I Feel so Alone

I'm trying to work through a rewrite of a tv series proposal. My screenwriting teacher says that I'm not doing enough to communicate what demographic it's for, and that producers will absolutely want to know that without question. Okay. I know why he has trouble with it. I know exactly why. I'm just not sure what to do about it. He thinks it would make an awesome show but without the demo, I couldn't get it produced.

The real problem is that it's for my demographic. Unfortunately, "39 going on 10" is not an official demo, and apparently there aren't enough of us to warrant the money, so I have to maybe weasel it as a collegiate hit. Urg. Well, I guess that tomorrow will be a big scribble in the margins day.

Yarn Shopping

I'm about to start knitting a cute little top. It has beaded trim around the edges. I just came from the yarn store. The one little skein of yarn that I'm using to make the trim costs more than I would want to pay for a cute little top. Ah well. I'm paying for the joy of making the cute little top, in the color I like, in my measurements. So there. Pffft!

Dude, either hire me or cut it out.

Okay, this is getting to be too much now. In Craig Ferguson's monologue last night, he did a comedic sexy voice saying "Have another piece of cake. It's delicious. Have some more carrot cake with the forbidden icing." Carrot cake for goodness sakes! I've written entire dialogues about carrot cake! Now of course, I do it waaaaaaaaay better, but still! If he's going to use my stuff, he needs to learn to do it right. The night before, he was talking about naughty librarians! I wonder if someone on his staff reads JT. Haha, right. No, it's my brainwaves. They infiltrate. I'll have to wear one of those aluminum foil hats to keep them where they belong. I bet that would go over well at a pitch meeting. At least I'd look like many of the other people in Los Angeles. Perfectly normal.

I Looked in the Box

Yup, there's gobos in there alright, and they aren't in Las Vegas. I'm just not going to think about it. They will leave my car the same way they got in, and that's that. (Even though my kids want to play with them.)

Who am I Kidding?

Every day I think that it would be nice if I were asleep by midnight. Yeah, right. That only happens if I can't keep my eyes open. Otherwise, I'm busy. Today I thought "yep, midnight tonight". Nope. I have stuff to write, laundry to do, and while both of those are going on, I'm gonna catch me some Robot Chicken on the TIVO. It's reSEARCH.

Weird Day

Yesterday I noticed a mysterious box in the back of my car. It is labeled "Hairspray Las Vegas Gobos". That's probably not good.

On the other hand, I caught a ball with my cleavage. My 3yo found it quite entertaining.

My Child is Crazy, but in a Good Way

My five-year-old is writing a book. It's about a guy who gets hit by lightning. It's a direct hit. All that's left is a scorch mark on the ground. His loved ones naturally assume that he was vaporized, but in reality, the lightning teleported him. So he's in the McDonald's in the next town, confused, and he's trying to get someone to pick him up, but they don't understand because they think he's dead. They think that "McDonald's in Milford" is the name of the place where dead people go. They figure it's a ghostly phone call from beyond the grave and just don't know what to make of it.

The illustrations are so adorable and hilarious.

There is but one punishment for setting alight the mando-shaped beacon...

Yes, that is my mandolin, shining atop Castle Anthrax. This is what I get for using Zoot as a screen name. Musicians are quite silly.

Happy Billy-Bob Everyone!

Once I dreamed that Thursday was changed to Billy-Bob. The rest of the days of the week were called the same thing that they are now, it's just Thursday that was changed. So I told some of my friends about that dream and they started using it. We'd have emails that said things like "Are you free for dinner on Tuesday? If not, I can do Billy-Bob too." It was weird. They got over it eventually. Every once in a while it creeps up on me though, so happy Billy-Bob.

They're Conspiring

This was a special goof that I did a while ago for Shannon, but I figured I might as well stick it here:

DENNIS: Okay, so you take down the big guy and I'll take the other one.

CRAIG: Why do I have to get the big guy?

DENNIS: You want the short chick, right?

CRAIG: Yeah.

DENNIS: Well guess which one she's married to.

CRAIG: Fuck!

DENNIS: Heh. Sucker.

CRAIG: You know, that other guy looks pretty big too. Especially compared to your skinny ass.

DENNIS: Yeah? You think you can take my skinny ass?

CRAIG: Yeah, I do. HEY! They're getting away! SHIT!

DENNIS: GODDAMMIT! HEY! HOT TAP DANCING CHICK! COME BACK!

CRAIG: Well, now what're we gonna do?

DENNIS: Okay, don't panic. Here's plan B. I come back on the show and you have Naked Week.

CRAIG: Ooh yeah, that'll get their attention. (rubs hands with evil glee)

I Give Up

Quite a while ago, as in six months to a year, (can't remember) I bought a carbon fiber bow. I have not yet gotten to try it out. It's reconditioned, so I don't know if it's got new hair or it was just cleaned, but in any case, it is completely clean, and I have spent an hour and a half trying to put rosin on it, and I still can't get any sound out of it. I only wanted to practice for a half hour or so. I have to get up relatively early tomorrow to get my kids where they need to be on time, otherwise I would stay up and conquer the damn thing! I remember going through this with my old bow. Grrrrr. Frustrating. On the plus side, Grandpa's mando sounds great.

Today's Meaningless Chatter

There are few activities (barring medical situations) that I find more unpleasant than changing strings. Mandolins have twice as many strings as fiddles. Yippee. So far, nothing has snapped and given me a major gash, but I do have two small cuts and some dents in my fingers. I think a little WD-40 might help. These are old pegs. At least they don't wind to the inside of the instrument. I have to say, whoever designed violins like that was just plain deranged. Well, four strings on, four to go. Then commence tuning. Ugh.

And my favorite conversation of the day-

3yo: Mom, are you going to die?
Me: Not at the moment.
3yo: When are you going to die?
Me: I don't know. Why?
3yo: Well, you're fat. You could die.
Me: I'm not fat.
3yo: You look fat.
Me: Gee thanks.
9yo: She's not fat, she just needs a better bra.
5yo: Yeah. She has big boobies, that's all. They make her look fat.

I just can't win today.

LOL!

Check this out. Not for the article, but for the picture that goes with it. I wonder if the person who put it up had any idea what he or she was looking at. I'm sure the photographer did. I'm starting to think I'd like L.A. It has its own charm.


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18969221/