Real Junkie

It wasn't so far back that I was a wide eyed idealistic newbie in La La Land. Well, I guess 11 years is actually a long time, but I digress. Back then there were basically 3 kinds of Network prime time tv shows: sitcoms, dramas, and news shows. There was certainly a cornucopia of programming on cable and daytime tv. But from 8 - 11pm, it was pretty set.

Now, back in the day, I was working as a production coordinator at a studio and I was asked to book some travel for a certain morning show host to go to London to shoot a gameshow pilot. OK, sure, whatever. Then I was told that this pilot was a big deal prime time show. WHAT? A gameshow in prime time. Never gonna work.

A few months later, I was at a 4th of July bar-b-q when a cheeky British guy cornered me for an hour telling me about this amazing tv show idea he had. "It's Lord of the Flies meets The Real World." Um, DUMB! Never gonna work.

Well, I guess it's a good thing that I don't greenlight shows for the big 3 networks or we'd be watching stale old sitcoms and yet another hospital/courtroom/cop drama. Had it been up to me there would be no "final answer" or "immunity idol" in our daily conversation. And, hey, maybe the world would be better off. But, damn, I'd be soooo bored.

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I have become a reality junkie. I can't get enough, and lord knows there is a smorgasbord to choose from. Yikes - I even found myself glued to freaking America's Next Top Model last week. Help. I need some sort of detox or rehab or something. My brain is turning to mush.

I'd write more, but they are about to name the next Pussycat Doll. Gotta go.

Sit on my self pity

Where are all the teenagers eager to earn a few extra bucks for sitting on my couch listening to the baby monitor while they pretend to do their homework when in fact they are actually watching R rated movies on HBO because they don't have the premium channels at home and, even if they did, their moms wouldn't let them watch R rated movies anyway?

Where are all the silver haired grandmas and aunties longing for days gone by who want to snuggle and kiss babies and say things like "in my day....?"

I don't know, but they certainly aren't knocking down my door begging to babysit. Is it because we live in La La land and people know that nannies make more than mid-level managers at major studios? Is it because teenagers today are far more interested in creating the hottest MySpace page than practicing the skills learned from all of those years of playing with a plastic baby doll?

Whatever the answer, I know one thing for sure. It's pretty darn impossible to find a decent babysitter in this town.

In 6 months, we've managed to leave the house for grown up time exactly 3 times. Twice while my mother-in-law was in town, and once through the absolute amazing generosity of the fabulous, wonderful, incredible, beautiful and talented CJ.

Other than that, our nights have been spent planted on opposite ends of the couch staring at the glowing tv, biding our time till we can go to bed without seeming like old farts.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE LOVE LOVE our little Tenacious-G. She is the light of my life and the beat of my heart. She's so freaking cute that I wonder how I ever smiled before I saw her. But I think she might like me more if I had more life experience than that which lies withing the confines of our San Fernando Valley townhouse.

For those who know me, you know I loathe office parties. Blah. Standing around making "casual" conversation with the people you work with is just not my idea of fun. Yet, I find myself incredibly bummed at the fact that I will miss our upcoming wrap party. In truth, it encompasses so many things I despise - trendy Hollywood club, inflated egos, a lame parting gift that has meaning to a select few employees who are in on the joke. Ug. Nonetheless, I worked hard and want to take advantage of the promised scrumptious hours d oeuvres and open bar.

Instead, I will surely be sitting on the same old couch that Sunday night watching the show that is being celebrated by all of my coworkers across town. While I raise the bottle full of hypoallergenic baby formula, they'll be raising glasses of champagne and toasting to a wonderful season of amazing families.

Oh well. At least I don't have to wear uncomfortable shoes and makeup. YAY.

Half Full

It's hard to believe, but the Great Pumpkin will have been part of the world population a full 6 months on Saturday.

I guess it would be appropriate to wish her "halfy birthday."