In her zany, poignant memoir, Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress, Susan Jane Gilman, 40, recalls her true-life misadventures. We caught up with the self-professed drama queen.
You grew up in Manhattan but now reside in Washington, D.C.
Living in New York is like having somebody’s hands down your pants all the time. On one hand, you can’t believe your good fortune, but at some point you get so hyperstimulated you’re no longer functional. D.C. is sort of sleepy, so if you have to spend weeks sitting in your chair writing, you don’t feel like you’re missing anything.
How has your family responded to the book?
You mean besides the class-action lawsuit? [Laughs] My in-laws have yet to have the whole thrill of my confession unfurled before them. My mother was relieved — she felt I could’ve written a lot worse
Were there any over-the-top moments that didn’t make it into the book?
Um…I once had phone sex with the wrong person.
I was in grad school, and the guy who I thought was my on-again, off-again nutsy boyfriend called me up. ”Oh, baby, I miss you so much.” …I talked to him for about 20 minutes before I realized that it was an obscene phone caller.