I'm Just Going to Say It: Vampires Shouldn't Sparkle

What? They shouldn't! Vampires are evil creatures of the undead. Sparkly creatures need not apply.

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:

Top Ten Fictional Female Role Models That Are Better Than Twilight's Bella Swan

Pencil Skirts, Day Drinking and Mad Men

Oh, 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?

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.

New Fall 2011 Trend: Chivalry

Choose Your Own (Life) Adventure

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.

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.

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.

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...

What if I'd joined the Peace Corps like I'd wanted to? How would my life be different?

What if we'd never left Chicago?

What if I'd studied abroad?

What if I'd gotten my master's degree?

And so on and so forth.

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!

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.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives. Hope you're happy with your adventure.

Our New Little Addition

The Boyfriend and I have been together for a good long tme. 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 come. We were going to make that commitment. We were going to expand our family.

We were going to adopt a dog.

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.

(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 this to be the reality for their four legged friend.)

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.

Our research lead us to Pug Rescue of San Diego County. 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.

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.

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.

It'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!

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.

Days of the Week Dating

Does 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:

The Etiquette of the Social Network.

Ironically, I wrote this article before I joined Twitter. Now I have to learn those rules, too. Tips are appreciated.

A Hollywood Urban Legend.

The following story is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

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.

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.

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.

"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."

"I want to have dinner with Bob Redford. No, I don't know him. Make it happen."

"Make sure that I'm not sitting next to a fat person on the plane."

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.

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.

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.

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.

Charlotte, where ever you are, whoever you are, we salute you.

Would I Jump Off a Bridge If Everyone Else Was Doing It?

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:

Elisabeth Fitzgerald on Twitter

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.

Think Before You Speak

Hey, 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.

However.

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.

Stick and Stones May Break My Bones...And Words Can Hurt, Too

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.

I'll Take Door #2, Please

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.

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!

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.

Online Dating and Catholic Mothers

What 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.

Warning! Deleting This Dating Profile May Lead to a Solitary Life and Dying Alone

Does this count as a science experiment?

Table for One

While 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.

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.

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.

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.

I've never been to the movies by myself. I kind of want to see HORRIBLE BOSSES. Hmm...

Industry As A Second Language

Hollywood 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.

Hollywood Lingo

Click the link above to check out the article I wrote for Commentarista about surviving Hollywood speak. Don't worry, there's no quiz.

Give me a T! Give me a V!

I really could sub-head this post: The Things I Do for Money.

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.

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.

Except.

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:

And this is me:

I should probably sit in the back next time.

The Name Game

It 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?

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.

What's in a Name?

Part of the raw food movement?

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?

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.

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?

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:

"Calm down. You look petrified."

Strike two for me.

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.

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."

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.

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.

I cheerfully bounced out of the restaurant, smiling at the staff that I passed. Once again, they shouted at us.

"GOOD BYE! THANK YOU!" I shouted back. The Boyfriend shook his head.

Strike three for me.

Is It Time for Me To Accept the Inevitable?

It was my birthday on Friday. Even though I'm [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.

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.

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.

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.

So, you can see why I approached the Kindle with extreme caution. I mean, it's nice. 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.

Or is it?

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.

Plus, I gotta say, it's a lot easier to curl up at night with the Kindle.

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.

One thing I'm not on the fence about? This awesome gift from a dear friend.

In case you can't tell, it says "And then Buffy staked Edward. The end." I do love a good literary/Whedonverse joke.

The Agent Mulder of Love at First Sight

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.

Cool, right?

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.

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:

Isn't it Romantic?

Go, read, take the poll. Vote with your heart, it's totally anonymous.

Siempre Selena!

We all have our things, don't we? Our "Fandoms," if you will. I have a friend that's completely devoted to all things Star Wars. Another sees every Johnny Depp movie the day it comes out. For me, it's Tejano singer Selena.

Maybe you've heard of her. Selena was immensely famous when she was killed in 1995 at the age of 23. Her death shocked her legions of fans. Her posthumous album "Dreaming of You" went straight to number one and the movie about her live launched Jennifer Lopez's career.

So, today, I remember Selena and all she meant to her fans. To me, she represented all that could be accomplished while still being a good person. Selena was never mean, and always had a smile for everyone. She knew that she was a role model for many young girls and she took that very seriously. She was a bright star that dimmed too quickly. Selena vive para siempre!

The Unbearable Craziness of Being in Love

Sometimes we behave in ways that we're...less than proud of when we're in love. Blame it on the hormones, blame it on the pheromones, blame it on the alcohol. Whatever it is, it can turn normal people into love crazed maniacs! So, of course, I had to write about it. Check out my latest article for the hilarious relationship blog The Zeros Before the Ones.

Crazy in Love or Just Plain Crazy?

It's super fun, I promise. I talk about these two chuckleheads.

And whether or not a pair of these can change your life.

Go on! It's a fun way to procrastinate.

The Best Gift I Ever Received

Confession time: I'm not the most forthcoming person when it comes to my writing. As you may have guessed, Elisabeth Fitzgerald isn't my real name and I'm always hesitant to proclaim "I am a writer!" I don't know why. I AM a writer. There is no question about that. I suppose, when it comes down to brass tacks, I am afraid of judgement. Not necessarily judgement from strangers (please, agents, judge me! Read my work! I'm begging you!) but judgement from people that I consider to be my friends.

You're probably wondering what the heck this has to do with my best present ever. I'm getting to that, I swear. The one person that I was never shy to share my work with was my maternal grandmother. She was SO PROUD of everything that I did. Case in point: when I was very young, probably about 7 or 8, my grandma went into the hospital for a routine procedure and I decided to write her a story to cheer her up (I had already decided that my purpose in life was to write).

Of course, being a child, I had no concept of why people went into the hospital. My mom had gone once and had returned home with my little sister. I was pretty sure that my grandma wasn't going to bring home a baby, but beyond that... So I went with the one disease that every kid understands: tonsillitis. You know, the one where you got to eat tons of ice cream? Okay, that wasn't my grandma's problem either, but it was more interesting than a dumb old baby.

Little Me proudly wrote a story about a girl named Nancy (even at that age I was obsessed with A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET) who got her tonsils out. It all turned out for the best, because Nancy was super brave and got lots of love and ice cream after her surgery.

That simple little book, written in red crayon and complete with stick figure drawings, hung on my grandmother's wall until she died seven years later. She was proud of my little story and proud of my accomplishments. That, in turn, made me proud.

My grandma was also responsible for my all time best gift. She had the habit of giving all the grandchildren presents on birthdays, even if it wasn't your birthday. She didn't want anyone to feel left out. So, one year for my sister's birthday my grandmother slipped a box into my lap. It was a shirt box, like the kind you'd get from Marshall Field's or Carson's. But it was what was inside that made me so happy...

Writing supplies.

Remember, this was before the age of computers (yeah, I'm the last generation that pre-dates the internet) and I was a child. I wrote by hand. Pen to paper. And that was just what my grandma had given me. A box full of notebooks and pens (blue and black!) not to mention a binder, fasteners and paper reinforcers. It was a simple gift, to be sure. It was also one of the most touching gifts I've ever received and it's only as an adult that I realized why. My grandmother knew the real me. She was encouraging my writing, even with this simple gesture. It's like she said: "Go, create."

So now I shall. Thanks, Grandma.

My maternal grandparents...the most special people a girl could have been blessed with.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, But They're All Dead by February 17th (So Why the Valentine's Day Hype?)

So, it's Valentine's Day. You'd think, as an enjoyer of silly love songs, a watcher of sitcoms and a reader/writer of pink-covered, girly books that I would be all about the V-Day.

You'd think wrong.

Yeah, Valentine's Day just doesn't do it for me. When I'm coupled I feel just as "Meh" about it as I did when I was single. It started out as a religious holiday (honoring a saint that was beheaded, fyi), but the rampant commercialism has made it feel cheap. It seems like a day that's made for us to feel "less than." No boyfriend? LESS THAN! No date? LESS THAN! No flowers? LESS THAN!

Frankly, I've got enough in my life making me feel "less than." I don't need Hallmark to do it, too. That's why I was honored when The Zeros Before the One asked me to write an article about how to make it through Valentine's Day unscathed. It can be done! Read the call to action here:

How to Prevent Your Own Personal Valentine's Day Massacre

Let's avoid this today.

Unless it's in your DVD player, of course.

Not with a Whisper, but with a Shout

I'm not what you would call a religious person. I suppose I'd probably be spiritual, at best, but the idea of God raises a lot of questions for me.

But sometimes there are signs. And I think I've received a few this week.

I've been stalled on my WIP. It's like it ran out of gas. I've tried to work around it, writing other projects, considering scenes from other points of view, etc. Unfortunately, nothing has really jarred my imagination. You know what finally got me moving?

Rejection.

Yup, you read that right. This week I have received 2 rejection letters for my novel BECOMING MAGDALENE, from agents that I queried nearly six months ago. It sparked something inside me. Some little voice said "Oh, hey, remember this! It's called being a writer. You TOTALLY do this!"

And, you know what? I totally do.

Sometimes the best motivation is someone telling you "no."

ROW ~ Check in Fourth the Win! #lamepun

First off, I apologise for the incredibly lame joke. I'm feeling punny tonight.

Yeah, I apologise for that one too.

This week went pretty well, if I do say so myself. I think my routine has adjusted itself to be a Monday-Friday one. That's okay. I write on the weekends, just not as much. It's working for me and that's the point, right?

PS Did anyone else watch the Golden Globes tonight? And, if you did, did you think that the fashion theme was Dynasty-Meets-the-Golden-Girls? Can't wait to see who brings the crazy to the Oscars.

ROW 80 ~ Third Check In...It's Like an Antibiotic, Right?

If you miss your goal one day, you make it up the next, right? I've been trying to get back on track this week. So far, so good. The only problem is that I am at a sticking point in my story, so it's hard to get enthused. I figure that the only thing I can do is write myself out of this slump. Here's hoping I'm batting a thousand for the next check in (is that good? I don't know baseball).

ROW80 Check In #2 ~ Or, the One Where I Fall Off a Bit

Well, perhaps I shouldn't have jumped the proverbial gun. I did a lot of writing for the ROW80 Second Check In, but I did not accomplish my goal every day. Want my laundry list of excuses?

1. I was sick (I was! And I also had the NyQuil hangover that goes along with trying to make yourself better).

2. I was seeing Ben Affleck! Come on, that gives me some points, right?

3. My bestie was in from Vegas. So, we did the brunching, shopping, tattooing thing (her, not me. Tattoos look extremely painful).

So, those are my excuses as to why I missed a day and a half on my goals. And you know what? None of them are really good or acceptable. Writers write. I apologise. I will be better this week. I promise! Onward and upward.

Overheard in LA and a Nerd Alert

You know those conversations that you always hear about but never actually hear for yourself? They're so funny that you think the person telling you about them must be making them up. Well, my friends, I assure you I am not making this up.

Overheard in Los Angeles (and, it must be noted, said in an extremely braggy tone):

"Well, I was talking to Naomi Watts, she comes into my Coffee Bean all the time, and she said that the script went through a ton of changes."

Maybe you had to be there, but this was hilarious. The overwhelming "Know It All" tone turned an innocuous sentence into something that struck me (and my companion) as beyond hilarious. Only in LA.

Speaking of things that only happen in LA, would you allow me a brief nerd moment? Thank you. Okay, here's my full confession. I love Ben Affleck. Love him. I've loved him since GOOD WILL HUNTING and I am nothing if not loyal. I held on through GIGLI and DAREDEVIL and I'm thrilled that he's getting some recognition as a director. There was a special screening of THE TOWN last night (have you seen it? See it, it's awesome, and it also has Jon Hamm) and my future husband was doing a Q & A after. My dear friend called me as soon as she heard about this event and we immediately bought tickets (it should be noted that my awesome friend is not a huge Affleck fan but she is, as previously stated, an awesome friend).

We got there early and got seats near the front. That's right. I was less than 20 feet from BEN. He looked at tad homeless, but still gorgy.

I'm not the type that goes gaga over celebs (it would make work difficult), but there's always that one that makes your hands shake a little. Who is it for you?

ROW 80 ~ Check In, the First

The first 5 days of A Round of Word in 80 Days is complete. 75 days left!

I'm proud to say that I've met my goal for each day, so far. I certainly hope I can keep up this up. One of my Not Quite Resolutions for 2011 is to finish the first draft of my WIP...and come up with a decent title. I'm terrible at titles.

I'm also terrible at blogging today. So sorry. I seem to have come down with a touch of la gripe. I assume this is from my boss coming to work with the plague. Oh, well. I'll be back on my feet by Sunday (hopefully).