I went to Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop desperately seeking my funny. When you’re surrounded by 300+ women writers and a handful of men all of whom are genetically talented, it has the distinct possibility to leave you crying in the bathroom. Forever alone. A girl and her cellphone. And a quite possibly a cocktail. The Erma groupies were more than a little intimidating: books and columns and syndication and by-lines. Comics and screenplays and blogs and