs" are by themselves more interesting than the actual story.

On with the countdown of things I learned at the SCBWI Conference: (Or "countup" is more accurate)

5. There's never really an appropriate time to shout "belly boobs" in public.

Saturday night of the conference was the Blue Moon Ball in the courtyard of the hotel.
(Sydney Salter, Matt Kirby, me, Bree, Emily at the Ball)

There was a shortage of elevators in the hotel, and so the wait to get one was always long, and once it arrived, it may or may not be too full.

Bree and I were waiting for an elevator to take us down to the Ball, and I was explaining to her why I couldn't possibly get away with not wearing a bra.

Below is my recap, in extra slow motion so you can benefit from the timing of it all.

*Brodi and Bree, waiting to see which of the four elevators will ding*

me: "I really can't go anywhere without a bra." (Okay, this was not actually the first thing out of my mouth. I promise it was a continuation of the conversation.)

Bree: "Why not?"
*Elevator Dings*

me: "Because I end up looking like Kathy Lee Gifford."
*Arrow Lights Up*
*It happens to be the elevator in front of Brodi, and toward which she is now facing, two feet away*

Bree: "What's wrong with looking like Kathy Lee Gifford?"

me: "Seriously? I have two words for you." *Doors Open to a packed elevator car, all of whom are staring at Brodi, who is also staring back*

me: "Belly Boobs!"

Awkward silence as we all just stand there, looking at each other. Bree and I can't fit on, and she's across the room anyway, so it's just me still staring.
Doors close.

Bree starts laughing hysterically.

me (turning reluctantly to Bree): "Did I really just shout 'belly boobs' to an elevator full of people?"

Bree: nods, still laughing.

So, their doors opened, and there was this girl, just waiting to say 'belly boobs'. Almost like it was some sort of password to get on the elevator or something.

And why is it that people in an elevator have absolutely no sense of humor? The inside of a packed elevator is more somber than a freakin' funeral home. Nobody even cracked a smile. It was like I had said 'belly boobs' and everyone inside the car was thinking, ah, belly boobs. Yes. Interesting point.

Okay, that was my story. I challenge you to try this in your own hotels, and see if anyone on the elevator has the stones to say something back.

I'll have more from the conference next week. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Back to normal. Because I've discovered something about myself- I simply cannot blog back to back days. I'm all tapped out. The brain fluids need a chance to regroup, and pool.

I'm also off to Colorado tomorrow, and hopefully the place has Wine Frye.

Anyone else doing anything fun this weekend?