It's been several months since my last post, and wow, has a lot changed in my life.
I started a new job in the summer working at A&E TV Network in the scripted series department. It's a dream job in a field I have a lot of experience in...and even though I am not getting paid to write scripts of my own, I do get paid to read other people's scripts, watch TV, and then talk to people about what I read and watch, which is pretty cool.
Stay tuned because I miss writing and like working out, it is important to exercise this muscle everyday...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Personal Goals
I am a Capricorn, and while I don't generally subscribe to Astrology and for the most part, the typical Cap traits don't apply to me, one way that I am true to my sign is that I am a list maker.
Last night I made a new list of things to do over the next few months. These are things I could and should do every day, but I at least need to do them twice a week...or once a day if noted. But if I write them in this posting it's like a public stoning --- other's must hold me accountable for the things I've put forth...and here are those things:
1. Study for the GRE. Do I know what I want to go back to school for? Not exactly, but I know I want a master's degree in SOMETHING. Sure, call it a vanity degree. Call it a love for higher education. Call it whatever you like, but call it the late-20s blues. I am finally ready to have a true niche, and I think grad school sounds fun. The problem is, the in the TV industry, no employer/show runner/network exec. really cares if you have a professional degree. In fact, they are probably more likely to find you annoying if you waltz into a job interview with the attitude, "Hey, I have an MFA in screenwriting from USC, which is a heck of a lot more than your undergrad degree from San Diego State...but hire me anyway and I'll try to steal your job in a few years." On second thought, I am not that kind of person anyway, but seriously, the best way to get TV experience is to work in the biz, which I've done...the best way to get better at writing screen plays, which I am doing...so do I really need to go to school for this? Again, I think it sounds like fun...but is that what a MFA is supposed to be about? So maybe I should got back for a related field or something else entirely that will just make me a better human being...see a vanity degree...
So, whether I go back for a master's in creative writing, journalism, public policy, education or all of the above...I will eventually go back for something.
2. Write for at least an hour a day. I have not decided yet if this blogging counts as part of this hour a day, but let's say for now it does...I have some major revisions to deal with on my pilot script, but for now, summing up my current state on my blog seems more important...if I put my goals on paper, I am less likely to slack off...yeah, right.
3. Go to the gym. This can include going for a run on the tread mill, taking a brisk journey on the eliptical machine, or my personal fave - going to a Cardio Barre class.
4. Pray. For non-religious people, this could also mean do yoga, meditate, etc. Praying helps me stay grounded and realize that though my professional life feels muddled and confused, I actually have a great life and I should feel grateful for what I have...
So, what of these things did I do today?
I went to the gym, (tread mill: 20 minutes), prayed (in the car, on the way to the gym), and wrote...
For lunch, I had home-made tuna salad and Dorito's...which are not as good as Cheetoh's but equally as bad for you.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Friday Night Signs
It’s another Friday night in newlywed land. My husband and I are tired from a long week of working, but still decide to go out and see a movie. Atonement is playing at 7:10 at our local art-house type cinema. It’s 6:40 when we leave our house and we are both having hunger pains. Not wanting to surrender ourselves to just eating popcorn and other junk at the theatre, we decide to take the high road and go through the drive thru at Carl’s Junior. But a little credit please --- we’re not actually planning to eat burgers and criss-cut fries, although those are supremely delicious. We’re ordering from the “Green Burrito” section of the menu. It’s the first Friday of Lent so we cannot have any meat, a tough restriction when dealing with fast food options.
Our drive-thru trip was quick and painless and as we shoved the food in our mouths while speeding to the theatre, we realized we would barely arrive in time to make the movie.
We wipe the last bit of refried beans from our mouths and finish chewing, feed the parking meter, and briskly walk to the front of the theater, where, oh crap! There’s a long line stretching the length of the side walk!
We arrive at the ticket counter at about 7:15, only for the salesman to break the sad news to us that Atonement is sold out.
Partially relieved because I hate being that person to walk into the theatre late, we chuckle to ourselves about how the hastiness of our meal was now unnecessary and realize we were not destined to see a movie. Everything else showing around the same time were flicks we’d already seen.
Luckily, the local independent Pasadena bookstore, Vroman’s, was next door, open and inviting. As we walked through one of the entrances, my husband immediately cycles through the list of books that he wants to buy in his head and is already off on a mission to find them, and I stop dead in my tracks next to a Valentine’s display when I hear a loud voice coming from upstairs. Is it the voice of God himself calling to me?
For months and months I have been praying for a sign about what I am supposed to do with my life. (In truth, I’ve really been praying for this my entire life, but it’s been a more consistent plea in recent months.) I will sit in church and listen to the priest talk about using your God-given talents to do “good” in the world and I agree that this a noble cause, but the problem is, I don’t know what exactly my God given talents are. I know what I like to do, but I haven’t quite yet figured out what special things I am adept at, and which path I am supposed to follow…)
Signs are probably everywhere and all around us, without us even realizing they are there, calling to us. Last night, as I walked into the bookstore, I am standing next to my husband and I tap his shoulder. “Do you hear that?”
“No. What are you talking about?” he said.
“That manly voice, coming from upstairs. He is talking about story structure and character arc. He’s talking about creative writing.”
“Well, go check it out.” Kiko says casually, not realizing what a brilliant and foreign suggestion this seemed to be.
“But who is it behind this voice? Who is the main behind the curtain? Is anyone allowed to listen? I haven’t signed up for anything? What does this all mean?” I thought to myself.
I slowly walk up the stairs and the voice gets louder and louder, and I am holding on to every word, like it was God himself giving me instruction. “I am not a good writer. I am a hard worker. And I am vigilante rewriter.” the intelligent-sounding voice said.
I turn the corner at the top of the stairs to see about 30 chairs set up in front of a podium, with bodies occupying about half of the spaces. This man mentions something about his students, and I am fearful only for a second that all these people know each other and this is somehow a class field trip of sorts.
I forget my fear and boldly plop my little behind down in direct eye level with the speaker.
It’s a Friday night. I am a young newlywed. And I am listening to a lecture about writing at the local bookstore.
Brilliant.
He talked about how writer’s block doesn’t exist. He talked about the essential things that every good story needs, and that the most important thing you can do is to give the main character a tangible goal.
My personal goal, as I strive to find an occupation that feels meaningful to me, is to figure out what direction I am supposed to take in my life.
Do I believe in signs? Yes. I now think they are everywhere and perhaps sometimes I do not notice them.
But last night, my sign could not have been more prominently dropped in my path. Of course, the best revelations come when and where you least expect them. So why not at a bookstore on a Friday night?
I did buy the speaker’s book. I felt it only right to do so, since he helped me realize I truly am meant to be a writer and I will some day have him to thank for pointing me in the right direction.
At the end when he was signing my book, he says to me “So you’re a screen writer. Well, you’re going to make a hell of a lot more money than I ever do, so make sure you send some of that to me.”
You bet. And someday, I’ll tell him Atonement ends.
Our drive-thru trip was quick and painless and as we shoved the food in our mouths while speeding to the theatre, we realized we would barely arrive in time to make the movie.
We wipe the last bit of refried beans from our mouths and finish chewing, feed the parking meter, and briskly walk to the front of the theater, where, oh crap! There’s a long line stretching the length of the side walk!
We arrive at the ticket counter at about 7:15, only for the salesman to break the sad news to us that Atonement is sold out.
Partially relieved because I hate being that person to walk into the theatre late, we chuckle to ourselves about how the hastiness of our meal was now unnecessary and realize we were not destined to see a movie. Everything else showing around the same time were flicks we’d already seen.
Luckily, the local independent Pasadena bookstore, Vroman’s, was next door, open and inviting. As we walked through one of the entrances, my husband immediately cycles through the list of books that he wants to buy in his head and is already off on a mission to find them, and I stop dead in my tracks next to a Valentine’s display when I hear a loud voice coming from upstairs. Is it the voice of God himself calling to me?
For months and months I have been praying for a sign about what I am supposed to do with my life. (In truth, I’ve really been praying for this my entire life, but it’s been a more consistent plea in recent months.) I will sit in church and listen to the priest talk about using your God-given talents to do “good” in the world and I agree that this a noble cause, but the problem is, I don’t know what exactly my God given talents are. I know what I like to do, but I haven’t quite yet figured out what special things I am adept at, and which path I am supposed to follow…)
Signs are probably everywhere and all around us, without us even realizing they are there, calling to us. Last night, as I walked into the bookstore, I am standing next to my husband and I tap his shoulder. “Do you hear that?”
“No. What are you talking about?” he said.
“That manly voice, coming from upstairs. He is talking about story structure and character arc. He’s talking about creative writing.”
“Well, go check it out.” Kiko says casually, not realizing what a brilliant and foreign suggestion this seemed to be.
“But who is it behind this voice? Who is the main behind the curtain? Is anyone allowed to listen? I haven’t signed up for anything? What does this all mean?” I thought to myself.
I slowly walk up the stairs and the voice gets louder and louder, and I am holding on to every word, like it was God himself giving me instruction. “I am not a good writer. I am a hard worker. And I am vigilante rewriter.” the intelligent-sounding voice said.
I turn the corner at the top of the stairs to see about 30 chairs set up in front of a podium, with bodies occupying about half of the spaces. This man mentions something about his students, and I am fearful only for a second that all these people know each other and this is somehow a class field trip of sorts.
I forget my fear and boldly plop my little behind down in direct eye level with the speaker.
It’s a Friday night. I am a young newlywed. And I am listening to a lecture about writing at the local bookstore.
Brilliant.
He talked about how writer’s block doesn’t exist. He talked about the essential things that every good story needs, and that the most important thing you can do is to give the main character a tangible goal.
My personal goal, as I strive to find an occupation that feels meaningful to me, is to figure out what direction I am supposed to take in my life.
Do I believe in signs? Yes. I now think they are everywhere and perhaps sometimes I do not notice them.
But last night, my sign could not have been more prominently dropped in my path. Of course, the best revelations come when and where you least expect them. So why not at a bookstore on a Friday night?
I did buy the speaker’s book. I felt it only right to do so, since he helped me realize I truly am meant to be a writer and I will some day have him to thank for pointing me in the right direction.
At the end when he was signing my book, he says to me “So you’re a screen writer. Well, you’re going to make a hell of a lot more money than I ever do, so make sure you send some of that to me.”
You bet. And someday, I’ll tell him Atonement ends.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Home Alone
I am a big wimp. I admit it. I don't think I like staying home alone. When I was a kid, staying home alone was a thrill. I could consume all the Cool Ranch Doritos and Cream Soda I wanted! In high school, I spent a lot of weekends home alone as my parents went to watch my brother play in the NCAA College Baseball tournament. I wasn't a bad teenage girl, but certainly would have a few friends over to keep me company...
During and after college, when I lived in apartments with roommates, when they would all be out of town at the same time, while lonely at times, it was relaxing to have some me-time...I could watch whatever I wanted on TV (probably Bev. Hills, 90210) and walk around in mis-matched PJs or a mud-mask and not have to worry about who a roommate might be bringing home.
Now that my husband and I have our own house and I've lost the security of an apartment building, (that either came from having lots of people around or being on the second floor,) I get so nervous staying home by myself.
It is a fear that I am aware of and dealing with because it seems a little ridiculous...why fear something like that? We have an alarm system and a dog and neighbors close by who are always home and ready to step in if necessary...with various weapons, we are told...
Still, it's more of a personal comfort-level issue. No matter in my head how safe I know I am, I still feel uneasy when my husband is gone for the night. Last week, I even booby trapped the front door using the dog crate, skis and several duffel bags. This would have severely slowed down an intruder; I am convinced. I also made sure to have a baseball bat and a Japanese Kendo sword nearby, just in case someone got past the booby trapped front door and tried to rumble with me.
I am now used to having my husband sleep beside me and I feel the feminist inside me trying to keep me from saying this...but yes, I do feel safer when he is around. Damn it. I am sorry. It's true. I like having a man around the house.
Of course, there are those moments when he's gone when I can blast the Flashdance soundtrack and leap around the house, or eat Oreos for breakfast without someone giving me the stink eye. But in general, I am happier when he's around...
And this is after 7 months + of marriage...we'll see if I still feel the same a year from now...(wink)
During and after college, when I lived in apartments with roommates, when they would all be out of town at the same time, while lonely at times, it was relaxing to have some me-time...I could watch whatever I wanted on TV (probably Bev. Hills, 90210) and walk around in mis-matched PJs or a mud-mask and not have to worry about who a roommate might be bringing home.
Now that my husband and I have our own house and I've lost the security of an apartment building, (that either came from having lots of people around or being on the second floor,) I get so nervous staying home by myself.
It is a fear that I am aware of and dealing with because it seems a little ridiculous...why fear something like that? We have an alarm system and a dog and neighbors close by who are always home and ready to step in if necessary...with various weapons, we are told...
Still, it's more of a personal comfort-level issue. No matter in my head how safe I know I am, I still feel uneasy when my husband is gone for the night. Last week, I even booby trapped the front door using the dog crate, skis and several duffel bags. This would have severely slowed down an intruder; I am convinced. I also made sure to have a baseball bat and a Japanese Kendo sword nearby, just in case someone got past the booby trapped front door and tried to rumble with me.
I am now used to having my husband sleep beside me and I feel the feminist inside me trying to keep me from saying this...but yes, I do feel safer when he is around. Damn it. I am sorry. It's true. I like having a man around the house.
Of course, there are those moments when he's gone when I can blast the Flashdance soundtrack and leap around the house, or eat Oreos for breakfast without someone giving me the stink eye. But in general, I am happier when he's around...
And this is after 7 months + of marriage...we'll see if I still feel the same a year from now...(wink)
Saturday, January 19, 2008
First Christmas as a Mrs!
I love Christmas...I love everything about it...I love the lights, the decorations, the shopping (I even don't mind the lines), baking Christmas cookies, going to church and watching the decorations for the Christmas services gradually appear throughout the month of December, the chill in the air, (even in Southern California), the wider smiles on people's faces because they can't deny the infectious holiday spirit...I pretty much love it all!
But I have to say my first Christmas as a Mrs. brought some new elements to my holiday...splitting time between my family and my in-laws. Ugh! What a pain! My husband and I dated for over 6 years before we got married, and while we sometimes would stop by each other's family's houses for Christmas, we never actually spent the entire holidays together. His parents are divorced and we are fortunate that his dad and stepmother live only 30 minutes from my parents, so we can easily combine gatherings or see both families in one day. But his mother lives in Northern California and it is quite a drive which makes sharing the holidays very difficult!
Luckily, everything worked out pretty well, but we just ended up feeling exhausted. It's almost like you need a vacation after your vacation because you spend the whole time travelling and trying to squeeze as much quality time in with everyone you forget to rest and enjoy the time off work.
Still for me, there is that persistent Catholic guilt that makes me feel like we spend too much time with my family and not enough time with his...but when he doesn't put up a fight to make plans with his family, what can I do but acquiesce with the plans my two brothers have already made with my parents.
I just can't wait till we have our own kids and we are forced to stay and have Christmas with them in our home and everyone can come to us!
As you can see, I am quite behind in my post and one of my new year's resolutions is to write more about my newlywed experiences...
Happy New Year!
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