tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68040415328097582772024-03-13T20:31:13.369-07:00Elisabeth Fitzgerald~ Writer of Daydreams and NightmaresElisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-46923389878081183452012-06-17T16:19:00.002-07:002012-06-17T16:19:33.539-07:00We're moving!And by "we" I mean this blog. Blogger has been AWESOME and I will keep this site up, but new updates can be found on:<br />
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<a href="http://elisabethfitzgeraldwrites.wordpress.com/">http://elisabethfitzgeraldwrites.wordpress.com/</a>
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Hope to see you there!Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-5951074430521974852012-02-05T15:17:00.000-08:002012-02-05T15:40:00.155-08:00The Indie eBook Revolution or, How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love My KindleFor my last birthday, I received a Kindle. I was pleased, yet I had trepidations about it (I blogged about said worries. Click <a href="http://elisabethfitzgerald.blogspot.com/2011/05/is-it-time-for-me-to-accept-inevitable.html">here</a> if you want to read that piece).<div><br /></div><div>Well, I've now had the Kindle for almost a year. While I haven't given up my love of the printed word (c'mon. I'm a library student. There's no way I'm going to ditch books), I do definitely see the value in it. Especially when coupled with Twitter.</div><div><br /></div><div>"What?" you're saying. "Seriously, how does the Kindle connect with Twitter?" I'm happy to tell you. I'm on Twitter (<a href="http://twitter.com/elisabethfitz">follow me!</a>) and I love to follow other writers. It's fun to find people using hash tags (my favorites are the #FridayReads and #AmWriting ones). It's also very fun to find new reading material. </div><div><br /></div><div>More and more authors are going the "indie" route and deciding to self publish their work. The issue, of course, is how to market that work? Twitter is the perfect way. And eReaders are the perfect medium.</div><div><br /></div><div>Many people have credited the eReader with the rebirth of the short story and I think there's a lot of truth in that. It's difficult to find an audience for the short story. Even if people like them, they don't know where to look. Anthologies are great, but they can be big and pricey and may only contain one or two stories that you care about reading. Not so with the Kindle. You can pick and choose your stories. And they're usually priced under $5. I can $5 like ANYTHING. I've discovered a lot of great new authors this way.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll never stop loving books. But the Kindle will definitely have a permanent place in my home. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-12090833962335706562012-01-19T10:57:00.000-08:002012-01-19T11:03:42.039-08:00Forgiving and Forgetting<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>We all know that it's better to forgive than forget. However, that is easier said than done. Just look at Ross and Rachel on Friends. How many times did "We were on a break!" come up?<div><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCkE_NUaC5E/TxhoyIHj4BI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Zi_2A5bL0DI/s320/Ross-and-Rachel-ross-and-rachel-516723_1920_1384.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699420538819305490" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Forgiveness is important, though. So important that I wrote a whole article about it. Check it out!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/forgiven-not-forgotten">Forgiven Not Forgotten</a></div></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-8693115803005305082012-01-18T09:40:00.001-08:002012-01-18T09:52:51.084-08:00[Insert Black Bar Here]I'm not graphic design savvy enough to actually make a black bar my subject heading, but you get the idea. Like many people, I'm against SOPA. The first writing that I actually shared with other people? Yeah, it was fanfiction. Fanfiction for a horror/sci fi show called "Poltergeist the Legacy." I adored that show and I credit it for helping me overcome my shyness regarding writing and sharing my work. I made zero money from my stories and no harm was done. I was just, you know, creating.<div><br /></div><div>Piracy is a bad thing. Stealing is not good. However, neither is a mandate that could censor the internet. I've had to deal with the MPAA quite a bit in my entertainment career. They're not my favorite organization. I've seen the "standards" on which movies are rated. It usually depends on how much money the studio has or how powerful the people attached are. I worked for a small studio and we constantly struggled with MPAA regulations. However, the bigger studios didn't seem to have the troubles that we did. More money? Probably. Did the whole experience leave a bad taste in my mouth? Definitely.</div><div><br /></div><div>We need to protect the freedom that is afforded to us by the first amendment. I encourage you to sign this petition and stop internet censorship.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.google.com/landing/takeaction/">Sign Here!</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Also, check out this hilarious video of Hitler ranting about SOPA. This is what's at stake!</div><div><br /></div><div><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uvXo4sGB7zM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-10070787770565733342012-01-16T18:11:00.000-08:002012-01-16T18:17:58.629-08:00THAT Guy (and Why I'm Him...or Her, Rather)<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I love my dog. Like, crazy, ridiculous love. I used to worry that I wouldn't be able to give a child all of the love that he or should would deserve, but my maternal instincts kicked in to high gear when we got Mushu. Now? I'm looking forward to starting a family.<div><br /></div><div>That's a few years off, though, so right now my fiance and I are devoting our time to our pug. And, well, we're THOSE people. The scary dog people. The ones that talk about their dogs like they're babies. The ones that take cutesy dog pictures and post them on the internet and attend doggie events. And, uh, write blog entries about how much they love their dog. Yeah. I take it even farther and actually follow some other pugs on Twitter. Although, I don't tweet for my dog. So, that's progress right? (And, if you want to follow me on Twitter, click <a href="http://twiiter.com/elisabethfitz">HERE!</a>)</div><div><br /></div><div>What is the point in revealing my insanity, you may be wondering? Well, I recently wrote an article for the Pug Rescue of San Diego County (they rescued our darling Mushu!). Since I am a writer and this is a writing blog, I thought I'd share. I know other dog crazy people will understand. And if you're not a dog crazy person...well, thanks for your patience.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xPtjDS3EWrQ/TxTaE67FK8I/AAAAAAAAAIc/xjnkprxr9_o/s320/mushuoliver1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698419206601911234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12pt; ">Certain parts of the holiday season are particularly difficult. Dealing with any family drama, ridiculous amounts of eating and drinking, sleeping everywhere but your own bed, all of that jazz. However, the most difficult part of my holiday season was leaving my sweet Mushu in Los Angeles while I was away in Chicago. Oh, he had a wonderful time at his “doggie resort.” He played and romped and was completely exhausted when he came back home. The separation was definitely harder on us than it was on him.<br /><br />So, it’s no wonder that we showered Mushu with lots of hugs, kisses and presents upon our reunion. He was given several Christmas gifts by his grandparents and took a particular shine to a stuffed cow that makes mooing sounds when you squeeze it. At first, we were concerned that the noise would scare him but the cow (now named “Oliver”) has become his baby. He grooms it and cuddles with it and gnaws at it lovingly. It’s both hilarious and touching to watch him jump all over with Oliver.<br /><br />Another treat that Mushu particularly loves is <a href="http://cts.vresp.com/c/?PugRescueofSanDiegoC/b1e3eaeda4/614b02dae5/78a6993965" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(17, 85, 204); ">deer antlers</a>. We were able to obtain some from a family </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12pt; ">friend that hunts and did lots to research to find out how to properly prepare them. The ones that we have are approximately six inches long and Mushu thinks they’re pretty much the best thing since sliced bread. He completely ignores his Nyla-bones in favor of the antlers. He will chew on them for hours. The smooth finish on the antlers is now covered with pug teeth marks. The best thing? The antlers are so hard that he hasn’t been able to break them yet. Oh, he’s tried. But so far they’ve outlasted his best efforts.<br /><br />It’s rather funny that we spend so much money investing in the best food and treats for our furry babies and the things that bring them the most joy are the simple things in life. It reminds me of playing with my Barbie dolls as a child and thinking that there was nothing better than my shoebox car. Hey, it worked! They fit perfectly and my imagination did the rest. Perhaps Mushu feels the same way about Oliver and his antlers. He does not need the fanciest toys or things that light up or move on their own. He’s more than content with what he has. I think that one of my resolutions for 2012 is to take a lesson from my darling pug. Sometimes the only things you really need in the world are a <a href="http://cts.vresp.com/c/?PugRescueofSanDiegoC/b1e3eaeda4/614b02dae5/e380c215eb" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(17, 85, 204); ">soft toy </a>to lay on and something fun to eat. It’s the little things</span> </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-68322536143475900512012-01-05T11:20:00.000-08:002012-01-05T11:22:47.682-08:00Your Collegiate Vocabulary LessonI've been out of college for a few years. I'm not going to say how many. However, I am glad that no one has ever referred to me as a "slam piece." What's a "Slam Piece," you ask? Well, I have your answer...<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/the-bro-culture-aka-things-i-learned-from-my-younger-brother">The Bro Culture: AKA Things I Learned From My Younger Brother</a></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-21729400882632247892012-01-03T08:49:00.001-08:002012-01-03T09:00:11.961-08:00New Year, New Goals, New Resolutions<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Happy 2012, dear readers! It may be our last year on earth, if the Mayans are correct, so let's live it up!<div><br /></div><div>Do you make New Year's Resolutions? I do, but I have to admit that I've had a hard time keeping them in the past. So, now, I do a little cheat when making my resolutions. I make resolutions that I actually think I'm going to be able to keep. Does that count? I don't know, but I always feel good when I can actually accomplish something. So, I set reasonable goals. ;-)</div><div><br /></div><div>This year I've set three resolutions:</div><div><br /></div><div>*To become more familiar with sci fi (reading and watching)<br />* To do yoga twice a week</div><div><div>* To learn a new word every day</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_SjRA4us6s/TwMzvJiASfI/AAAAAAAAAIA/orhoE7LxWkY/s320/yoga.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693451239031851506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px; " /><div><br /></div><div>So far the sci fi and the vocabulary have been smooth sailing. I purchased some sci fi at Half Price Books and I've been watching The X Files. No problems there. New words? Also not an issue. There's an app for that. I can see the yoga tripping me up, but I need to do it. New Year's Resolutions are supposed to be about self improvement, right? They aren't supposed to be totally easy.</div><div><br /></div><div>2012. Let's do this. Namaste. </div></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-52644725634158935502011-10-12T09:01:00.000-07:002011-10-12T09:23:23.724-07:00I'm Just Going to Say It: Vampires Shouldn't SparkleWhat? They shouldn't! Vampires are evil creatures of the undead. Sparkly creatures need not apply.<div><br /></div><div>Clearly, I'm not a huge fan of the Twilight series. Beyond the sparkly vampires, though, I have real issues with the heroine: Bella Swan. These books are beloved by millions of young girls, right? And, yet, the heroine is so WEAK. Seriously. She's willing to give up her humanity for a boy that she meets in high school and who treats her like dirt. The whole message is: "Your life is worthless if a man doesn't love you!" No thanks. I think our young women deserve better role models. Here are some suggestions:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/top-ten-fictional-female-role-models-that-are-better-than-twilight%E2%80%99s-bella-swan">Top Ten Fictional Female Role Models That Are Better Than Twilight's Bella Swan</a></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-78679194258142260332011-09-21T10:23:00.000-07:002011-09-21T10:49:17.284-07:00Pencil Skirts, Day Drinking and Mad MenOh, how I do mourn for the past (obvs. I mean, just check out my previous blog entry)! I didn't grow up in the 60s, but I think I would have loved it. Yes, things were harder for women. Yes, it was a turbulent time. However, it was a time of great social change. People just seemed to CARE more, you know?<div><br /></div><div>This article isn't about social change or caring. However, it is about good manners. And if we're all nice to each other, maybe we can change the world that way.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/new-fall-2011-trend-chivalry">New Fall 2011 Trend: Chivalry </a></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-37184374869396904232011-09-20T21:34:00.000-07:002011-09-20T22:10:27.799-07:00Choose Your Own (Life) Adventure<div style="text-align: left;">Recently, I've begun writing a screenplay. I KNOW! It's incredibly Hollywood of me. I've never thought of myself as a screenwriter and, frankly, I may totally suck at it. I'm going to give it a go though. I have a story in me that needs to be told. I've been going through some "life stuff" lately. It's too painful to write about in its purest truth, so I need to create a fictional metaphor to deal with it. Hence, the screenplay.</div><div><br /></div><div>I sat down today and tried to write. I managed to write a mini-treatment so I was sure I knew where the story was going. Beyond that? I sat and thought, not only about the story, but about all the roads not taken.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all have things that we didn't do in life. Maybe you didn't ask the cute boy to the prom in high school. Maybe you really wish you'd majored in interpretive dance like you secretly dreamed of doing. Whatever it is, we all have our regrets.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I began to wonder if maybe there are just too many options. I know, the world's my oyster and all that. Sometimes I just wish that I had a manual: if you do this, this will happen. Take this road and these doors will open...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>What if I'd joined the Peace Corps like I'd wanted to? How would my life be different?</div><div><br /></div><div>What if we'd never left Chicago?</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>What if I'd studied abroad?</div><div><br /></div><div>What if I'd gotten my master's degree?</div><div><br /></div><div>And so on and so forth.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jD65ff5_nbk/TnlxOkqjI-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/b0vUIRKzj64/s320/Cave_of_time.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654675302314615778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 320px; " /><div></div></div><div><br />When I was in grade school I really enjoyed the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books. (Did I just date myself? Are those overwhelmingly 90s?) I always cheated. Don't like outcome of the story? Quick, go back and take the other path! Choose a different ending!</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess the point of this rambling post is that sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could turn back time and choose a different ending. Or at least, see what might have been.</div><div><br /></div><div>I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives. Hope you're happy with your adventure. </div></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-81109516863924054772011-09-10T19:23:00.000-07:002011-09-10T21:09:15.672-07:00Our New Little Addition<span class="Apple-style-span">The Boyfriend and I have been together for a good long t</span><span class="Apple-style-span">me. I'm not going to reveal how long, lest I reveal our true ages, but suffice to say that we've been together through the return of bell bottoms and skinny jeans. We've lived together in LA for nearly four years and we decided the time had c</span>ome. We were going to make that commitment. We were going to expand our family.<div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><br /></div><div>We were going to adopt a dog.</div><div><br /></div><div>We'd been thinking about it for a really long time. Almost four years, in fact. I've always wanted a pug and The Boyfriend was totally down with that notion. We're both hippies at heart so we decided on a rescue as opposed to going to a breeder or a pet store.</div></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><br /></div><div>(Side Note: Seriously, please don't go to a pet store. I'm not one of those crazy PETA people, what with my love of a good steak and a leather bag, but puppy mills are major no nos. No animal lover wants <a href="http://www.peta.org/issues/Companion-Animals/puppy-mills-dogs-abused-for-the-pet-trade.aspx">this </a>to be the reality for their four legged friend.)</div></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><br /></div><div>We did our research. Oh, boy, did we research. The Boyfriend is obsessive about information. It's a good quality, but exhausting, too. We have a 29 gallon aquarium and he painstakingly researched every type of tropical fish that went into it. What they liked to eat, what fish they'd get along with, even their personality traits. He is nothing if not thorough. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our research lead us to <a href="http://www.pugbutts.com/index.php">Pug Rescue of San Diego County.</a> Yes, I know that we live in Los Angeles. Yes, I know that San Diego is two hours away. And, yes, I know that there are pug rescue societies in LA. However, PRSDC had Mushu an adorable 3 year old pug who had been relinquished by his family because they recently got a more dominant dog.</div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I fell in love with Mushu right away. The Boyfriend fell in love with Mushu. We immediately contacted the society and they put us in touch with Mushu's awesome foster mom. After speaking to her, we knew that he was the perfect pug for us. And that, gentle reader, is how I would up getting up at 5am on a Saturday, driving to San Diego for a pancake breakfast, and returning with a pug.</div></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TFLVTE2-S9s/Tmw0GFLziuI/AAAAAAAAAHw/2U6Uu0jPPcU/s320/mushu.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650948911518681826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px; " /></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div>I have to say, I'm a tad terrified right now. I imagine people with newborns feel the same way. You're so thrilled with your new baby. He or she is everything you've ever dreamed of. But now there's this living thing. And it depends on you. This, my friends, is going to be an adventure. I'll keep you posted. </div></span></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-64654817348960878082011-08-17T21:14:00.000-07:002011-08-17T21:20:28.823-07:00It's Friday, I'm in Love!Well, it's not Friday. Sorry about that. I know, I'm disappointed too. Of course, I don't know when you're reading this. Maybe it is Friday. In which case, yay!<div>
<br /></div><div>No matter what day you're reading this, I invite you to check out my article on The Zeros Before the One. I decode the mysterious male "hello" and we also learn our days of the week in a way that kindergarten never prepared us for.</div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/days-of-the-week-dating">Days of the Week Dating</a></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-69219677220841141102011-08-12T17:16:00.000-07:002011-08-12T17:18:45.956-07:00Does the Facebook Fork Go On the Right or the Left?Because the thing that society really needs is something else with ill defined rules. Check out my latest article for Commentarista:<div>
<br /></div><div><a href="http://commentarista.com/2011/08/12/social-network-etiquette/">The Etiquette of the Social Network.</a></div><div>
<br /></div><div>Ironically, I wrote this article before I joined Twitter. Now I have to learn those rules, too. Tips are appreciated. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-38466727370904616652011-08-03T21:52:00.001-07:002011-08-04T21:56:28.094-07:00A Hollywood Urban Legend.The following story is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. <div><br /></div><div>Okay, I actually don't know if this story is true. I heard it from a friend, who heard it from a friend, and so on. This is one of those stories that every assistant really WANTS to be true. It floats around like an urban legend. However, I have invented names. So, that still applies.</div><div><br /></div><div>The story goes like this: there was an assistant, we'll call her Charlotte, who worked for an executive who we'll call Simon. Simon, like many entertainment execs, was...to put it bluntly, an asshole. He demanded, he demeaned, he bullied...really just take the worst possible traits a human being can have and then give him an ego the size of the Hollywood sign.</div><div><br /></div><div>One day, poor Charlotte decided that she'd had it. She was through suffering his abuse with a smile. It came to a head when he kept throwing irrational demands at her while she was trying to schedule a trip to the Sundance Film Festival for him.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Make sure that I'm in the third row, seventh seat for every screening I go to. But I don't know what movies I want to see, so just secure that seat for every available screening of every movie."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I want to have dinner with Bob Redford. No, I don't know him. Make it happen."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Make sure that I'm not sitting next to a fat person on the plane."</div><div><br /></div><div>Our heroine had reached her breaking point. We've all got one. She knew she needed to get out. But how? Simply quitting wasn't enough. Not after all the stunts that he had pulled.</div><div><br /></div><div>Charlotte played the part of the dutiful assistant while plotting her escape. She wrote up a detailed itinerary for Simon, mapping out all of his insane requests. She included confirmation numbers, reservation codes and phone numbers. Simon was pleased with the it...well, as pleased as he could be.</div><div><br /></div><div>Until, that is, he got to the airport. Because, gentle reader, his airline confirmation? Didn't match any flight. The hotel? Sorry, no such reservation in our system. And Mr. Redford still didn't know that he existed.</div><div><br /></div><div>And what of our heroine, lovely Charlotte? No one's exactly sure. After Simon left for the airport, she cancelled her cell phone number, deleted her email address and left LA in her rear view mirror. We can only hope that she's somewhere safe, happy and not being abused.</div><div><br /></div><div>Charlotte, where ever you are, whoever you are, we salute you. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-88048435246315357242011-07-31T18:52:00.000-07:002011-07-31T18:58:32.723-07:00Would I Jump Off a Bridge If Everyone Else Was Doing It?<div style="text-align: left;">I guess the answer is yes. That's right, gentle reader. I have joined the dark side. I am now on...Twitter. I'm a tweeter. I'm tweeting. Whatevs. I'm there. I never thought I'd do it. Twitter seemed too new fangled for my liking. However, a dear friend convinced me that it was a good move for my writing career. She was incredibly persuasive and the more I thought about it, the more I realised that she was right. So, I guess there's nothing else to say except:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nH-4cMrzmak/TjYHpQzFvOI/AAAAAAAAAHo/eF6UFxv3jMs/s320/twitter-follow-me-post1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635700389166038242" /><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://twitter.com/elisabethfitz">Elisabeth Fitzgerald on Twitter</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Don't worry, I'll still be updating this blog frequently. 140 characters? Please. It takes me that long to explain what I do for a living. </div></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-25496375902177789812011-07-27T15:22:00.000-07:002011-07-27T15:26:59.520-07:00Think Before You SpeakHey, I admit it. I'm the first person to make a joke in an uncomfortable situation. Humor is my defense mechanism. My sister does this, too. We've discussed it at length, and we're pretty sure it comes from our father. Sometimes it's easier to just go for the joke.<div><br /></div><div>However.</div><div><br /></div><div>I need to remember that words can be hurtful and sometimes making "light" of a situation can really be making it worse. Check out my newest piece for Commentarista, and you'll see what I mean.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://commentarista.com/2011/07/27/sticks-and-stones-may-break-my-bones%E2%80%A6and-words-can-hurt-too/">Stick and Stones May Break My Bones...And Words Can Hurt, Too</a></div><div><br /></div><div>One of the most overused phrases of this decade has got to be "in this economy." Nevertheless, IN THIS ECONOMY we should all try to be extra sensitive to the problems of our friends. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-21541206774003736812011-07-20T11:23:00.000-07:002011-07-20T13:26:03.556-07:00I'll Take Door #2, Please<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>There are two sets of frosted glass doors to enter the floor where my office is located. I have a key fab for one of them, and go in and out of those doors several times a day. However, across the elevator bay sits another set of doors. They look the same as the first set, but they are not. I don't know where they lead. I've never seen anyone go in or out. They are the Mystery Doors.<div><br /></div><div>What wonders lie behind the Mystery Doors? A balcony overlooking Wilshire Boulevard? A break room filled with coffee and donuts and (possibly) booze? A magical resting place with couches and a TV that plays nothing but Family Guy, The Office and Absolutely Fabulous? Oh, the possibilities!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rw3yA3yrozg/Tic5tL22huI/AAAAAAAAAHg/iGFJ3BpL6go/s320/photo%2B%252817%2529.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631533307489847010" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, I know it's probably a conference room or an executive office suite. However, I spend the majority of my day sitting at a table that doubles as a desk organizing other people's lives. Let me dream. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-80628363471216979962011-07-13T12:37:00.000-07:002011-07-13T12:40:13.148-07:00Online Dating and Catholic MothersWhat do they both have in common? Guilt trips (sorry, Mom. I love you!). Seriously, it's easier to break up with an actual partner than it is to cancel a dating profile. Don't believe me? Check out my latest article for THE ZEROS BEFORE THE ONE.<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/warning-deleting-this-dating-profile-may-lead-to-a-solitary-life-and-dying-alone">Warning! Deleting This Dating Profile May Lead to a Solitary Life and Dying Alone</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Does this count as a science experiment? </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-37439715265108765522011-07-10T16:07:00.001-07:002011-07-10T18:42:07.812-07:00Table for OneWhile I have a preference for solitude, I don't often do things alone. Maybe it's because I'm in a long term relationship. Maybe it's because I don't really do a whole lot unless one of my awesome friends invites me. Whatever the reason, I'm not much of a "for one" girl. However, that all changed on Friday night.<div><br /></div><div>Let me set the scene for you. Friday night. Beverly Hills, California. I was meeting a friend in Santa Monica for a 7:30pm movie and my work day ends at 5:00pm. The commute time between downtown BH and the movie theatre is roughly 40 minutes. So, I had some time to kill. And, due to a crazy pre-production schedule, I hadn't eaten since 8am. Cranky is not a strong enough word to describe my mood. Flaming bitch might have come a little closer. Translation? I needed to eat, pronto. </div><div><br /></div><div>My friend was having drinks with former co-workers, so I was on my own to find sustenance. After parking what felt like a mile away I trudged my giant bag, laptop and weary bones to a small cafe on Montana Ave. Any trepidation that I had about eating alone was overshadowed by my intense hunger. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully, my waitress had a good sense of humor and didn't blink an eye when I greeted her not with "Hello," not with "Good evening," but with "white wine, please!" The wine appeared almost instantly and I suddenly realised that I was sitting in a crowded restaurant...all by myself. Ordinarily, I would have worried about looking "uncool," but I'm not 18 anymore. So...who really cares if I'm uncool? I pulled out my trusty Kindle, loaded up a script and sipped my wine. Other than a brief conversation with the older couple sitting next to me about said Kindle, I enjoyed my BLT and wine(s) in solitude, And, you know what? It was pretty awesome. I never felt awkward or embarrassed to be alone. If anything, I felt in control and mysterious. Plus, everything moved at my pace, no waiting for anyone else. That alone was worth the price of the meal.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've never been to the movies by myself. I kind of want to see HORRIBLE BOSSES. Hmm...</div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-55397137126319818152011-06-23T08:22:00.001-07:002011-06-23T08:35:02.909-07:00Industry As A Second LanguageHollywood isn't like any other place. Where else would you find an entire city obsessed by the world of make believe? Of course, there's nothing truer than the old statement "it's not showFRIENDS, it's showBUSINESS. " This is, most definitely, a business. And, like any business, it comes with its own set of rules and regulations. Lesson One: Language. I majored in Spanish and speak it fluently, but nothing prepared me for this.<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://commentarista.com/2011/06/23/hollywood-lingo-a-tool-of-the-tinseltown-trade/">Hollywood Lingo</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Click the link above to check out the article I wrote for Commentarista about surviving Hollywood speak. Don't worry, there's no quiz. </div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-10229102649190625912011-06-13T21:16:00.000-07:002011-06-13T21:39:52.265-07:00Give me a T! Give me a V!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I really could sub-head this post: The Things I Do for Money.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's no secret that times are tough, economically speaking. Most of us will do whatever we can for some additional money. In my case, that even included...audience work.</div><div><br /></div><div>What's audience work, you ask? Well, let me explain. Do you ever watch television shows that are "filmed in front of a live studio audience"? These can include game shows, variety programs, talk shows, etc. It may surprise you to hear that a lot of times the audiences for those shows are paid. It's pretty good work, actually. Easy enough, really, and you can meet some interesting people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Except.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>The last show I worked stuck me in the front row. I get it. I was wearing a nice black dress. Totally camera appropriate. However, those shows usually want cheering and enthusiasm. That gets really taxing after about four takes for even the most cheerful and enthusiastic of people. And, honey, I am not the most cheerful and enthusiastic of people. We were there for about six hours with no bathroom break, no water and only a candy bar to keep our sugar up and energy high. Unfortunately, all that did was give me a massive headache. I apologise to the good people casting that particular show. You asked for this:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w77HN73OXTE/Tfblkc-BSCI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ydJFiCqD0Gw/s320/cheer.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 145px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617929999605647394" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>And this is me:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g6FLvjD6Z1I/TfblYUAgKzI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/bcxuZIOj3Zo/s320/DariaALP5-10-10.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617929791041710898" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I should probably sit in the back next time.</div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-23317588369096895502011-06-06T09:32:00.000-07:002011-06-06T09:42:06.361-07:00The Name GameIt seems to be a source of great debate. Should a woman keep her last name after she gets married? In these days where the divorce rate is 50%, is changing your name more trouble than it's worth?<div><br /></div><div>Frankly, I'm all for name changing, but I have a really rough last name (and, no, it's not Fitzgerald). Check out my newest article at The Zeros Before the One and let me know where you stand on the whole debate.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/whats-in-a-name">What's in a Name?</a></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-86354736362441684622011-06-04T16:51:00.000-07:002011-06-04T17:35:14.329-07:00Part of the raw food movement?<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Lately, The Boyfriend has become addicted to Groupon, the site where you can find lots of cool deals on things in your area. Like me, he's not one to pass up a deal so we've found ourselves with a lot of interesting things (ie a dental cleaning at a local clinic -- only $25!). Last night he presented me with a Groupon for a Korean BBQ joint in our neighborhood. I'd never had Korean BBQ before, but what the heck? I'm cultured, right?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>We walked in and were instantly greeted by men in white chef's aprons screaming at us. Straight up screaming. I jumped about ten feet and cowered near The Boyfriend. He smiled politely and gave them our name, quietly pointing out to me that they were just saying hello. Strike one for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The waiter lead us to a table in the back. It was a large table for two people, with a grill in the middle. That gave me immediate pause. What the heck was a grill doing there? Did I...did I have to cook the food myself? Wasn't the point of going to a restaurant to have someone else do the cooking for me?</div><div><br /></div><div>The shouting continued as we attempted to order. It took several tries, but we finally got our point across to the lovely-yet-not-English-speaking gentleman waiting on us. The Boyfriend gazed at me tenderly and leaned over to whisper in my ear:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Calm down. You look petrified."</div><div><br />Strike two for me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div> The food began to arrive. There were a few vegetables I couldn't identify and a few meats that I could. As I feared, it was raw. The Boyfriend and I exchanged a glance. "It'll be fine," he said firmly. "It's an adventure. You love adventures." Well, yes, but not if they could possibly end in food poisoning.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>After figuring out how to turn the table on, The Boyfriend began to throw things onto the grill. I watched cautiously, nibbling on some broccoli. "Here," he said, piling some cooked meat on to my plate. "You're supposed to wrap it in the lettuce. Go on."</div><div><br /></div><div>I tentatively took a bite. It was good. 'Nother bite. REALLY good. Huh. Maybe there was something to this cook-your-own-BBQ after all.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q3NOv67kXtc/TerO780hsqI/AAAAAAAAAHA/nXHjBOdOSKk/s320/photo%2B%252814%2529.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614527414804787874" /><div><br /></div><div>The place was an all you can eat joint, and The Boyfriend takes FULL advantage of things like that. We didn't leave until nearly 10:30 at night. By that point, I had come around to the idea of Korean BBQ...although the three gin and tonics that I had consumed may have aided in my epiphany.</div><div><br /></div><div>I cheerfully bounced out of the restaurant, smiling at the staff that I passed. Once again, they shouted at us. </div><div><br /></div><div>"GOOD BYE! THANK YOU!" I shouted back. The Boyfriend shook his head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Strike three for me. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-37752606660338295932011-05-30T14:07:00.000-07:002011-05-30T15:41:00.413-07:00Is It Time for Me To Accept the Inevitable?<div style="text-align: left;">It was my birthday on Friday. Even though I'm [age redacted]<age redacted="">, I'm still a fan of my birthday. Heck, I'm a fan of any excuse to throw a party. Plus, today is the American holiday of Memorial Day and it's always neat when my birthday falls in line with a three day weekend. </age></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><age redacted=""></age>Why am I telling you all this, you wonder? Is it because I'm an ego maniac? Well, maybe, but I do have a point,I swear.</div><age redacted=""><div><br /></div><div>In my line of work, I have to read a lot of scripts. You have to be up on the latest and greatest if you want to be able to participate in the game and I was starting to fall behind. It wasn't convenient for me to do a ton of script reading. My printer is less than perfect, ink is expensive and it's wasteful to print that much. And you can't exactly cuddle with a laptop in bed at night.</div><div><br /></div><div>My darling boyfriend (who is also in the industry) recognized this and took pity on me, buying me a Kindle for my birthday. I have been diligently avoiding e-readers for quite some time now. I'm not a techno-phobe, per se, but I truly love books. I love holding them and the way they smell and the rustling sound of pages being turned. I used to work in a library and I could get lost in the stacks for hours.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, you can see why I approached the Kindle with extreme caution. I mean, it's <i>nice</i>. It really is. It's very light weight and it holds a lot of files. But...it's not a book. It's lacking the soul of the printed word.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or is it?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XIltUypuS3Q/TeQb8pGAD3I/AAAAAAAAAG0/HKgHqZwBHww/s320/kindle.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612641764247605106" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>As a writer, I have to recognize the value of the e-book. To quote Bob Dylan: the times, they are a-changing. A reasonably priced e-book is a great way to get your work out there and reach a broader audience. Case in point? Amazon has a "deals" page in their e-book section. Lots of things are either free or under $2. So I downloaded a couple of them. I had never heard of any of the authors, but the synopses sounded interesting and, hey, FREE. And, you know what? If I like these authors I will surely go and seek out further works by them. As a reader, it's virtually risk free. As a writer, it's a great marketing tool.</div><div><br /></div><div>Plus, I gotta say, it's a lot easier to curl up at night with the Kindle.</div><div><br /></div><div>Am I still on the fence about this? Yes. And I will continue to frequent my local library and buy actual, physical books. However, I think there's a big possibility that there's room for all types of technology in the bibliophile's world.</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>One thing I'm not on the fence about? This awesome gift from a dear friend.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bErTq8HDvi8/TeQbUXKxJaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/BSrTcgvy6og/s320/photo%2B%252812%2529.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612641072240993698" />In case you can't tell, it says "And then Buffy staked Edward. The end." I do love a good literary/Whedonverse joke.</div><div><br /></div></age>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804041532809758277.post-18180152288558612382011-04-13T11:43:00.000-07:002011-04-13T11:50:35.474-07:00The Agent Mulder of Love at First Sight<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>If you ever watched the X Files, then you probably get the reference in my title. If not, that's okay too. I'm simply saying that I WANT to believe in love at first sight. It's a nice notion, isn't it? Two people are so completely perfect for each other that they know it even before they speak. You know what else is a nice notion? Unicorns.<div><br /> <div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m8jUSwOFhwg/TaXwWFO_WtI/AAAAAAAAAGY/V4LCCLYCkL8/s320/unicorn.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595142374230547154" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cool, right?</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>In all seriousness, I was very curious about love at first sight. After all, most of my stories do contain some form of love. I enjoy romance. I've never experienced love at first sight, but I've also never seen an alien and I totally believe those exist. </div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, there are people out there who have experienced love at first sight and I'm lucky enough to know some of them. Check out some of their experiences (and some thoughts from naysayers) in my new article at The Zeros Before the One:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thezerosbeforetheone.com/isnt-it-romantic">Isn't it Romantic?</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Go, read, take the poll. Vote with your heart, it's totally anonymous. </div></div>Elisabeth Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14884327881096921915noreply@blogger.com1