Yesterday I took 13 kids on a field trip to visit Pepperdine University, where the Cinemagic folks put together a cool presentation for young filmmakers. Cinemagic is an Irish group that started as a film festival and has grown to be an educational powerhouse for young filmmakers in the UK. Now they make regular trips to the US to do presentations.

So naturally, when I heard about the opportunity, I jumped on. I will be assigning short film scripts later this year, and hopefully following that up with mini films, so I chose the kids who went by who wanted to be project leaders on the assignment.

We saw three short films - one from a Pepperdine film student and two from teenagers in the Cinemagic group. That was some really impressive filmmaking from high-school age kids. The college kid's film was fun, and he followed up with a Q&A, which I know did my kids some good. They learned a lot. I did chuckle a bit when the director talked about how this 10-minute film took him an incredibly long time to write - two weeks.

At one point the presenters asked how many of us want to make films. I raised my hand, as did most of the kids in the room. How many want to be writers? Of course I raised my hand. How many of you want to make comedies? I raised my hand. One of my students said "Put your hand down, Miss, you don't do comedy." So much they don't know.

We got to sit in the control room while a group of college kids put together a show called Buenos Noches, Pepperdine. That was cool. Never been in a control room before.

But then came the kicker. The one and only Pierce Motherfucking Brosnan showed up and sat right fucking in front of me to do a Q&A. They showed some clips from Manions of America, Mrs. Doubtfire, The Ghost Writer, and Goldeneye. During the scene from Mrs. Doubtfire, during which he stood in all his hottest glory, tight chest exposed on a diving board for all to see, the older Pierce called out: "I'm still the same!"

Here he is right in front of me, talking on the phone to Joe Sargent, getting permission to show Manions to the kiddies. I did not take this picture, but the student who did was kind enough to send it to me:





He's still so damn cool. 


He really pushed the kids to stay in school because he wishes he had, and he talked about the process of working with a great director. He said the best thing a director can do is leave him alone and let him do his thing.

So it was a nifty experience. The kids seem to have gotten a lot out of it.

Last weekend a friend mentioned he was going to a "drink along" screening of The Lost Boys and The Goonies. How could I not go? Actually I thought about flaking because I had already had like the busiest day ever (pep rally, unrelated assembly, dentist appointment), but I already paid for my $10 ticket so I went.

The Downtown Independent, which is, of course, located in Downtown LA next to the Civic Center, occasionally hold drink along film screenings. What is a drink-along screening, you ask? Good question.

With your ticket you get A beer - in this case, a Tecate, which is acceptable. You can always buy more beer in the lobby. On this night they were selling more cans of Tecate 2 for $6. Then they ran out and sold whatever was in the fridge.

Anyway, so it's a drinking game. In the case of Lost Boys, any time someone caved to peer pressure, did anything super eighties, had anything to do with vampires, or said the dog's name you took a drink. And naturally a few people reminded us all to drink, so any time Michael caves to peer pressure - which is a lot - half the audience would yell out "PEER PRESSURE!" and we'd all drink.

I had to drive, so I took teeny tiny sips, and then a woman on her way to the bathroom knocked my entire beer to the floor with her purse and disappeared without so much as an Oops, so I took tinier sips.

By the end of the movie, though, a lot of people were good and wasted. Intermission. A beer pong game kicked up in the lobby. A mariachi band came into the theater to play for some guy's birthday. A girl almost kicked a fat guy's ass.

While two members of a group of four were in the lobby waiting for beer, the fat guy and his date took their seats and refused to move. The manager spent ten minutes trying to reason with them while the whole crowd looked on and shouted "MOVE" repeatedly. Eventually they moved and we all cheered, but then the chick with the guys whose seats they stole stood up and called him an asshole. But he was never going to fight her. He was a nerdy fella. She would have beat his ass.

So then we watched The Goonies. This time we drank when Mikey took a puff of his inhaler, when anybody spoke Spanish, when anybody said Willy... I don't remember if those were the real drinking cues. By this point people were just shouting things and drinking. Oh such fun. I highly recommend it. I don't know how often they do it, but I know they are planning something for Halloween. I'll probably go.

Saturday night the Beefcake and I headed down to the Egyptian to watch a 25th anniversary screening of Manhunter, followed by a Q&A with Michael Mann.

So first, interesting things he said:

-He worked on the script for Heat for quite a while before he realized the final image of a dying man holding the hand of the man who shot him. Then he reverse engineered the script to make that happen.

-If there was one world he'd go back to, it would be Last of the Mohicans. He would never go back to something as dark as Manhunter if he can help it.

-During the final shootout in Manhunter, they had no money and no time, so Michael Mann held the camera himself, shot a sequence of the gunfight, then cut, burned a hole into Tom Noonan's shirt, then called action again. And that's how he shot it - like a low budget indie with himself as camera operator.

-Tom Noonan is a weird dude. Michael Mann said this: "Well, you know, he's from North Carolina, so...." What the fuck, Michael Mann?

So now, the real point to this post.

I have been to a lot of Q&As in my time since moving to Los Angeles, and I have heard some stupid fucking questions, but I have never heard questions as idiotic as the ones I heard at this screening. They were so bad, the entire audience was groaning, and we even joked with some guys on the way down Hollywood Boulevard as we made up additional stupid questions people could have asked.

And yet, for every stupid question, Mann answered with class and honesty. Often he just answered whatever good question he could create out of the stupid shit he was asked.

So now I present to you, my paraphrase of stupid questions asked of Michael Mann at the screening:

-You worked with Gong Li on a movie. How come people don't work with her more often? She's great. Also, I heard lots of the actors were afraid of shooting in real locations on that movie. Why?

The movie she's talking about is Miami Vice, but she didn't seem to know that. Michael Mann said Gong Li speaks no English, and the actors weren't afraid of the location shooting.

-I didn't understand that whole part of the movie when he figures out the label on the film canister and matched it with the label on the other canister. Can you explain that, because I didn't understand it. How did he make that conclusion?

The interviewer explained the scene to the guy. You had one opportunity to ask Michael Mann a question, and you ask him a clarifying question about a scene that made perfect sense to every other person in the room? Really, old man?

-The ending of this movie I've always found to be so cheesy. And the freeze frame - ugh. It's just so cheesy and bad. Have you ever thought that?

Michael Mann responded that he's frequently retooled his films and rereleased them in different versions because he's never satisfied.

-Yesterday I overheard you talking once to Madeleine Stowe about a project. Was that a real conversation?

Yes it was a real conversation.

-Are you bitter about the success of Silence of the Lambs?

No.


So here's what we can learn from this. When you go to a Q&A and you have a question, think about the following things: Are you the only person in the room who would have this question? Are you only talking so that you can let everybody in the room know something about you? Are you about to insult the person you're asking? Do you just have a bunch of statements that you are going to somehow remix into a question after you give a fucking speech about some bullshit? If you answered yes to any of the questions, shut the fuck up and let the grown ups talk.

Thursday night I attended a sold-out double feature of The Town and Gone Baby Gone with a Q&A from Ben Affleck between films.

I've always liked him ever since he made fun of himself on Saturday Night Live, but my respect for him grew tremendously at this event.

While looking to see if anyone has posted the Q&A I found video footage of him going in and out of the theater. He was absolutely mobbed by people shoving things in his face to sign and cameras to get a picture. It must be so fucking annoying to have thirty thousand people shouting questions and demanding photographs with them and yelling at you about how they're from Boston and they love the Celtics. Yet he patiently signed stuff, made a comment about the Celtics, and posed for several pictures before he got in his car to go.

When he entered the theater after The Town screened, people stood up. I did not stand up because I apparently am one of the few Americans who does not stand up for every fucking thing ever, but Ben motioned shyly for everybody to sit down. He look at the floor and waved his hand. He was uncomfortable.

During the Q&A the interviewer mentioned how tremendous Ben was in The Town and lavished praise on him. Ben waved him off and shook his head, looking down at the floor. He said that 90% of what he saw in the editing room he absolutely hated. He loved everyone else's performance, but he didn't like his own.

In pretty much every interview he's done since Gone Baby Gone somebody asks him what it was like to direct his brother. First question at this Q&A: yep. "Ben, what was it like directing your brother?"

Not only did he act like he had never heard this question before, but he gave a new answer - at least one I haven't heard yet, anyway. He said he learned about speaking up as an actor, because his brother wasn't afraid of him so he said what was on his mind, and Ben usually keeps his issues to himself when filming.

When asked what advice he would give to new filmmakers he said "Don't do a movie with your girlfriend."

He talked about how much he has learned about cinematography, how his mom called to tell him Gone Baby Gone is high on Netflix and does he get any money from that? He asked us to stay in our seats until he left the theater so he didn't have to see us walk out before Gone Baby Gone (I stayed) and admitted he was relieved as hell that he had a packed crowd. He was afraid the place would be empty.

For a guy who won an academy award at 25 and has been an A-lister at the center of the Paparazzi's world, I'd say he's pretty damn well adjusted. I'd work with him in a heartbeat.

I've had three weeks of holiday vacation and it's been fantastic. During vacations I always turn into a professional screenwriter as much as I can. I read scripts, write pages, watch movies with a critical eye, catch up on all my industry contacts, try to attend a function or two. I sort of pretend my day job doesn't exist.

During this vacation I managed to do almost the entire rewrite of Nice Girls and I'm much, much happier with this version than I was with the first. I finished yesterday after two days of marathon writing sessions, just in time to send it to the group for notes on Sunday. That leaves me four days to get my shit together to go back to work.

That's all great, but it makes it really really hard to actually go back to work.

I like my job. I like the kids, I like the control I have over how I spend my time, I like the fact that I get to talk all day about my favorite subject. I like having full health benefits and a livable wage. I hate the homework and getting up early and the time it takes away from writing.

It's that getting up early thing that's the real bitch. Everything that happens in this town seems to happen on a Thursday. Parties, screenings, panels. It's like everybody in town sleeps late on Friday so they consider Thursday part of the weekend. I can't do these things because I get up at 6am and have to talk on my feet all day to a bunch of volatile teenagers.

So since I have one more Thursday before I return to early rising, I'm taking advantage of it tonight. I'm going to a double feature of The Town and Gone Baby Gone at the Aero with a Q&A by the director between films.

You know who the director is, right? Right. I honestly cannot wait to see what he has to say because I love most of his work. People can say what they want about Ben Affleck, but the man knows his business.

It's stuff like this that makes me wish even more that this was my job. Every day that I sit and write and send emails and sign up for screenings makes me sigh and say "Why can't someone pay me to do this?"

You and me both, right?

I keep reminding myself that I'm at a point where all I have to do is make this script great. It's commercial, original, interesting, and in a genre that sells pretty well. I have people ready to read it who can get it where it needs to go. So if I just make this the best script I can, this may be the way to making my vacation life become my real life.

One of the great things about living in LA is the ability to see films of all kinds in the theater. I feel like I haven't taken advantage of that enough of late, so this week I'm going to try to make up for it. Part of the problem is that it seems everything happens on Thursdays for some reason, and I have to get up at a stupid hour on week days so I can't stay out too late.

But next Thursday there's a screening of 127 Hours at the Arclight and dammit I'm going to go even if it means I'll be sleepy. I don't remember if there's a Q&A but good lord I hope so. With Danny Boyle. I love Danny Boyle.

Then Bloodsport is showing at the New Beverly at midnight on Saturday. I fucking love Bloodsport, so I'm going to take a nap Saturday afternoon to make sure I can stay awake.

I love Q&As too, and that's the beautiful thing about The New Bev - there's almost always some kind of Q&A. For those not in LA, The New Beverly tends to show old movies of varying types - they regularly screen Pulp Fiction, but their day to day films range from black and white horror to terrible 3D porn to Back to the Future. Lots of Grindhouse pictures. The seats are squeaky and the curtains are hideous and everybody's friends. I don't go there nearly enough.

But then right when I decided I had lined up enough movies for the next week, I got an email about AFI's film fest, where you can get free passes to see a lot of movies. I am dying to see I Saw The Devil, the new film from Ji-woon Kim who directed The Good, The Bad and the Weird, which I fucking LOVED. The listing on AFI's site warns that it's super violent. Hurray!

While I was looking for tickets to that I spotted 13 Assassins. Here's the logline on IMDB: "A group of assassins come together for a suicide mission to kill an evil lord." Dude, how can I not watch that? It's from Takashi Mike, who has directed a veritable shitload of movies.

They have a lot of other great looking films airing at AFI Fest, but I think I've maxed out my schedule. At some point I'm going to have to grade papers.

The UK has its own version of Law and Order now starring Doctor Who alum Freema Agyeman and everybody's favorite Battlestar pilot/lawyer/commander Jamie Bamber. It's a lot like our Law and Order, but with accents.

The problem I have is that each time I see Jamie Bamber I feel like an ass. I need to get this off my chest.

Be prepared for shameless name dropping.

I was invited to a screening of a Battlestar Galactica episode at the Cineramadome once thanks to a friend's awesome pull. I sat next to the lovely Jane Espenson and pelted her with questions about what it's like to write for James Marsters. Apparently just about every female actress who ever came on the show wanted to have a romantic storyline with Spike.

Anyway, Jane had my ticket to the after party and she stormed ahead after the screening where she was frequently stopped by fans. She was extremely gracious to everyone. In case you've ever wondered, she's every bit as awesome as you think she is.

At any rate, I'd talked to Mark Verheiden a couple of times at a few gatherings, and as I passed by him on my way to the party he waved me down and said hey. I smiled at him, then realized Jane was disappearing with my ticket to the party, so I kept moving even though he clearly expected me to stop and talk. I realized later what a giant asshole move that was. To Mark Verheiden. Who is just about the nicest guy ever, and also very talented and writing for shows and My Name is Bruce and about a million other things I wish I could do. And I didn't stop to talk to him because I am a moron. I doubt it has affected his life in any way, but I still think about it from time to time and slap myself in the head.

Anyway, I managed to get into the party where I stood right next to the ridiculously tall and stunning Lucy Lawless (See? Name dropping!) and my friend and I end up in a circle with Jamie Bamber. I held an intensely condensing drink in my hand, and right as my palm was completely wet my friend introduced me to him. "My hand is wet," I said. He said he didn't mind and made some kind of joke about wet drink hand.

So at this moment I could have wiped my hand on my pants and shook his hand, or just shook his hand with my wet one and gone about my business. Instead I shook his hand THEN wiped my hands on my pants. As if to say, ew, water I can handle, but Jamie Bamber hand is gross. Which is, of course, not what I meant because Jamie Bamber hand is sexy. But I could tell by his facial expression that I had just offended him beyond repair.

He and my friend got into a long conversation about Horatio Hornblower, which I've never seen, and I faded into the shadow with my now less wet hands. Jamie Bamber seemed annoyed that I was still standing there.

Had I been less of an ass that night, would my life be different? Probably not. But I'd feel less like a moron now every time I see Jamie Bamber on screen.

It was fancy Hollywood party night last night thanks to the powerful influence of an awesome dude who may or may not wish to be identified here. I got to schmooze in Beverly Hills in a fancy brand new cocktail dress.

I didn't give out a lot of business cards, but I did meet some cool people. At one point I saw Jeremy Piven squeeze right by me - he is shorter than I expected and has taken up having hair - and I raised my voice so that he could overhear me talking about my forever love for Zombie Strippers. I don't know if he heard me, but he did not stop to talk about Jenna Jameson shooting ping pong balls out of her vagina. His loss.

Robert Forster was in the elevator with us although at first though I recognized him as a celebrity I couldn't figure out who he was. He kept smiling at me. Nice man.

Aaron Sorkin came by to give a speech but he didn't hang out with the crowd because they would have crowded him to death. How ironic it would be if he were killed by conversations.

Servers were passing around shots of tequila which I did not drink, because ever since Halloween four years ago when shots went down and came back up again in four different puking sessions, I refrain from anything shot related. They also passed trays of tiny sirloin burgers but the one dude and his harem of like four scantily clad girls enveloped the tray like a plague of locusts. I never did get a burger, but I did get a tiny red velvet cupcake. I lost like two pounds from not eating that day. You know how when you think you're getting a lot of food you don't eat and inevitable there will be no food, but if you do eat inevitably there will be tons of food? Yeah. It was like that.

There was one girl dressed in bright red with a cowl neck exposing her boobs and barely any material covering her hoo hah. For some reason she was interested in this little dude with red shoes. His lucky night.

I got three compliments on my dress. I have finally arrived in society.

My shoes, though awesome, squeezed the hell out of my toes all night, so to get to the bar after the party I took them off and walked barefoot through Beverly Hills. I'm really glad the party wasn't in Koreatown.

When people get drunk they really get open about the dealings they've had around town. I highly recommend just grabbing a glass of water and listening.

It's premiere party time at the Paley Center again. Last year I went to the NBC party, where I discovered Community, last season's best comedy - I don't care what the Emmys say.

This time got tickets for Thursday's event, also NBC, because I want to check out The Undercovers. The Event is also screening, and Outsourced and Chase. Naturally it looks like they're saving The Undercovers for last to make sure I stay until the end. Last year I bolted when the Mercy pilot finally bored me and my friend half to death, but this year I'm going to have to sit through everything, good or bad.

Then I'm hitting up Friday for CBS and Shit My Dad Says. There's some other stuff screening, but I'm just going for the Shatner. If you haven't read his autobiography, I encourage you to look into it. He's brutally honest and hilarious.

Anyway, the Paley premiere parties are very cool events, so if you can still get tickets I highly recommend it. And if you're headed out Thursday of Friday, keep a lookout and say hi.

Last night a Friend and I jaunted over to the Paley Center and watched TV Guide's NBC screenings. Three new shows premiered with a Q&A, appetizers and drinks, and a chance to hug it out with Joel McHale and Chevy Chase and some other people on TV, all for free.

We had tickets but nobody ever checked them. If you had passed by the Paley Center at the right time you could have just walked in and gotten some free shit and met Chevy Chase.

Friend and I meandered around drinking free beer and attempting desperately to get some snacks which were passed around like three at a time on a little tray that was consumed immediately like a living victim in a zombie horde. At one point I grabbed a pretzel stick wrapped with prosciutto at the same time some bitch grabbed the same pretzel stick and literally tried to tug it out of my hands. I hope she didn't have germy hands because I won. At that point it was 7:30 and I hadn't eaten since 11. I was hungry enough I would have stabbed the bitch with the pretzel stick and licked her blood off before cramming it in my mouth.

You know those backdrops celebrities stand against while they get interviewed by lots of people with microphones and retarded questions? We watched that. Just fascinating. Joel McHale is tall and he walked that press line like he'd been doing it since he was three. Chevy Chase is also tall. It looked like he really enjoyed being back out in the limelight. The little Asian dude from Community was pretty awesome. He was the first one in line and the last one to leave.

As McHale and the others finished their walk of glory some lady came on the intercom and told us all to get our asses in seats because the show was about to start. We walked up to some VIP guard and asked where we were supposed to go, because if you've ever been in the Paley Center you know the architecture doesn't exactly lend itself to any kind of logic.

So the guard guy was all "Oh the best spots are on the roof. It's lovely up there."

So we were all "Oooh cool let's go there."

Yeah. The roof was overflow seating. But props to the guard for making us feel like we were special for like three seconds.

Still, I was able to get a beer in the middle of the Q&A, which the people in the auditorium were unable to do.

There wasn't really much seating up there, so for a while I balanced myself on the railing, constantly paranoid that I was going to slip and crash through the skylight into the confusing architecture below. But I did not.

Okay so Community. It's a sitcom about a group of people who for various reasons are attending community college and have landed in the same Spanish class. Joel McHale is a lovable asshole, and I am 99% convinced he is the ONLY working actor who could have pulled that shit off. No matter how big a dick he is, it's completely impossible not to love that guy. The show also gives us the brilliance of Chevy Chase and one of the most ethnically diverse casts working today. Two black characters, one Asian (who doesn't appear until episode 2), one Middle Easterner, three women (one of them black), and only two white guys among the series regulars. Yet it didn't feel forced.

You know, normally a Mexican in a sitcom becomes a silly stereotype, but in this case I think a Mexican American who sucked at Spanish would be a good addition as a recurring character. I mean, why not? They've got everybody else.

Anyway, the laughs were plentiful. I already added this show to my queue, which was convenient since it's on after The Office. I'm telling you guys, it sounds like absurd gushing, but I really enjoyed this pilot. My Friend agreed.

Then we watched the first act and a half of the new drama? Mercy. I say drama? Because I'm not really sure what it is. It's a medical show about a nurse who used to serve in Iraq and then some other people who work with her, including Buffy's Michelle Trachtenberg whose green nurse is an even more annoying character than Dawn in season 6.

There were parts of the pilot where I wasn't sure if I was supposed to laugh or be serious. Michelle jumped at one point with her hands around a bed pan so pee splashed all over her. I think that was supposed to be funny, but it just looked gross and disturbing. Our lead didn't really act like she was traumatized by the war; she just seemed like a bitch. Halfway through Act 2 Friend hinted that wanted to roll.

"I'm not invested in this," he said. We rolled.

Downstairs TV Guide had set up a photobooth where you could get your picture put on a fake TV Guide cover. Friend and I did a whole CSI thing which looked pretty cool because he was wearing sunglasses.

Then we left. When I got home I realized I had no food and was still starving, so about 40 minutes later I gorged on Papa Johns.

It was a pretty sweet night.

Today was the awesomest field trip ever, even better than that trip to Glendale last year where we had free burgers.

Today kicked off The Big Read, a program sponsored by Mayor Villaraigosa and the National Endowment for the Arts designed to encourage reading around Los Angeles. Five different high schools, and maybe more, all agreed to use The Maltese Falcon in our American Literature classes.

So today another teacher and I took 26 hand-picked kids from our school to Barnsdall Park where the city had a classic car demonstration, a real live falcon, a jazz band and a staged performance of the play version performed by a troupe from Long Beach. They fed us veggie burgers or chicken thingees. I ate the veggie burger because I'm trying not to be fat. It was okay.

In case you've never noticed, teachers will do just about anything for free food. You think cops love donuts? Pwah.

James Avery was there in a wheel chair since he just had foot surgery. Here is Carlton's Dad preparing to eat his lunch like three feet from me.


Austen Perros was there, and I'd never heard of him before but judging by the ear-splitting screams emanating from the teenage girls beside me he's very popular with the teenage girl set. There were some other cool people there - Hammett's granddaughter and great granddaughter were there. They taught me that Dashiell Hammett's first name is pronounced "Duh-SHEEL". So that was news.

We got T-Shirts and gift bags - and you know how gift bags usually have a book mark and like three brochures in it? Not this time. We got all kinds of cool stuff - a graphic novel and some mints and a fizzy soda-like-but-not-actually-soda-drink, and a pencil. Oh, and a magnet with the superintendent's name on it, I guess so I can remember who he is every time I go into my fridge for barbecue sauce.

The mayor was there with his cloud of camera people:


And he stayed to give us all a nice speech about the importance of reading. According to the event organizer he NEVER stays that long in one place. He was really enthusiastic. Since I was also taking pictures for the yearbook I had a camera on me, as you can see, but I only thought of recording his speech for YouTube halfway through so I didn't do it.

We watched the play, which starred some very talented actors and one trumpet player who actually read from the script and appeared never to have even read the script before so he covered his unprofessionalism by breaking the fourth wall every three seconds. The poor lead actor was doing his best to work through it.

Anyway, when all was said and done it was a great success. The kids are jazzed up about the book now and they're all supposed to go back to their classes and teach the rest of the kids what they learned.

One of our kids won a copy of the film in a raffle. It's like a $25 DVD set. She clearly didn't want it, so I leaned over and said, "You can sell that."

And she goes, "Really? To who?"

And I said, "Me."

And she said, "Five dollars."

And I didn't have any cash so when we got back to school I ran up to Best Friend and demanded five dollars and bought the movie. And then our donated camera came in for yearbook. And then, since I had a sub in my class, I went home early.

It was a good day.

I'm very excited about Tuesday. Tuesday is the eve of glorious things. I don't usually get all political, but I just want to encourage Californians to vote NO on proposition 4. Many families are open and loving and teach their kids to do the right thing. Some families aren't so healthy, and some girls would be beaten or kicked out of the house if they came home pregnant. Some would not be allowed to get abortions if they wanted them. I know some of these girls. So please vote NO on 4.

I like voting in my neighborhood. The area is all million dollar homes and families and our one apartment building (Which also means I got lots of parking) so I get to go vote at somebody's house. For the primaries it was a garage in some dude's mansion. The old ladies running the voting booths were eating fried chicken. And they gave me extra "I Voted" stickers. So voting in my neighborhood is fun. I'm going to ride my bike.

Also Tuesday I get to start the noir film showcase. I'm starting with Chinatown. It's odd, I had seen Chinatown long before, but I was studying it after I originally read Syd Field's Screenplay. I think I was looking too hard at structure to appreciate the film from a story perspective.

But the other day I watched it again. And this time I just watched it to make sure there wasn't anything I had to worry about or explain for the classroom - for instance, the fact that LA is located in a desert. And as I watched the film again I realized just how beautifully tragic it is.

Sometimes I forget to just watch movies. I'm so busy analyzing, reviewing, picking apart the details to see what works and what doesn't, that I forget to bask in the beauty of a good story. But right there alone in my apartment watching Chinatown I felt so damn sad at the ending in a way I never felt before when I watched it. And sometimes, if I'm careful, I can make the kids feel it too. If you introduce a movie just the right way they'll love it forever.

So I hope we all have a good time watching Chinatown on election day. Kind of fitting, I think.

Here I am, preparty, in costume as Sarah Connor.

Judging from all the people I've shown this picture to so far, I bear a striking resemblance to Lara Croft. Also in this picture my double jointed elbow looks creepy and my pants aren't tied.

Also why is Paul F Tompkins hosting Best Week Ever now? I like him, but I think I liked him a lot more when he was one of many. Now they're just acting like a bad Soup clone. Why did you change, Best Week Ever?

Anyway, Happy Halloween you guys.

I love Halloween. How could you not? You get to dress up and be somebody else for a whole night. It's the only night in the year when you can get away with dressing like a complete whore and not sustain any weird looks. Guys can feel good wearing dresses.

For me, I always try to go as a fictional character I admire. Well, in the past I did. I've been Buffy three times and a Jedi twice. I was Trinity once too.

Two years ago I was trying to be the Heroes cheerleader but I waited too late and at the last minute I couldn't find the right costume so I ended up buying an outfit from Frederick's and going as a Poodle Skirt Girl. It was lame. It also broke my Halloween Costume Rules - make it comfortable, make sure it has pockets, and make sure it's something you'll disassemble and wear again in a practical setting.

Last year I went as a boxer. That was pretty cool. A lot of drunk guys in WeHo tried to fight me. I think I really hit one of them pretty hard by accident. Throughout the night I sort of developed this smiley pose and tapped people who tried to box with me. It went with my rules because it was super comfortable and I had pockets. And I didn't have to buy anything new, although I did use it as an excuse to buy a new sports bra. It's blue.

This year I was supposed to go as a prison guard and Beefcake was to be my prisoner. But he got all rulesy on me about buying an inmate costume that he'd never wear again.

So the other night I was sitting there looking at his muscular ass, trying to figure out what he could be. Gladiator? No, he refuses to wear a skirt. Hulk? He ain't painting his skin green. Conan? I forget why Conan was unacceptable.

Then I said - hey how about the Terminator?

And then I was all OMG! I can be Sarah Connor!

Costume perfection.

So we're going to be T2 tomorrow night. I bought some BDUs at California Surplus Mart, where the clerk told me he thinks they bought Sarah Connor's costume there for the movie. He also said they buy stuff for the Night Rider show there. I can see why. If you're looking for costume stuff for a military film that place has everything.

Anyway, I bought my uber comfortable pants and tomorrow night I will be Sarah Connor. Movie Sarah Connor, not TV Sarah Connor.

I love being a badass fictional woman. There's just something fun about putting on a persona for the night and working it while you consume many beers. I think Sarah's a hard drinker. And if anybody tries to get out of line the Terminator and I can bust out some moves. I learned a new throw a few weeks ago and I'm dying to try it.

What are you for Halloween?

Ahh, Los Angeles. I was gone for ten days and now I'm back and I have like eighty thousand hours of television to catch up on so don't anybody tell me what happened on anything.

I was so jetlagged I fell asleep at 7pm and woke up at 4 am. I didn't even shower or anything, and I don't ever go without a shower.

I don't think that before today there had ever been a day in my life where I'd cleaned things before the sun was up. But since I left my window open ten days worth of LA soot had landed on my sheets and I was appalled at the amount of dirty dishes I had left myself to clean.

I only have just over a week left before I have to go back to work. I gotta say, spending a week in paradise is a fine way to get up the energy for a new semester. And this time I get to teach the Maltese Falcon and the accompanying unit on film noir.

In the meantime, here is another video from the Moments Before series.

I'm back in the states and back to the Internet. I just spent the last week falling asleep to the sound of the ocean and waking up to the sunrise over clear blue Atlantic waters beyond the palm trees. I am less pale and my clothes smell like coconut because my bottle of Bacardi smashed in my suitcase. So thanks for that, Us Air. I smell like I bathed in Banana Boat.

But I had lots of fun in San Juan and would love to go back sometime. I even had a dream one night that I plan to turn into a short film script. I'm pretty sure it was inspired by the combination of spending the week at the ocean with my best friend and having watched Paris, Je T'aime the night before. That was a damn fine movie.

I'm in NC for now because flying a detour to visit my parents is a lot cheaper than making a separate trip. And Mom will wash the rum out of my clothes without even asking for quarters.

And I ate at Bojangles. I love LA, but they don't have Bojangles.

Two more weeks and I go back to work. I'm almost ready.

As you read this I am either on a plane or sunning myself in Puerto Rico. Suck it.

Best Friend's parents have a time share so we can stay for a week for free in a luxury resort near San Juan, a place I have never before been. I bought a new shirt for the occasion.

As soon as I leave Puerto Rico I'm flying to Raleigh to visit the folks for a few days. It was only an extra $60 to make the detour, which is way cheaper than taking a whole new trip for Christmas. However that does mean that for the first time I'll be familyless on Christmas, and since the Beefcake has to work until 10 pm I'll be dancing around my 3 foot tree with the cat, singing "Oh Holy Night" at the top of my lungs all day as I play Trivial Pursuit with myself and eat pigs in blankets.

But I digress.

I can post from my mom's house, but I'm not sure what kind of access I'll have to the Internet in my luxury condo, nor do I think I'll want to bother with the rest of the world while I'm relaxing in the hot tub, ignoring the hot Puerto Rican dudes as they walk by because my boyfriend can deadlift over 500 lbs and that is not jealousy you want to awaken.

My point is, I'll be gone for a while but I'll be back on the 12th. Don't go too crazy.

It's about 8,000 degrees in my bedroom so last night I decided to sleep on the couch next to the air conditioning unit, which meant I couldn't roll around and the cat kept waking me up by staring at my face and rubbing against my nose hoping I'd feed him.

Then this morning I had to go sub for a coworker, and while the kids were working I trained to become an SAT essay grader. Yep. That was about five hours of reading paper after paper about the same topic and trying to figure out what grade I'm supposed to give it so I can pass the test and start making some money affecting high school kids I don't even know.

Anyway, I got about three hours of sleep and spent the day staring at really dull information on a computer screen, is my point. And I did most of the testing in the school library which was hotter than my bedroom since today LA has teleported to the middle of the sun and the library is without air conditioning. The books were trying to grow feet and run out the door before they melted.

Yesterday I was all excited because tonight I was gonna go see Synecdoche, NY at a Creative Screenwriting screening on Sunset. And Charlie Kaufman is supposed to be there for the Q&A.

Yesterday I was all hyped up about it. Best Friend was going to come up to Hollywood early and we were gonna go stand in line for the inevitable three hours to make sure we got a seat.

That sounded really swell until I was sweating to death in the library staring at the thirty thousandth essay written by a kid with early onset of Parkinson's and struggling to keep my head off the table.

That's when I realized the main reason I wanted to go was to see the JD Salinger of the screenwriting world in person. I can see the movie later, and I can listen to the Q&A in podcast form, so the main reason to go is for the privilege of seeing the movie early - a movie I want to see but am not chomping at the bit to get to - and to see the man in person.

And I decided - fuck that. I like his work, I admire his creativity, but to be honest the only film of his I truly LOVE is Eternal Sunshine. Why am I so interested in seeing him in person? Because he's a recluse who never comes out of his hole.

I am too tired, too cranky and too sweaty to stand in line for three hours just to see a man who hates people talk to a room full of people. I'll just listen to him talk to them later. Right now I'm going to take a nap.

Yesterday I went to watch some friends shoot a YouTube short and ended up doing a line of voice over and posing as a hot slutty lady on some dude's arm. That's always a fun way to spend a Saturday. So now for my second ever appearance on YouTube I will be exposing my cleavage. I'm afraid I've been typecast.

What was particularly fun about this shoot is that when I got there the guys had only a vague idea of a story. Beefcake and I made a Home Depot run and when we got back there was a hilarious completed script and something of a story. So in one day the short was written, lit and shot. And it's pretty damn funny.

A friend who hasn't been a part of the whole zombie script planning situation finally got around to reading my script this weekend. The general opinion was that it's well written and the characters are well developed and there are some good set pieces and some interesting moments, but it seemed like a pretty standard zombie film.

And yet, he also said he was expecting more of a twist at the end. What if the protagonists arrive at their destination to find that everyone there has gone crazy from being locked inside all the time....

Oh, wait, that's 28 Days Later.

Okay, what if they arrive at the destination and the people try to kill the protagonists and take their children.....

Oh wait, that's 28 Days Later.

Okay, what if they arrive at the destination and the people try to kill the husband and take his wife....

Oh wait, that's 28 Days Later.

I admit when I was thinking of this story I was really worried about the similarities between this story and 28 Days Later, but there are enough differences to make mine a new story. If I gave the ending a twist it would become a copycat script. There's pretty much no way around that. I like my script, but that movie has made it much more complicated to sell.

Stupid 28 Days Later.

I am hoping that when World War Z comes out it does terrific at the box office, because then studios will be all like "Who's got a big budget zombie action movie so we can take advantage of this new craze? Oh if only somebody had a zombie movie with explosions and tidal waves and setting castles on fire!" and I will pop into frame like a hero with my perfect script.

Or, I'll just use it to get a job writing something else.

I just saw Choke.

I got really lucky on that, actually. I was at the gym until 6 punching a bag in front of Trainer while he leaned against a wall, chewing gum. The gym is in Hollywood, the screening was in Westwood. For those of you who don't live in LA, that might as well be in Mexico during 6pm traffic.

Thankfully, Best Friend got there before me and saved a place in line, but even arriving 45 minutes before the screening landed her way back in the line. We weren't sure we'd get in.

We crept to the front of the line and Jeff Goldsmith took in the four last people in front of us and told Best Friend and me, now the first two people in line, to wait.

We waited. About thirty people waited behind us.

He came back out and said there were 2 seats left. We cheered. Everybody else went "Awwwww!"

We went into the theater and Jeff said "Who are those two people with an empty seat beside them?

Four people raised their hands. So because a couple of people can't follow directions, like fifty people were turned away when there were two seats left.

But whatever. Even though we were to the right and in the front row so we had a very odd angle on the film, we were just glad we got in.

So, the movie.

Choke stars Sam Rockwell (who was at the screening and I now believe is also Jason Lee) as a historical reenactor who has a sex addiction thanks to intimacy his nutty mother's (Angelica Huston) bizarre upbringing. The film is mostly a comedy with a shitpile of sex.

It was good. Not great, but good. I laughed, I teared up a little, I enjoyed it. It had some plot elements that were so difficult to believe that I had trouble immersing myself in the film, but given the difficulty of the source material I think Clark Gregg wrote and directed the best film he could.

In the end it was worth the wait and the crappy seating location. And suck it, people behind us in line. Be faster next time.