Emily knows what secrets lurk in the hearts of men

Research. It's interesting. Like, I know how to pick locks now. In theory, anyway. But according to the various instruction manuals I now have on my computer, all you need is an appropriate tool and some practice. So now I know how to become a hitman and pick locks, although I suppose you should probably know how to pick locks anyway if you're going to be a hitman.

If I disappear it's because the FBI came and got me. My only thought will be how pissed I am that I never got to finish the script. I hope Partner will carry on the short film without me.

It's another Battlestar weekend which is very exciting. I have a sneaky suspicion that the few writers for the show who even know I exist think of me as Maggie's Nervous Friend. I have no name that I am aware of, even to the lovely woman who hugs me. I'll bet as soon as I walk away from her she turns to her husband the writer and says, "What the hell is Maggie's Nervous Friend's name?" And he shrugs.

Which lands me square in the position of Show Groupie. I don't want to be a show groupie. I saw Almost Famous. I know what groupies do. I am not down for that.

Know what's annoying? When you're the lead singer in a band but people who haven't seen you play yet keep asking you who's girlfriend you are.

But maybe Anonymity isn't such a bad thing. Right now I'm mysterious. I can sit quietly in the corner and sip on a drink and be anybody. Like The Shadow. As soon as I start talking they might find out that I have a subscription to Astonishing X-Men and two light sabers in my closet. Of course, at a Battlestar Galactica party that would probably get me surrounded Scarlet O'Hara style by the many boys that will appear from out of nowhere as soon as they hear a feminine voice utter the words "I just wanted Amidala and Anakin to joke more, like Han and Leia, you know?" I hope they bring me cake.


I should try that. Then I can go from being Maggie's Nervous Friend to being Maggie's Dorky Friend.

Or maybe I should just bring cards and talk to people about my short. Or teaching. People like to hear about teaching. I should just walk up to random writers and say "I'm Emily and I teach in South Central," like I did when I was four except not so much about teaching as about how old I was. What happened to me? I used to be that obnoxious kid who introduced myself to everybody in the restaurant.

I have this one plan that usually works, though. Stand alone in a really visible place and sip on a drink, looking pretty and like you're observing the people around you. It's kind of like waiting on the sidelines at a school dance. Eventually somebody will approach you. And if they don't you can just start doing cartwheels.