Don't any of you people work?

The partner and I are creating a sitcom pilot. It's a workplace ensemble comedy that we had actually written before that has recently been resurrected. And we just recently realized one of our biggest mistakes in the original version - our people actually worked.

This may sound funny for a workplace comedy, but take a look at Just Shoot Me, NewsRadio, Drew Carey Show, etc. You'll find that there is very little work that happens at those places. The comedy comes from the characters interacting with each other. It's an interesting lesson to learn. You could take those characters and put them in any type of business and they'd be just as funny.

So we're working on taking the work out of our workplace comedy. ;-)

Peals of laughter

Baby Girl laughed out loud last night. A beautiful ringing peal of actual laughter. She's been smiling and cooing for a while now, but this is the first real laugh. It made us all laugh, then I almost cried. Motherhood is so weird.

Who is this Pooh?

What is the deal with Winnie the Pooh? Since when did he become the go-to character for kids clothes? It's not like there's a choice of cartoon characters and Pooh is just one of them. Walk into any baby store and it's generic duckies or Winnie the Pooh.

The thing that I find really strange is that it's all about Winnie the Pooh and his honey fetish. But honey is totally forbidden for babies. So Winnie the Pooh is really the botulism bear.

Maybe it's a nostalgia thing and I don't get it since I wasn't a big Winnie the Pooh fan. Give me Dr. Suess any day. Or my other favorites: Where the Wild Things Are and Henrietta, the Wild Woman of Borneo.

Oh Pooh, why do you torture me?

Grandma got run over by a big grin...

Baby Girl met her North Dakota grandma for the first time last night. The minute BG saw Grandma, she grinned from ear to ear. She sure knows where her bread is buttered! She and grandma have been having long, involved conversations. I believe they go something like, squeal, grunt, coo, then Grandma translates. It's pretty funny to watch. It's really nice to have an extra set of hands, especially ones that are so experienced. ND grandma has six kids and five other grandkids. Baby Girl is one lucky kid for the next two weeks!

How to get an agent - Part 1

One of the first questions I'm asked by other writers when they find out what I do is, how do I get an agent? The age-old answer to this question is...write a great script. But what the hell does that mean? How do you know when you've written a great script?

Now I can't answer that for you (and I sure as hell can't read your script), but I can try to point you in the right direction. First of all, if this is your first script ever? It's not good. Trust me. You think it's great but it's not. Put it away in a drawer and write another one. Then another. Then pull that first one out of the drawer. Grimace in embarrassment.

Don't worry, we all have one of those in our closet. My first script was funny but I forgot to include things like three-dimensional characters, dialog that wasn't on-the-nose, oh, and an actual plot.

Next, make a list of your favorite films of all time. Find the scripts to those films and read them. If your favorite films aren't exactly Oscar-winners, then read a few Oscar-winning scripts as well. Now you know what a professional script looks like.

Think your script is ready now? Not quite. Please, for the love of god, spell check it! And I don't mean just using the computer program. That doesn't catch there, their and they're or other words that are spelled right but still very wrong.

I'll never forget the script I read that had a drug dealer trying to sell "hope" to an undercover cop. While that may be a really interesting image, I don't think it's what the writer was going for.

If your spelling and grammar skills aren't the best, find someone whose are. Hell, ask your old high school English teacher to take a look. Anyone!

And, yes, I know that there are professional writers who can't spell worth a damn. But you're not a pro yet. Why give anyone another reason to dismiss your writing? It's just lazy.

So, now you think your script is the best that you can possibly do? Then you're on to the next step. Which I'll continue in a second post. How's that for a cliffhanger?

Thank you!

Baby Girl wanted to thank everyone for reading my blog. Is it any wonder I can't do anything but stare at her? I'm also using this as my latest thank you note. It says it all.

Porn Star Boobs

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Yes, this post is about breasts, ta-tas, melons, jugs, fun bags, heaving bosoms, expanded mammary glands...

I went for a walk the other day in a tank top (thanks to the unbelievably scary warm LA weather) and I looked down to see these massive knockers bouncing around. OK, if you know what I look like, you'll laugh because I am still just a B cup, but my boobs scare me these days. I can't seem to get used to these milk-filled mama-jamas.

Although most days I don't get to enjoy them, as Baby Girl seems to think she owns them. That's one thing that having a baby does make you realize - your boobs are no longer your own. They've moved from fun to functional. I wander around the house, in front of open windows, naked boobies flapping in the breeze.

I've even carried Baby Girl while she feeds, like the monkeys at the zoo. Who cares if the neighbors see you? They're just jugs of milk, right?

Sometimes I do have moments where I wonder if that's all I am to Baby Girl - a couple of milk bags for her enjoyment. Then the hubby hands her to me and she gives me a big smile when that nipple gets in her sights.

Just call me Boobsie McMilkinstein.

I swear..

I'm going to write something about screenwriting soon. I actually started a post about getting an agent 2 weeks ago and I'm still working on it. It's getting so long, it may end up being 2 parts. Other than that, I'll try to make something exciting happen that I can write about. Right now, Baby Girl is the coolest thing around so it's hard to focus on anything else. The writing partner and I have some things to accomplish this week though so maybe something funny will happen.

Only in LA

I had a truly LA experience last night. First off, we left Baby Girl with a babysitter for the very first time. Not that it was too traumatic since our babysitter is also our doula, helped us out as a baby nurse during the first week, and is a good friend of ours.

Anyway, we had a babysitter so the hubby and I and a friend could go check out a new restaurant. Of course, this being LA, it wasn't just any restaurant. That's right, we used up part of our "15 minutes" by dining in a reality show restaurant.

Although that sounds like someplace where you'd be served by reality show has-beens (that's really ANY restaurant in LA), it was actually a reality show that revolves around a restaurant.

We had to sign a confidentiality agreement so I can't really go into details, but suffice it to say that a very angry celebrity chef spent a lot of the night cursing and berating his hapless staff of wannabe chefs. It was a really bizarre and hysterical evening.

When the show starts to air, I'll let you all know what episode we were at, even though there's not really a chance in hell you'll see us on screen. So much for my fame whoring...

Baby Insomnia

I read somewhere that babies sleep 18 out of 24 hours. HA! Baby Girl's got it backwards. She sleeps maybe 6 out of 24 hours. I think it was Rodney Dangerfield who said, "I slept like a baby last night. I woke up every 20 minutes and cried." The weird thing is that she sleeps fine at night.

Our schedule goes something like: midnight - finally asleep, 3 am - eat, then sleep, 6 am - eat, then sleep, 8:30 am - eat, then sleep, 20 minutes later - cry, cuddle, rock, bounce, swing, shoosh, eat, sleep, 20 minutes later - cry, cuddle, rock, bounce, swing, shoosh, eat, sleep, repeat until insanity begins or midnight, whichever comes sooner.

I'm actually doing OK with the lack of sleep but the baby looks like a long-haul trucker, all swollen bloodshot eyes with bags under them. She's gotta be high as a kite on adrenaline.

The hubby keeps saying that it means she's brilliant because Leonardo da Vinci only slept 20 minutes at a time. She's certainly acting like every turn at my nipple is The Last Supper. Ba-duh-bump. Man, I need to get some sleep!

Superbowl Sunday

Baby Girl is ready for the game! Although she really watches for the commercials.



Man, every time I take her picture, I feel like I'm traumatizing her for life. What's with the petrified look on her face?

Who's your daddy?!?

The hubby's mom sent us some baby photos of him and I guess we know who Baby Girl looks like now. Good lord!