So Ellen and I rolled into our pitch meeting today. She, more than me, due to her fancy chair on wheels. I laughed at her for forgetting her shoes, but then was told that she doesn't wear shoes much since she DOESN'T WALK.

So then I gave her shit about wearing her "circulation socks" which were really nothing but nylon socks but whatever. If you can't tease your partner, than who can you tease? (Oh, your husband, but he's your partner also. This is getting complicated.)

The long and the short of it (this also describes Ellen and I) is that the meeting went well. All pitches were delivered without fainting, puking or general rambling on's. One in particular was their favorite (ours too) and we're turning it into a three minute script by Friday.

Lest you think we're going to make boatloads, let me reassure you:

1. No money crosses hands until our idea is not only written, but then sold to someone who is crazy enough to think we can handle a show.

2. This lovely meeting was only feasible thanks to divine luck from a fateful kindergarten tour last year when I bumped into a woman I had never met in my life but in twenty minutes we decided we liked each other and started meeting once/month at Nordstrom for coffee. I suckered her into inviting me to her writing group and from there I met an exec who works at this animation studio and that is that.

3. I wasn't really that nervous. Unlike the "please" and "Oh God I Hope's" of my early 30's/late 20's, my almost 40s find me in the pretty different place of "Wow, I have all I really need in a sweet little cull de sac in the Valley... everything else is gravy."

Which, with this attitude, is precisely why one day I WILL BE TOO GOOD FOR YOU BECAUSE THEY WILL DEVELOP OUR SCRIPT INTO A TV SHOW AND MAKE US RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICH.

Okay, I won't be too good for you. But I hope to be rich. I'll send you all tickets. Or cash. Or the rest of my thriftstore supply. Whatever you like.

Have a great weekend!

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