It would be easier if I was really into CSI

It appears that Omar Epps is leaving House. Well crap. My infamous spec House episode is all about Foreman. You can use specs even after the events change, right?

(If you came looking for info on Foreman leaving, go here.)

Either way I can't really use the episode as my primary anymore. It's time I stopped resting on my laurels and wrote a new spec. I have a Supernatural but it needs another revision and that's not a show that everybody watches even though it should be.

So as far as I can see I have two shows to choose from. Friday Night Lights or Heroes. Since Friday Night Lights still has an uncertain future Heroes looks like the better option. But I might end up with the same problem I have now since you never know who'll be the next to kick the bucket.

That's the problem when you like to write shows that evolve. People change and grow and die. My House episode is now two years old. It's interesting to me that I wrote a spec that lasted that long because I don't usually like shows with that much stability. It lasted so long I got complacent and didn't work hard enough at making it a companion piece.

My first useable spec was a Lost episode that was good for about three months. I wrote it about Shannon. Then Shannon died. So much for Lost.

So now I have to figure out how to make a Heroes episode that doesn't rely on a guest cast but doesn't interrupt the flow of the ongoing story. Oddly enough I have an idea. But my idea revolves a lot around Nathan. What if Nathan dies? Then I have another useless spec on my hands.

And I know this is a picture of Peter. I couldn't find a picture of Nathan. Besides, Peter's hotter, especially in this badass I'm - nailing - a stripper - and - have - a - big - scar - on - my - head persona.

It's a risky business we deal in. I suppose, though, that if I write an excellent spec it won't matter if the main character died since it was written. So I'll just have to go with faith that my natural ability will see me through. And my desire to write about people with superpowers.

All I know is somebody's getting punched in the face. It's my trademark. In Emily's scripts, somebody always gets punched in the face. I made Foreman punch a cripple.

Random observations

Julie's back. Nobody told me.

Milla Jovovich shops at Target with her kid and looks super hot in person. And absurdly tall.

Does anybody else wonder why the hell they let Jack Bauer keep his job? I mean, I know he saved the world a bunch of times but this week he also may have cause World War 3 in order to save that skinny bitch who went crazy from eating too much egg drop soup.

Rumor has it the new Spiderman is the bomb track. Think it'll bust its old record?

There is not a single brain cell in my head that wants to see Transformers.

I love Heroes, but it really is starting to look like X-Men: the Prequel.

Getting up at 5:30 sucks the fat one.

I mean it, I'm okay

There is a couple in my homeroom - I'll call them Victor and Mayra.

Victor and Mayra are always together. In the hall they hold hands. In class Mayra sometimes sits and pops the zits on Victor's face in between makeout sessions.

I'm not kidding. Teenagers are gross.

Today Victor sat in one corner of the room, smiling and laughing and joking with other kids while Mayra sat in another corner smiling and laughing and gossipping with her girlfriends. They didn't look or speak to each other the entire period and both looked filled with a little too much glee.

At one point I watched as Mayra's eyes beamed a peripheral glare in Victor's general direction for a brief second before returning to the mirror where she was applying makeup.

I don't need to know the details. I already know what happened just by watching them. And it reminded me of another thing to keep in mind when I work on my latest project.

People like to act happy when they're not. Victor and Mayra were trying as hard as they could to act gleeful for the benefit of the other one when they're clearly both in a bad way.

I found myself doing that the other day. Something went wrong and in a conversation with a friend I kept repeating the words "I'm fine" over and over again, clearly indicating how not fine I was in my constant effort to assure myself that I was, indeed, fine. Unfortunately my friend took me at my word and was very happy to hear how perfectly fine I'd ended up.

There's a song by My Chemical Romance called "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" where the singer mostly talks about how not okay he is. In the middle he stops and reassures us all that he's perfectly fine until he starts screaming about how okay he is. "I'm okay now" he says. "But you really need to listen to me because I'm telling you the truth. I mean this, I'm okay! (Trust me. I'm not okay.)" It's one of my favorite songs.

One thing I see all the time in my students' papers and in scripts by new writers is a tendency for characters to be too on the nose with the dialogue. Aside from being more realistic, it's also more interesting to watch a character put on an act than to sit around moping about how sad he is.

Body language tells a story words can't always convey. Especially when people are hurting. Because for some reason nobody wants the world to know they're in pain.

My other half part 2

Two people have recently asked me about my relationship with Writing Partner, so I'm going to go into more detail today about how we work together. And why.

It was not too long ago that I was asking people for advice on how to work with a partner, and here I am a few months later feeling pretty good about my experience.

Partner used to be Houseguest. Before that he was Date.

I went out one night with a friend of mine and her boyfriend. Boyfriend's friend joined us during the evening and he and I hit it off. He got my number and called me and we went to El Cholo for what turned out to be the best date I ever had. We ended up at my place in a lightsaber battle. That's not a metaphor. I actually own two toy light sabers and we battled.

You can say it. I'm the coolest girl ever. It's okay.

A few days passed and Date had some roommate problems and he needed to get out of his house. So I cooked him dinner and he crashed at my place. The next night he didn't want to go back so he crashed again. Then he just kept staying until a month later when he decided he wanted to move to a faraway land. That's how he became Houseguest.

And that's how I learned that although we like each other very much as people, an excellent date does not necessarily turn into an excellent relationship. We argued constantly, but he helped me figure some things out and I helped him make a few important decisions. And somehow in the middle of it all we started being creative together and Houseguest became Writing Partner.

Then he moved away and has yet to return.

A great plot for a romantic comedy, no? I've tried it and I'm just not a romcom girl. But if anybody wants to use it you can buy me a few beers and I'll give you more details and you can go write it yourself.

Since Partner lives so very far away we've done all of our writing over emails and phone calls. I usually start a story because I'm pretty clear about opening scenes. I'll write as much as I feel like and then email him the pages. We talk about it on the phone then he writes the next set and emails them back to me. Then we talk on the phone again.

Sometimes I'll make changes to what he wrote, sometimes I'll stick to my own stuff. We sort of play it by who has the strongest vision.

Even though we disagree about everything else there is to discuss, we tend to work pretty well with creative differences. I'll give an idea and he'll give an idea and after we explore why we feel the way we do we usually come to some third idea that is better than both of ours were.

I'm better at action, he's better at comedy. I'm better at dialogue, he's better at plot. I'm better at personal stories, he's better at sweeping themes. When we work together our scripts are always better than they are when we write apart. At least, that's the case with the three projects we've worked on so far.

The toughest part was that he didn't have MovieMagic, so I had to constantly reformat everything to and from RTF. He has it now, though, so things should get easier.

I'm really glad we only went on one date. If we'd been a couple I probably would have stabbed him before I realized how well we work together. Some things are just meant not to be.

Hi ho, hi ho...

Today was my first day back at work after eight weeks of vacation. I almost forgot I had a job.

I've been teaching yearbook so long I forgot what a full day of classes feels like. I'm beat.

I spent all day Friday getting my classroom ready. This morning my boss told me I'm in a room on another floor. So I moved everything to the new room. I want my old room back. It was on the balcony, outside where I could see the sky all day. Now I'm trapped in a science room with bunsen burners. I hope I don't get gassed to death by an angry freshman.

Ten minutes into class after explaining who I was and why I was here, I still had kids suddenly realize they were in the wrong place. One actually begged me to stay because he'd rather be in my English class than go to Life Skills.

I don't have keys because the plant manager insists that the teacher who thought she was in that room turn her keys back into him and make me go get them from him tomorrow if I can find him instead of just having her give them to me.

But it looks like my kids will be good. I know most of them already. There is only one who looks like his ego needs to be completely destroyed before I build him back up again, so that's good.

Being the center of attention for three 95 minute periods teaches you a thing or two about storytelling. You can see the different body language when you start to lose the class, and you adjust accordingly.

I'm going to go collapse on my couch and eat my frozen pizza after I defreeze it and watch 24 and Heroes. We get to see catatonic Audrey and the scary future tonight. I'll probably fall asleep during one of Jack's torture scenes like I always do on school nights.

Edited to add:
My boss just told me I'm moving back down to the classroom I was originally in.

Sigh.

My other half

Writing Partner has an audition Monday for a major national ad campaign. As in a company you've heard of. As in if he gets this job, you will see him on your television and maybe your local movie screen between the Fanta girls and the library kids.

He called me Friday to say he didn't think he wanted to do it because he didn't know if a commercial could really be a stepping stone to anything bigger.

This is the same guy who yelled at me for an hour at my stupidity because I didn't want to apply for a Writer's Assistant position on a major TV show. I gently reminded him of that conversation. Then I reminded him of Orlando Jones and the 7Up commercials. Then I reminded him how much he hates his current underpaying uncreative corporate job.

He's shaving his face and going to his audition just like he should. I hope he gets it.

This man is the most frustrating person I know. We argue constantly. He picks apart everything from my character descriptions to my eating habits to my love life and every time I disagree with him he rolls out the old quotes from Miguel Ruiz. I've taken to just hanging up every time he uses the phrase "You're taking it personally" when he tells me I'm weak and don't have the kind of brilliance that his film school education provided.

Ok he never actually says that. I kind of paraphrase a lot and exaggerate and that's when he gets frustrated. I'm certainly not innocent in our miscommunication. Our constant, aggravating miscommunication.

Sometimes I fear the world will find us curled up on the floor next to a fallen chandalier, both grabbing at a blood-stained script with our lifeless hands.

Partner and I are so incredibly different in our taste, too. He wants to write more dramatic emotional stuff or satirical comedies that explore controversial political issues. I want to write action stories that force people to make a decision between two horrible choices. He doesn't really appreciate my scripts and I don't really get his comedies.

But something happens when we work together. His strengths and his weaknesses completely balance mine out. He sees what I don't and I can fix what he doesn't know is wrong. And in the end he is a very good friend, a friend who I alternate between wanting to punch in the face and wanting to hug it out with all afternoon. Because he is the most honest and good person I know, dispite his bizarre desire to overanalyze everything.

Right now we're working on this series of chapters for our feature script. It's supposed to be a dark comedy. But his chapter is coming out way too goofy to be dark, and mine is coming out way too intense to be comedy. So when we're done we'll swap. I'll make his more serious and he'll punch up the humor in mine. And then we'll argue for three days.

Edited to add:

We just spent an hour in a massive fight where we decided we couldn't be friends anymore. He was mad because I said he should flesh out his characters more.

After an long email battle and me hanging up on him twice, we both took a breath and decided that we each inidividually overreacted. Then we workshopped our script some more and laughed and promised to take two days before responding to notes from now on.

We have an odd relationship.

We're not talking about banana pancakes

Yesterday I was headed to lunch with a bunch of male coworkers including one enormous ex-Army Ranger when another worker passed us and said, "You know, of everybody in that group the only one I'm afraid of is the little one," and he pointed at me.

I get that a lot. I think it's the boxing. Or maybe my general aggressive personality. But seriously, I'm a kitten. And just like a kitten, I will randomly go from curling up in your lap to attempting your destruction with my tiny paws for my own amusement. Now feed me.

My point is, I love boxing. I'm not very good at it yet, but I'm getting there. Technically I kickbox, but some days Trainer and I forego the kicking altogether and just hit each other. And I don't really like watching kickboxing. There's something about it that just doesn't get me jazzed the way a straight-up fist to the face does.

(For the record, the Golden Boy is going to stomp Pretty Boy's egotistical ass next Saturday.)

Boxing is a chess game for tough guys. There's so much to remember and avoid and you have to do the exact right thing at the exact right moment, and one false move can get your ass knocked out. You have to have a high threshold for pain and a massive amount of will power. Check on both counts for me.

But I'm never going to be a real fighter. Maybe one day someone will convince me to try an amateur fight, but I don't know if I want to risk my brain cells just to prove I can survive in the ring against a girl who probably grew up just west of the Jersey Turnpike and knows her way around a welding torch. For now Trainer works. He doesn't actually hurt me because I pay him an absurd percentage of my income.

So instead I've been trying to find ways to write about the sport. Partner and I have tossed around an idea or two but every time I come up with something we name a movie that already did it. Girlfight, Million Dollar Baby, Against the Ropes - those are all about women in the sport. Then there's Rocky and its sequels, Cinderella Man and Ali, and rumor has it somebody's making a film about the great Jack Johnson (the boxer, not the singer. Although I very much enjoy the singer, but don't want to see a movie about his life until he's done some time in rehab).

What's left to tell?

Then came the new project with the feature in chapters. I was assigned Billy and Valerie, two characters we created for Game Night who are a little on the tough side. One story will be about Billy, one about Valerie. So I was brainstorming and thinking about things I could do that will reveal elements of Billy's personality and throw out clues that will inch us toward the inevitable conclusion, when suddenly I remembered my obsession with boxing.

Billy is an amateur boxer. There. I got a whole backstory and a front story and a reason why he has to be a boxer or the whole story is ruined. And because it's part of a larger story and only one chapter of the tale, it doesn't just rehash things that have already been written about the sport. Plus I found a cool way to tell the story that's never been done.

It fits perfectly and makes me ever so happy because vicarious living is what writing is all about. Now I get to be a boxer too. Unfortunately for us both our opponent is going to knock our ass out. But that's the way the story goes. There's nothing I can do about it.

For the Lex lovers

If you are one of the many people coming here in a search for details about Michael Rosenbaum I am sorry I don't have more to say on the subject. He's a lot taller in person than I thought and he seemed to be very hyper when I saw him at the party Wednesday night. He was better looking than he is on TV, but still bald. That's all I can tell you because I did not talk to him.

Here's a picture I did not take. You've probably already seen it, but I haven't. I hope this helps with your stalking.

This is how we do it

I've gotten a lot of questions about my job both on and off the blog lately, so I will take this opportunity to explain what it is that I actually do all year.

The school where I teach is year round with three tracks. That means two tracks are on while one is off and each semester is eight weeks long. So you have two semesters at once - 16 weeks - then you're off for eight weeks.

In case you weren't paying attention, let me repeat that. Each semester is eight weeks long. We use up about two weeks of that in standardized testing, assemblies, riot control and various other activities. And it's extremely difficult to get our kids to do homework. So you can see why they might be a little behind.

We're on block scheduling, which means we have four 95 minute periods each day and half an hour for homeroom.

We don't have enough classrooms for all the teachers. Since I teach yearbook I'm one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to travel three periods a day. But I do have to switch rooms on occasion. Nobody in this school has a permanent room.

We have constant payroll problems. Hardly anybody ever gets paid what they're owed. One of my friends went a month once without a paycheck. Need supplies or books? Good luck.

I can only go to the bathroom every hour and a half, unless a kid has a question and then I have to wait an extra class period. A lot of first-year teachers get bladder infections.

But we get by. The kids are great because for a lot of them, they've been told all their lives what massive failures they are. Every time I tell people where I work they're amazed that I'm still alive. People don't expect anything from them so they stop expecting anything from themselves. Until we come along.

One of the best things about my job is the way I get to see the change take place. You see the failures too, but far more often you get to watch a scared, angry kid open up and take charge of his life right in front of you. Most of the time all you have to do is give them responsibility. Take a kid nobody has ever trusted with anything and put them in charge of something important and their whole life changes. It's amazing to watch.

I'm also lucky in that my boss likes me. She's a great boss. If you're a whiner, you get the bad classes. I never complain so I get honors kids and the best planning period. I also genuinely like my kids. It's sad how many teachers walk into a classroom filled with resentment at the children they're supposed to educate.

And if you don't have a thick skin they will obliterate you.

But they make you laugh all day if you let them.

And that's why I put up with the constant frustrations around here. I worked a solid year with no vacation until this last eight weeks when I finally got some time to myself to work on my screenplay, and it was kind of tough. Teaching's an easy profession to burn out in; that's why we need the long vacations.

I do not teach much grammar. People hear you teach English and they assume it must be a year of diagramming sentences and filling in worksheets, but most teachers don't deal with diagramming sentences anymore. Instead I teach literary terms, reading comprehension and essay writing. My kids deal in higher level thinking.

Today was a work day. I start teaching a new group of kids Monday - two classes of freshmen English and one class of juniors. Then prom, graduation and a new school year that starts the day after the previous one ends.

Welcome to LAUSD.

Wet willy, Mr. Timberlake

This is kind of neat.

MTV is offering film makers the opportunity to make the parodies for this year's awards show.

I don't really do parodies so I won't be giving it a shot. Also, I don't actually own a camera.

One of the most entertaining parodies I've ever seen was the Matrix spoof they did with Justin Timberlake, Sean William Scott and Will Farell a few years ago. It's a special feature on The Matrix Reloaded DVD. It's kind of the best thing about the DVD.

My first real Hollywood party

Last night I went to the premiere party for Kickin' It Old Skool, the new movie with Jamie Kennedy, who always makes me think of Romeo + Juliet because he played one of the Montague boys.

That's right. Jamie Kennedy makes me think of Shakespeare.

I didn't see the movie but I did see Jamie Kennedy, Emmanuel Lewis, Michael Rosenbaum and Joey Fatone. And maybe Bob Saget.

I met that Asian dude who was in the movie, Bob, even though he had absolutely no interest in meeting me. But I was talking to his brother at the time so I think he thought he was helping the guy score, like Vince on Entourage. His girlfriend is leggy and blond and like four feet taller than him. And very nice.

Bob's brother told me the movie is really good. He wouldn't lie to me, would he?

I got hit on by a guy who looks like Turtle, so that kind of blows my "Turtle is actually kind of cute" theory. His buddy was the worst wing man ever because he made sure we all knew he did not like my friend. Supposedly Turtle has a movie in development over at New Line. Like I care. He was still sleazy. Apparently he'd been stalking me since he saw me in line and fell in love with my mini skirt.

I woke up with a movie T-shirt on. I think the bartender gave it to me. He also gave me a lot of drinks that I in turn donated to my toilet when I got home. I blame him for the fact that I spent half an hour sleeping on my tile bathroom floor in the wee hours of the morning.

I've been on vacation for a while, but I have to go back to work tomorrow and mold young minds. I think I'm ready now.

But Seventh Heaven got eight hundred seasons

Dammit all to hell.

Apparently after only three weeks on the air, Fox has cancelled Drive.

At least this time nobody can blame Fox for not pushing the show or for putting it in a crappy timeslot.

I blame you.

You didn't watch it, did you?

You're an idiot.

Stop watching Are You Smarter Than My Neighbor's Dyslexic Cat and pay attention to good stories with Nathan Fillion in them. And fast cars. Hot women and fast cars and hot dudes and bank robberies. They killed off the ugly chick. What more do you people want?

For crying out loud.

How writers go method

One time while I was at Lead Actor's house for a party he did something that really pissed me off. I have since forgiven him and am way over it, but at the time I was very upset.

I went home and couldn't shake the anger so I wrote about it. I got out my laptop and wrote a six page short that took the events of the night before and shifted them around to make them a little story about a girl who's hopes and dreams are crushed by one man's actions.

That's not really what happened, but it was generated from what I felt at that time.

I wrote it in ten minutes, sent it to Partner and despite a disagreement about some structural elements, he thought it was really good.

So flash forward to this new plan we have about writing our film in chapters. I realized it would be an excellent introduction to our series to use this particular short as the opening chapter. I did a rewrite, changed surprisingly little, and now it's ready to go as part of our larger story.

Two things I think are interesting about this. One, you never know what's going to be useful. I wrote this short as a way to exorcise a demon and deal with my own silly emotions. I never had any intention of doing anything with it. Yet here it is, saving me time and energy by melting into the story we already created. All I had to do was change character names, a few details and one or two lines of dialogue.

The second thing I find interesting about this is what it's going to mean for Lead Actor. The character I based on him in this story is the one I've turned into his character from Game Night. He'll recognize the event right away as soon as he reads the script. So now he's going to have to play a real asshole version of himself doing an action very similar to something he actually did. That should be pretty surreal.

My rental nightmare

This is a lesson to anyone planning to move to Los Angeles any time soon.

Let me tell you about Wellman Properties.

Wellman Property Management, located at 1415 Stanford Street in Santa Monica, is hands down the worst rental agency I've ever dealt with. In short, only greedy douchefucks are allowed to work there.

Every time I've been in their office they've acted like I was a complete burden on their time. When I lost my roomate suddenly and had to pay rent three days late they showed me no sympathy whatsoever. When my car got broken into they implied that it was my fault for not expecting it to happen. And if you call them to ask a question or report a problem, they might consider getting back to you a month later.

When I moved into that place the carpet was filthy. I was surprised that it was not new since the previous resident had been there over two years, but I didn't really worry about it even thought it turned my feet black just to walk on it. It was the absolute cheapest carpet on the planet, the kind that's rough and ugly and sucks up dirt like a Dustbuster. But I'm not one to complain so I lived with it.

Once a guy came into my apartment and cut four square holes in the ceiling in various locations. He filled them in about two months later. I still have no idea why.

In January, after my car got broken into twice while it was in the garage and they refused to change the code to the gate to prevent future breakins, I decided to move out. On January First I got hit with a bill for an $80 increase in rent starting January First. I refused to pay it since they gave me no notice.

After I moved out two months ago I went back to clean on March 2. A Wellman employee was there and even though I had nothing in the apartment but cleaning supplies and he wasn't planning on doing anything to the apartment that day, he ripped into me for not being out sooner. I left without cleaning.

So I call up the company to ask where the hell my deposit is. I need this money desperately this week. I knew I had a couple of late fees and I knew they were going to have to replace the carpet in the living room, but it's cheap ass carpet and it wasn't new to begin with and the other rooms were fine. Plus I left these people my refrigerator and a water filter on the tap. And I've always been a model resident. I gave them 30 days notice even though I already had the apartment lined up, I didn't have wild parties or piss off my neighbors and I almost always paid rent on time.

My initial deposit, counting the pet deposit, was $1595. I got a bill today that says I owe them $77.88 above that.

I nearly had a heart attack. I was expecting a check for at least $800.

The carpet replacement bill alone was $1244. They charged me the extra $80, $100 for cleaning even though they refused to let me clean it myself, and an extra late fee for not paying the extra $80 in January.

The dumpster is spilling out into the garage, the lights are all busted or burned out outside, the gate latch rarely works and a leaky roof bubbled the paint and dripped dirty brown water onto the wall in my bedroom. But these people want more money from me.

So if there's nothing else I can do at least I can warn other people from dealing with them. Wellman Properties is a slumlord. If you are thinking about renting from them, don't.

UPDATE: I read the PDF James suggests in the comments and used what I learned to mail a letter demanding payment for violations from Wellman. I also demanded a copy of the receipt for the carpet cleaning. Turns out they had "accidentally" charged me for new tile as well and sent me a check for $354. It's not as much as I was asking for, but it's probably all I'll get so I'm leaving it there. At least I got something. I only got it because I demanded it.

Maybe we'll get Snow Patrol on the soundtrack

Partner and I have a new exciting idea.

We've been tossing around several theories about our next collaboration and finding nothing that aroused us both. Then today Partner said he's working on a new short that he wants me to read. He says since he doesn't have that much writing experience he'd prefer to practice on shorts a while before he writes something bigger again.

This gave me an idea.

I have a short that I wrote just for the hell of it a month ago. It ended up being pretty good and not far off of the themes in Game Night. So I said to Partner, "Dude!"

And he said, "What?"

And I said, "We could totally do a movie based on short films that all connect. Like Four Rooms. Or Go."

And he said, "Hmmmmmm."

And I talked to Lead Actor and he said, "Oh yeah."

And then I said, "What ideas do you have for your character that you want me to explore?"

And he said, "I have lots. But I'm at work right now so please stop IMing me every two seconds with your eureka moments and questions about Snow Patrol lyrics."

So I punched him in the face.

Just kidding. I need his face to look pretty. Also I can't punch him through the computer because of physics.

But he's stoked because it means our little short becomes part of a feature and he now gets feature credit and a salary. So it's not like he'd be opposed to the idea.

So what we're going to do is write about six other shorts to accompany the one we already have. Each will be a piece of the lives of the characters in Game Night, which will serve as the final piece as soon as we add a coda. I'm taking two of the characters and Partner is taking the others.

We're still going to film Game Night more or less as is. But now we have something real to do with it. Before we wanted to use it to build resumes and submit to festivals to advance everybody's career. Now we need it to interest people with money so they'll pay us to make the rest of the story.

Don't you just love ideas?

"No I don't need a daddy for my 3 kids"

There is a new show on VH1 called The Springer Hustle about the behind the scenes action on The Jerry Springer Show.

It's kind of what you'd expect - the most horrifying half hour of television imaginable.

The PAs find people who are "feisty" and willing to take their clothes off or beat the crap out of each other. Then the producers bring them in and practice with them. While the producer encourages White Girl to yell and scream and get indignant, she also encourages Black Mom to yell and scream and get indignant. Then they step aside and watch the fireworks they encouraged go off on stage. And everybody involved - the producers, the PAs, the guests, the audience, Jerry - they're all completely soulless.

Like I said, kind of what you'd expect.

But still.

It's the most appalling thing I've ever seen.

With every commercial break I felt a piece of my own soul break off and float away into the ether, never to return.

Save these boys

Did you see this week's Supernatural? That was one of my favorite hours of television ever. And not just because of Jensen Ackles, although he was indeed one hell of a PA.

The premise of this week's episode ("Hollywood Babylon") was a series of murders taking place on the set of a movie that coincidentally films on the Warner Brothers lot. I was just there the other day when Maggie showed me around. Why couldn't I have been there the day Sam and Dean were wandering around, joking about famous people?

Anyway, they sneak into the movie shoot and suddenly Dean's a PA, launching a string of hilarity as he quickly becomes the best PA ever on a really aweful movie. The episode reminded me of the "Wormhole Xtreme" eps of Stargate, filled with inside jokes but still amusing to people who don't know the business. But you could tell most of the jokes were for the benefit of the writers. It was definitely a self indulgent episode, but I don't care. It cracked me up.

DEAN: What's a PA?
SAM: I think they're kind of like slaves.

Supernatural is rumored to be on the bubble this season, which is a bit alarming because it's a very good show. It's also one of the few good dramas out right now that's easy to spec because it deals mostly in standalone episodes and you don't have to know an enormous amount of backstory to understand current events. I've got a Supernatural spec myself.

Plus, it's genuinely scary a lot of the time, but without the unecessary gore that makes me loathe to see modern horror films. Beautiful boys, scary crap going on around every act break, constant funny - you should be watching Supernatural. Start with the most recent episode. It'll crack you up.

Hollywood Nights

I'll tell you what a fancy haircut does. It makes you the belle of the ball. All the boys were trying to talk to me last night, but that might also be because there were only like three other girls at the party. As soon as guys found out I was a writer they were throwing themselves at me trying to get auditions for films I haven't written, even though I've been to these parties before and mentioned my projects before. I felt so Hollywood. Who knew expensive hair was so useful?

These two gems came out of my mouth last night:

"So I thought to myself, what would Mike Tyson do?"

and

"The point is, you were being a dick."

You can't have them because I plan to use them as scene openers.

The party was at Lead Actor's house because the party is always at Lead Actor's house. When we were back in his studio I found his giant stack of spanking new headshots and stole one to put on my bulletin board. I also got one from Partner. Then, when I get everything together I'll add the budget and shot lists and all kinds of other paperwork. I try to arrange it neatly and make it look pretty because when it's nice I tend to stare at the bulletin board with affection and that makes me start thinking about what I need to do. Having pictures of those two guys up there in my living room will remind me to keep working. It also might have the added bonus of creeping them out if they ever come over.

They're talking via email and so far they're getting along okay. Partner was all sketchy until he saw Lead Actor's reel and decided that maybe the guy can act after all. So I think I've avoided any major battles on set. Lead Actor said he wants it to be like summer camp, and I think that's a very good idea. We'll have smores on the craft services table. We can heat the marshmallows over the stove.

Lead Actor and I tried to have a discussion about what the core of the story is and what our goal is in producing it, but the conversation was interrupted by some random dude's intense need to remember Larry Birkhead's name which in turn begat a discussion of whether or not Anna Nicole Smith would be a good lay. That is not what my film is about.

What my haircut taught me

Since I live so close to Larchmont, the fancy little street in the middle of the city where all the cool rich people go to chill, I decided to get my hair done at HAS, the fanciest salon on the street. There's a Supercuts a few stores down, but seriously, who wants their highlights done at Supercuts?

They gave me something to drink and there were candles and fashionably dressed hair stylists and bamboo plants and all in all a general fanciness. I was prepared to spend over $100 because I was getting highlights and a cut and maybe a style since I'm going out tonight. I never asked about the cost because I wanted to pretend I was truly a fancy lady who lunches. I was there for over three hours. Fortunately my stylist was an absolute delight and we talked about the state of California public schools which her child is just beginning to discover as he lives very near the students I teach.

As I sat in the dryer with my head all covered in tinfoil I looked around me. There were fancy people all around, completely unaware they sat within mere feet of a lowly public servant who, quite honestly, had no right getting her hair done anywhere other than Supercuts.

I plan to go back there as soon as I find a way to mortgage my apartment. Want to see what $215 worth of hair looks like?


In a camera pan of the hair dryers and sinks this is what you would have seen: A Britney Spears doppleganger reading some sort of Us Weekly style magazine(apparently Prince William has split up with his girlfriend. A true international tragedy), a very old lady with liver spots perusing Lucky but holding a copy of Vogue in case the first magazine didn't hold her attention, a tall blond Germanic looking woman who easily could be a former supermodel turned trophy wife flipping through the latest copy of In Style, and little old me, sans makeup and deeply engrossed in A.J. Liebling's The Sweet Science which has a picture on the cover of the back end of a strong blow between Sugar Ray Robinson and Jake LaMotta.

One thing I have learned from spending time with actors is how much they love to play on opposites - like getting quiet when your character is in a rage or laughing when you're terrified. But it's also about your personal habits and interests.

A book about boxing does not belong in the fanciest salon on Larchmont any more than I belonged there. But there I was, nonetheless, acting as if I'd done this every day of my life. It made me think about my current script and how I hadn't done enough to give my characters those kinds of quirks. I usually do a very loose bio of my characters and figure out who they are as I go through the first draft. Before I start my first revision I usually go back through and figure out what little touches I can find to add to the backstories now that I know who these people are and what they're planning to do.

Today I remembered that I also need to give every single character a personality trait that is in direct opposition to his supposed stereotype, even if I never actually use it in the story. That will make everybody just a little more interesting and more real, but it's something I've been neglecting. Because it doesn't matter who you are or where you're from, you will always have a part of you that doesn't quite belong to the rest of you.

But it was also a reminder that places are imbued with that same kind of quirkiness. Even if the characters don't all show their opposites, maybe your locations can. Because you never know when you'll find a kickboxing schoolteacher in a fancy hair salon on Larchmont.

The best things in life

So Just Me accidentally started a meme and tagged me because I pointed it out. So here we go. Five things I'm grateful for. With pictures.


1) My cat. His name is Cyrano de Greenville but sometimes I call him by his street name, C Note. He's big and muscular and constantly hungry. He has all his claws and even though I warn people they still think it will be great fun to play with him until he rips the flesh off their palms. But he loves people and has never met a stranger. If he doesn't love you I know you must be evil. I have had many kidnapping threats launched against him because everybody loves my kitty.


2) My awesome apartment in my awesome neighborhood in this awesome town. I feel like I've spent my entire life making my way here. I love LA. And ever since I moved to LA I've been wanting to live near Larchmont. I just walked there this morning and got a bagel. I can see the Hollywood sign from my lovely balcony and I have hardwood floors and a dishwasher and the perfect amount of room for one girl and a cat. And the eternally blue sky always shines through my windows.


3) My friends. They're cool. And they help me out with things like making movies and throwing parties and boxing practice and advice and comfort when I get all sad and hating that boy I was having a casual relationship with when I walked in on him in bed with some girl at a party. I didn't have that many close friends for the past few years but the people I've met since I moved to LA are awesome.


4) Chocolate and nuts. Almond Joys, Mr. Goodbar, trail mix, I don't care. If there's a nut of some kind and there's chocolate involved, I'm all over it. Feel free to make all the dirty jokes you like because I already did. Chances are, if it's a dirty joke I thought of it first.


5) Hot dudes. There are so many, especially in LA. The gym is like a cornucopia of defined biceps. And I can't help it. I love biceps and the chests they're attached to. The guy in the picture? He lives here. He's like my big brother. My hot big brother with perfect abs.


That's what I'm grateful for. I hope the people in the pictures don't mind me using them. Now I tag people to spread the love.

Speaking of cool friends I've met in LA...

Scribe
Joel
And as always, and because I know she'll do it...
Maggie.