Friday night's all right for typing.

This is not the post I teased. We did have a poetry slam and the kids did impress the hell out of me with their poems, and I don't have any pictures because after I took them a student stole the yearbook camera which pissed me off so much I really don't want to talk about it.

So I'll talk about my scrapped plans for tonight.

I bought tickets to the premier of Hard Scrambled tonight, just assuming I'd find somebody to go with me. I was excited about the idea of meeting Beth Grant, who was probably going to be there, because she and I are on a path. She's from my home state and she went to my university 30 years before I did and she was in some of my mom's acting classes and she's friends with a Friend From Work. Friend keeps trying to find ways to introduce me to her with no results. Finally I was going to go to this movie and introduce myself. Then it rained.

I drive a Jeep Wrangler. I know, I'm enormously cool. But the problem with Wranglers is that when the roof is down it takes five Personal Trainers and a physicist to put the damn thing back up. I've asked some of my stronger male friends but they are incredibly lame. Seriously, I don't care about your pinched nerve or your hangover. I'm trying to stay warm in the morning while I drive to work. I'm planning on hitting Personal Trainer up with a cute girlie plea on Tuesday so maybe he'll get his buddies to help. Anyway, my roof is still down and it's raining. And nobody will come pick me up, even for a free movie ticket. Plus I don't have cash to pay for parking. So I scrapped the movie. Beth Grant and I will have to get aquainted some other day.

Since I had to eat $20 on the tickets I decided to make my night worth the loss. I'm not going to lose enough money to buy a meal at Chili's just to sit and watch this week's episode of The Nine. So I busted out my laptop and started typing. And I just finished the first draft. Forty-six pages of awesomeness. I can't remember the last time I felt this thrilled about a first draft. All I need is some baseball jargon I'm waiting for a friend to help me with as soon as he gets off the girl he's nailing. Then I'll have to not touch it for a week even though I'll constantly wake up in the middle of the night with a desperate need to change "looks disgusted" to "cringes". I must resist. I won't touch it until I haven't seen it for a week. Then I'll do edit number one and send it off to two of my friends (Get ready, Mark. Here she comes.)

Oh yeah. I'm stoked. If I pretend the camera thing didn't happen, this has been an awesome week. Well worth losing $20. Still wish I didn't have to miss Beth Grant, though. But whatever. I've got a spec pilot. Jane Espenson would be proud.