On the morning of 9-11-01 I was very excited, because I had my first illustration come out in the New York Times. It was a spot illo for a letter to the editor about education. So I hurried over to the news stand to get my copies of the paper, when I heard people freaking out on the street... the first plane had just hit. So I went home, and turned on the tv and radio, and listened in horror. The crazy thing is I had a weekly strip due that afternoon for Seattle's The Stranger, and so the rest of the day, with the TV on, I drew my stupid Little Laurie Sprinkles strip as the world changed forever in the background.
I’m going to SPX this weekend. I think. My husband wants to go. My parents live in Bethesda. But there’s nothing worse feeling than going to a convention when you don’t have anything new except for a kid (who is already two years old). And then you go back to your parents who say, "It's okay honey! You're our favorite cartoonist (except for Richard Thompson)!" I went last year and made this drawing afterward.
I also hate Bethesda.