Don’t guilt trip me. I’ve been a bad blogger. Trust me, I know and I’ve put myself through, like, what I can only imagine is an OJ Simpson post wife-murdering-and-getting-away-with-it sized guilt trip because I’ve neglected my beautiful blog. But unlike OJ, I’ve been too busy to even stage a police chase as a cry for help. Instead I’ve carried the burden of my guilt like a trooper and now just ask for reconciliation via this super post. Super what? Awesome? Doubt it. But I’ll try to make it super something.

So what have I been busy doing? Well for starters, my life’s work– aka grammin’ like a boss.

Follow me on Instagram ya’ll, @wdupross

Because who doesn’t want to know what coffee mug I drank out of this morning and what dress I’m thinking about maybe purchasing, right?

Whatever. Please just grizzly bear with me. Its a steep and slippery and vain slope I’m on right now via Instagram. But this too shall pass.


I’ve also been spending my time thoroughly dedicated to our gurl and her valiant efforts to prove she is a normal human being. Guys, I’m talking about Britney and, guys, she’s not doing a very good job. Have you turned on the television recently? Have you seen the artist formerly known as Shaved-Head-Britney on this season of the X-FACTOR?! And if not, did you know that its taped live and therefore the artist also formerly known as That-Girl-That-Cheated-On-Justin-Bieber-Senior (aka Justin Timberlake) must speak? LIVE?!

Aside from the part where petite Celine Dion takes the mic and gives me the goosies for her diva singing, Britney is the best thing about that show. But also the scariest.

Pah-reach, Celine Dion Incarnate.

Like I hold my breath every time Britney speaks. Like I’m almost positive there is a medical team standing by on set just for the sole purpose of grabbing Britney for a 5150 if necessary.

P.S. If you don’t know, a ‘5150’ is police dispatch code for “Gurlfrand is bonkers and we’re gunna pick her up and put her in the Cedars Sinai Hospital bonkers wing for a good 3 days.” That’s what happened in 2007– the Year of Our Britney– remember?

Hai der gurl.

But we are just gunna keep saying our prayers that my fellow Louisiana ghoul is keeping-on that straight and narrow (read: her agent turned fiance continues to feed her lines any and all times Brit Brit must speak in the presence of others) and no one lets her near a yellow highlighter ever again.

Uh oh.

Because that’s what happened here right? I mean I remember the days of boredom in Ms. Cassidy’s 7th grade geography class when I would casually turn to my pink highlighter for entertainment. Now I look back fondly on all that time I spent as my own beautician, slowly passing that pink marker through my hair only to later sweat off those iridescent pink streaks during volleyball practice in our non-air-conditioned South Louisiana gym. Obviously, this is what happened to Britney, except her highlighter was yellow and tight-shirt-titties-Simon-Cowell was the one boring her and she didn’t have to later pass out from heat stroke at volleyball practice. Obviously.

I tweeted her the other day to tell her what a good job I thought she was doing but she didn’t respond.

Feeling it.


I’ve also been really busy keeping up with The Ross Family group text. Or as I like to call it– Ross Family Catversations.

It all started when Mom and Dad went to the Eagles/Saints game at the Superdome and Emily and I insisted on cat commentary after MISSYGURL sent us a picture of raw oysters.

Prostitute cats are awesome. No? Well apparently my parents didn’t think so either because they silenced their phones for the remainder of the football game whilst Sistercat and I got this catversation out of our system.

But parental approval aside, good times were had. And sometimes we bring the cats back just for old time sake. Or in my case, just to be an asshole about cold weather (because in, like, Los Angeles where I, like, live there is no cold weather) …


I’ve was also really busy (for four full hours of mah life) giving my everything to Oprah’s Favorite Things. Obviously I’m big on staying up with current affairs– aka Oprah. However, I’ll be the first to admit that I had some real issues with her idea of ‘giving’ this year. First let me say that she chose to give to military families AND FOR THAT I applaud her. However, giving truffle oil and cheese and a mirrored cutting board to military families? OPRAHGURL, give them a years worth of mac and cheese to feed their babies. Its easy. Its convenient. Its not truffle oil.

The satisfaction of 3 minute Easy Mac aside– know what my favorite thing about the whole show was? Oh the part where Oprah kept doing ‘The Oprah.’ Guys, seriously. Over the past few years people have risen to fame because of their Oprah impersonating ability alone. I will even admit to falling into “The Oprah” on occasion because, really, who doesn’t like making toast for their roommate and then delivering said toast with an enthusiastic, “Tommmmm–aaahhhh Caaahhh-rrruise wanted you to have this TOOOHHH—OOOOHHHHSSST.” Duh. Bottom line: her ability to add syllables to words is uncanny and we all need tah rah-spect that.

But whilst watching the latest, ‘Favorite Things’ broadcast I was under the impression that Oprah fancies herself the best ‘Oprah’ impersonator of them all. Its like she is making fun of herself…and at completely inappropriate times during the broadcast. For ex-ham-ple, she was testing out potential favorite things in her favorite things test lab and she ran across a soap dispenser (yes, a soap dispenser) that she was not fond of. Instead of a simple, “no thank you,” Oprah found it best to express herself via a hearty, “I don’t like it, NOOOOOO I DOHHHHOOOONNNN’T” right in one of her Oprah-elves’ ears.

I would find the whole exchange hilarious had anyone but Oprah been a part of it because obviously that person would have been doing an exaggerated Oprah impersonation. But Oprah was a part of it. SHE WAS THE ONE TAKING THE OPRAH IMPERSONATION TOO FAR. So, like, what is she doing with our minds here guys? If the jokes not on Oprah anymore than who is it on? Stedman?

Regardless, we should probably just pretend that we never had this conversation about Oprah inceptioning us because Oprah can do things to people who question her.

So for now…



I’ve also been quite busy campaigning for tour guide of the year.

Mother as well as Mimi and Meg (otha motha and otha sistah, respectively) decided to pop on over to sunnnnay California for a visit and we had a hell of a time, y’all.

Our adventures were Lord of the Rings epic. And aside from actually casting a ring into the depths of Mordor, we just about did it all. However, I have to say that seeing Barbra Streisand at the Hollywood Bowl was probably the highlight. I sang her songs all week leading up to the show and even dressed up as Babs herself (circa Funny Girl) for the actual concert. Basically, I was really fun and not at all annoying to be around.

“Don’t tell me not live, just sit and putter…”

My other favorite part of their visit went down like this:

Weeks before MISSYGURL’s visit I asked her what she wanted to do while she was here and if there were any shows she wanted to check out. I had already lined up tickets for Ellen but was basically telling her I’d make some phone calls (and, yes, I hate myself for just using the term “make some phone calls”) to get her in the audience of whatever show she wanted. So I’m thinking shes going to say Leno or Conan or Chelsea or, hell, maybe even The Talk. Nope.

Wait for it…

Mumsie wanted to go to Young and The Restless.

So  I called one of my Hollywood Fairy Godmothers and got my momma on that set to see her “story,” damnit! She and Mimi toured the whole Y & R world AND even saw TWO scenes being filmed.

And I know you probs hates it when I get sentimental but, fah real, my momma is the biggest proponent of my crazy person dreams in Hollywood Land so to be able to finally give back to her felt good. Besides, making MISSYGURL almost pee her pants with excitement at seeing Victor’s new house was daaaaahhhh best.

We also casually ran into Dog the Bounty Hunter and his walking boobs (aka his wife) at dinner. And it wasn’t even really a highlight. I just wanted an excuse to bring Mrs. Dog the Bounty Hunter’s boobs to your attention. Because I don’t want to believe this is real but I saw it (them?) and it is.

How she walks upright is beyond me.


And then of course I’ve been super busy worrying about Lindsay Lohan? Why? Have you heard of Liz & Dick? OF COURSE YOU HAVE.

Back during my innocence (childhood) I was a BIG FAN of Lilo. But who wasn’t? The Parent Trap, the handshake from the Parent Trap, Mean Girls, every piece of dialogue from Mean Girls– that’s it guys, that’s my life up to age 15. So I was really excited to see Lindsay make this so called “comeback” gracing the small screen as Elizabeth Taylor on the one and only Lifetime Network. Now, to be fair, my expectations were’t TOO high because this is Lifetime we are talking about BUT I did have hope. I mean really, if Britney can comeback from 2007– The Year of Our Britney– then why can’t Lohan?

But it was not to be.

Attempted acting.

Granted Lilo tried. And maybe it wasn’t her! Maybe it was the networks fault! Maybe the timing was just off! I DON’T KNOW! But whatever it was, it just didn’t work. And I figured that out about 5 minutes into it. So what did I do? Naturally I live tweeted the shit outta that junk.

And you know how live tweeting is. Hectic. But on top of the usual pressure of live tweeting I also had to contend with the heat of being at a viewing party at my boss’s house with former boy band-ers, famed reality personalities and TV musical stars alike. So I guess in the excitement of the moment I disregarded the difference between THERE, THEY’RE AND THEIR.

By the time I noticed my folly I had 4 retweets. It was too late. I just had to let that grammatical error go off into the Twitterverse by itself and hope for the best.

Nope. Two online publications picked up the tweet.

I mean this was tragic and awesome at the same time. Tragic because I GRADUATED WITH AN ENGLISH DEGREE. Awesome because Patton Oswalt and I were held in the same twitter-esteem in a somewhat silly magazine.

But over the course of the day I slowly got over it. Obviously I don’t care about grammar so much on my blog so whatevs about a little tweet.

But then something else occurred to me. Does anyone have eyes on Lilo? Multiple news outlets are reporting that she is super torn up about her berating on Twitter. And of course I’ve convinced myself that I’ve now contributed to her self-loathing and if she does anything stupid post-Liz & Dick fallout I am somewhat resposible.

I’m sorry.

Tumultuous day to say the least.


Okay back to the business of being busy but I hope you’ve enjoyed this post– one that the majority of I wrote directly following a Liz & Dick  drinking game last night. So, yeah, pretty tipsy.

Oh and I really do promise to be better about blogging. Truth is I have been writing LOTS lately just not here. Howevs, I solemly swear to give mah blog some TLC.

See yah again rahhheal soon, y’all.

Girl on Girls: How HBO’s ‘Girls’ Cured My Saturday Morning Moral Hangover (Review)

I’ll preface the ridiculousness that is about to unfold just by saying that I know its ridiculous and you should know that for the most part I am ridiculous. In general if you are reading my blag you should just go into every post prepared for the ridic.

You know what else is ridiculous? Lena Dunham and all her success at the ripe age of 26. I wanted so badly to hate her and I really tried to hate her, too. Obviously it was hate (or attempted hate) born out of jealousy over the fact that she is ‘making it’ as the creator, executive producer and star of her own television show, Girls.

Bitter, much? Yes.

HBO Girls Lena Dunham Promotional Poster

But try and fail, I cannot hate Lena. How could I after seeing her show that, in my humble opinion as a 20 something broke yet inspired creative young thing, speaks so well to the generation of 20 something broke yet inspired creative young things?

Quick turn around, right? Let’s rewind.

The hate stopped this weekend and definitely turned into love when I finally sat down and watched Girls. After a Friday night where I spent a good chunk of my rent check on tablespoon sized helpings of cocktails “crafted by mixologists” at a overrated bar that severely underwhelmed but where poor decisions ensued, I spent all of Saturday in bed eating greasy food and nursing both an alcohol gifted hangover as well as a moral hangover.

I’m not saying but I’m saying…think this kind of crowd for my Friday night.

But don’t you guys worry about judging me because I totally got that covered and am already judging myself enough for all of us.

While hiding from greater society on Saturday I decided to watch some online TV until I could fall asleep and start anew on Sunday.

First I watched Dawson’s Creek season four for about five episodes but then cut that short because I couldn’t handle watching Katie Holmes’s mouth move any more (Anybody else? Katie Homes- weirdest talker ever or weirdest talker ever?).

No, I’m sorry, she never stops with the weird talking thing. Just try to get over it.

And then I finally succumbed. All my friends had been talking about how great Girls is for weeks and, out of bitter jealousy, I had been vehemently preaching against the show and Lena Dunham and all her stupid success for weeks. But now, alone and in the privacy of my hangover cave, I decided to watch the first episode and see what the fuss was about. Then I watched the second episode and every episode after that because I could not. stop. watching.

And just like that my moral hangover was abated by my new friends Hannah, Marnie, Jessa and Shoshanna. They comforted me. I’m totes not alone in this 23 year old not always making great decisions thing (True, I guess I sorta already knew that but this was just particularly affirming). It was like someone else was there in my hangover cave telling me, “yo kid, its okay. We are young and we make mistakes but more importantly we are out there doin’ it big.”

AND OF COURSE  of course of course watching Girls inspires one to pull the old SATC game and pick which character we are most like (i.e. I’m a Carrie, you’re a Charlotte and, you slut, are a Miranda).

Don’t worry, I won’t hate.

“I think I am definitely most like Marnie because we have the same put together fashion sense and are really hard workers BUT I do not have her weird commitment issues.”

Herrrrrrro Type-A!

“I’m super friendly and easy to talk to like Shoshanna BUT less naïve.”

Super excited for whats in store for Shoshanna.

“I am such a Jessa! Such a free spirit, creative and out there and can relate to all the other girls at the same time BUT I’m not as lost as she is.”

Have mixed feelings of envy and concern towards Jessa.

“I’m like Hannah in that we are both aspiring writers but OBVIOUSLY I am not flawed with her people pleasing insecurities.”

Yo gurl, don’t let anyone pee on you in the shower.

BUT GALS. I don’t think Girls is really all that much like the SATC game in that you can’t really only be ONE of the girls of Girls. In fact, Girls gets it so good that I am now of the opinion that Hannah, Marnie, Jessa and Soshanna COLLECTIVELY represent the spirit animal of twenty something inspired but broke creative young thangs  across the nation—all trying to find success in their passions AND ALSO trying to have some resemblance of a social life AND ALSO trying to pay rent.

Do you think Spirit Animals are kinda like Patronus (Patroni?)? I do!

I for one think I’m some weird combination of all dem girls. I like to tell myself I have all of their strengths but I know the truth is I probably more likely have all of their flaws. Like I said, its a collective spirit animal smorgasbord. Point is, they’re pretty real-life-ish and pretty relatable-ish and Lena Dunham & co nailed it. Just give it a shot if you haven’t already. Besides, spirit animals are totally in right now.

So by the time I passed out on Saturday it was already infinitely better than my Friday. But you wanna know what was even better? My Sunday morning. Why? Because I dreamed about Adam from Girls.


I’ve always dreamed of writing for and being involved with something great like Hello Giggles and NOW I AM so dreams really do come true. That being said, I now expect Adam from Girls to weld me a table in real life just like he did in this crazy dream. CHECK IT OUT, YA’LL.

Moral of the story- sometimes a gal needs a night eating greasy food and watching Girls by herself. And those kinds of Saturday nights are much better than Friday nights drinking overpriced Thumbelina sized cocktails.

Also clear? No reason to be jealous of Lena. Girlfriend is good at making television and at deceiving me into thinking four characters on television are my real life friends (okay that part is depressing).

Purchasing a Spaceship and the Miracle of GIFing Myself

Guys, once again, its been too long.

Accept my sincerest apologies for not blagging recently BUT it has been a VERY busy couple of days in LaLa Land.

I had a bit of a situation with my trusty old 4Runner– meaning it committed suicide and left me lonely and car-less in Greater Los Angeles.

Circa 08: The day Black Beauty came into my possession. Seems like yesterday. (Ignore questionable golf attire of yesteryear)

I said a sad farewell to my old friend– my only friend, in fact, that made the glorious cross country adventure to California almost a year ago to the day with me.

My beloved pup, Lincoln, once attempted stow-away status in Black Beauty but Dad said Hollywood isn’t for melancholic dauchsands.

But now Black Beauty and I are no more and I guess it makes sense.

We had a good run though.

She was always more of a farm animal than a city car. She was big and slow and smelled like grass (…?) so city life just didn’t really make sense for her.

Nor did it make sense for me. I was paying upwards of 6o DOLLARS A WEEK for gas.

Yup, $60+

It was time for us to part ways before my wallet up and committed suicide as well.



After driving– no, mostly just sitting in a gas guzzler for almost a year thanks to the AMAZING traffic of El Lay, obviously I had my sights set on something a bit more economical and inexpensive. Acknowledging that I am going to have to wait a few more years before I can buy my $500,000 Audi R8, I instead set my sights on a Prius.

This would be ideal.

But this will work too.

I know. A Prius. Typical.

BUT before you go off into a frenzy of worry over my sanity let me just say that though I want to drive a Prius (spaceship) I have NO PLANS of becoming fully indoctrinated in alien culture (Scientology).

Not a rebel. Hold your horses.

I ask you to envision how YOU think buying a car in El Lay would go. If you are imagining sleazy salesmen with greased back hair and thick accents YOU ARE CORRECT.

I was not willing to work with the sleazies.

Mother (via phone) and I did, HOWEVER, end up finding a diamond in the rough among salesmen. And I feel like I didn’t get screwed over TOO BADLY (some screwing over was inevitable).

Truth be told, throughout this process mother and I probably racked up an ENORMOUS phone bill. Pretty sure my cell phone never left my ear and now sometimes even when I am not on the phone with her and everyone around me is real quiet, I can hear mother’s sound car buying advice. It is as if we never hung up.

YEAH, WHATEVER buying a car is scary and I wanted my mommy to help me. SO WHAT!? At least I paid for it (mostly) by myself like a grown up.

So now I drive a spaceship and I feel pretty badass about it. Mainly because the windows are uber tented so sometimes (read: all the time) I like to pretend I am an eco-friendly celebrity.

Speaking of fame. Remember that one time I was on TV?

Well I filmed another piece that was suppose to be in last weeks episode but I didn’t make the cut. And at first I was all like super bummed about it. But then I saw my clip and I was super thankful because my thighs looked super huge.

Don’t worry though, I have cut out my huge thighs AND fulfilled a lifelong dream (read: two week long dream) to GIF myself. Here you goes…

Character based on real life bitchiness.

So exciting.


Adieu for now, loyal readers (read: hey mom, call you in a bit). I’ll try to be back ASAP but its going to be another busy week for me. In addition to buying a new car I also signed a lease for a new apartment.

And now after buying a car and signing an apartment lease within 4 days of one another, I gotta hustle. Because I am SO poor after those two big gurl purchases.

SO poor.

That Audi R8 may yet be a few more years away.


P.S. I named the new car. Pretty Pretty Princess Prius or Pretty Pretty Alien Princess Prius depending on my mood.

Worth it for a Weird Bird

Since I moved out here more than one person has warned me that I shouldn’t let LA change me. Very omnimously too. Like I’m grabbing coffee with Senator Palpatine or I’m about to go on a date with Dracula and I’ll be enticed to the dark side.

Dracula is ALWAYS fun to reference because the love interest is named Wilhelmina. You know, to this day, vampires hit on me just because I share that name. Weird.

Don’t sweat it, peeps.

I’m still just as much the weird bird now as I ever was and you guys should know better than to think that this personality could be changed…or even helped. Just today I googled the traits of Aspergers and I’m pretty sure I’m about 20 years and one major diagnosis too late for any real help.

If anything I’m probably just a bit more all over the place then I was before because, as previously mentioned, I’m super busy trying to make ‘that paper.’ You see, semi-unfortunately, I chose a career in an industry that cost millions and pays millions and makes millions but only if you’re at the top and I’m like below the bottom of the bottom. So besides my job in “the industry,” I also have a job in the business of folding cashmere. Real life retail. But that still doesn’t add up to much money and once a month rent takes most of my earnings THEN also sucks away a piece of my soul.

Rent. Soul sucking Dementor. Same thing.

But it’s cool breeze, one day I’ll be giving my Oscar speech and I’ll say, “people currently below the bottom of the bottom, I was once in your shoes and I know what it’s like, so persevere because I’m mega rich now.” By the way, I’m going to be winning the Oscar for best adapted screenplay OF MY OWN NOVEL.

Set your Tivos for Oscars 2017-ish or maybe 2022-ish…

The Future

I have to say my parents are like THE. BEST. and are totally supportive of me chasing that dream BUT I don’t like the idea of asking them for monies all the time and therefore being a spoiled little bitch.

So that’s why I have more than one job and now my parents and Destiny’s Child can be proud that I am an independent woman and subsequently throw my hands up in the air because I can pay them bills bills bills (too far on the references, I know).

Beyonce and her back up singers call upon all of us to be independent women.

There is only one thing that is pretty uniquely LA that I have allowed to ‘change’ my way of thinking. Life expectancy.

LA has led me to believe I’m at infant status out here and I have a plenty of time to do what I want.

Real Time Self Portrait.

Let me explain.

First things first, if you don’t know, I am not just an enthusiast of the word “ya’ll,” rather the word has been a part of my vernacular from an early age because I’m from the south. Like the south south. Like cajun country south Louisiana south.

My mother recently sent me this picture after a rousing hunt in South Louisiana.

You’re totally just realizing that Britney and I are statemates and now you’re a super green envy monster, aren’t you?

OMG Britney, we totes have matching lily white southern Louisiana asses so that makes us BFFs.

So anyway, in the South big time life things happen at a different pace than they do out here, or that’s what the Facebook tells me anyway.

I’ve been pretty consistently following the same routine. I go to work(s) THEN I go home, shower, get in bed and read myself my favorite bedtime story– my Facebook newsfeed.

I’ve noticed trends in newsfeed happenings.

Sometimes the big news is from a friend back home who is my age: there is an engagement or everyone is congratulating an acquaintance from high school on her pregnancy or a college friend bought their first home.

Sometimes the big news is from a LA friend who is my age: they ran into a B-list celeb in the bathroom, they’re ranting about traffic or they got promoted from assistant of the assistant to just assistant…but usually they’re ranting about traffic.

Stark contrast.

Is bad. We know.

Almost every time I’ve had a conversation with someone out here about what I ultimately want to do they always say, “you’re so young” or “you have plenty of time.”

Meanwhile, I’m like, “dude, have you checked out YOUR Facebook newsfeed lately?!” People my age are making major life decisions and the biggest decision I made today was whether I wanted red or white Two-Buck-Chuck at Trader Joe’s.

Two Dollar Charles.

And while I’m all like congratzies on the minature versions of yourselves and on your promotion from assistant assistant to assistant, alike, I’m also all like huh? There are some major discrepancies between LA and the rest of America and that’s kind of whack.

I was having one particularly anxiety ridden day this past Saturday. Amidst folding and stacking paisley printed capris I was doing some deep thinking and so as not to be disturbed I attempted to disguise my employee status and blend in with the customers by occasionally holding the clothing up against my body as if pondering the fit.


  • Why would anybody buy these pants?
  • Why am I here when my friends are day drinking?
  • Did the dog in that lady’s purse just poop or does she just smell that bad?
  • Why are people I graduated with making $100,000 a year being investment bankers while I’m making $10 an hour trying to explain to a lady that she just isn’t a size 4?
  • Please don’t ask me to help you.
  • Please don’t ask me to help you.
  • Please don’t ask me to help you.

“Excuse me, do you work here?”


After a long pause in which I consider lying or pretending that I don’t speak English I reluctantly answer in the affirmative (in English) and begin to help this red-headed lady and her blonde friend.

The redhead had a LARGE return and was making a LARGE purchase so we were about to spend some quality time together at the register because that kind of transaction takes forevs. As I diligently began ringing up the order the two of them (who were so obviously best friends) started joking around and I think I hear one of them quote an episode of Fox’s freshman hit show, “New Girl.”

So I ask.

“Did you just quote New Girl?”

“No, but it’s funny you should mention that…” the blonde says then makes eye contact with her red-headed bff before looking back at me quizzically.

What? Why is that funny? Are they laughing at me? What are they saying to one another with their eyes? THEY ARE TALKING WITH THEIR EYES!

Am I the one that smells like poop?

“It’s just we have a friend that works on the show,” the redhead chimes in.

“Ugh! I don’t even know your friend but I am SO jealous. I would love to work for Liz Meriwether. You know who Liz Meriwether is, right?”—

I do not pause at this point as normal, socially adjusted humans would.

“Liz Meriwether is AMAZING. She is a young female screenwriting genius who created, writes, and directs New Girl and she has written big studio movies and she is part of this all female power posse group called The Fempire with Diablo Cody and these other two geniuses whose names I can’t remember right now but they are all so successful and I moved out here to be a writer and I want to be JUST like them when I grow up.”

I stop for a breath and subsequently finally give my listeners time to respond and they do so in the form of introducing themselves to me….

As Dana Fox and Lorene Scafaria, the two other ‘geniuses whose names I couldn’t remember.’


"The Fempire"; Dana Fox, Diablo Cody, Liz Meriweather and Lorene Scafaria.

They’re best friends. They’re all writers. They’re all successful.

“I adore them and I’m terrified of them,” said Jason Reitman, who directed “Juno.” “There’s so much talent packed in the group. Writing is such a solitary activity. The idea that they have each other is quite lovely. When I think of the four of them together, writing, of course I’m jealous.” (via The New York Times)

Right you are, Reitman. I too am jealous and in awe and fascinated and inspired.

Think: Juno, Young Adult, United States of Tara, Jennifer’s Body, What Happens In Vegas, Couples Retreat, The Wedding Date, Ned Fox is My Manny, Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Seeking a Friend For the End of the World, New Girl, No Strings Attached.

They’re getting things done.

BUT the best part was THEY. WERE. SO. COOL.

We had an extensive conversation about being a female writer trying to make it out here. They asked me questions, answered mine, gave me advice, but, most importantly, encouraged me to keep on truckin.

AND, surprise, they told me I was young– real young getting started out here and it took them 10 years to get where they are today so don’t give up.

Ya’lls. In 10 years some people my age will have 10 year olds.

In the immortal words of Kanye, “That shit cray.”

I often turn to Kanye and Jay for advice.

I will hopefully have a baby then, too– a screenplay I can love and care for and raise to go out into the world of the moving pictuahs, I tell you!

Nobody said following your dreams to Hollywood would be easy. I knew instability would come with the territory. I knew when I came and still know it is going to take me a long time to do this thing.

BUT I think it will be worth it. I bet The Fempire would say its worth it.

At least I know it was worth folding some premium capri pants to get advice from two fourths of arguably the best and most sought after group of female writers in Hwood today.


And I bet one member of the Fempire in particular would say its worth it when you get to go on laser tag dates with a certain recently divorced dream boat.

When I got home from work the day I met Lorene I saw this picture on a gossip site. Apparently this happened mere hours after our interaction. Word is they're dating. I wonder if she told him that she met one of her fangirls earlier in the day? If so, Ashton and I basically know each other. Yeah. Totes.

Oh gurl.


A 62 Year Old Man Stole My Heart

If you haven’t heard of Downton Abbey yet then I am overjoyed that beings on other planets have access to our American internets and are reading this! Live long and prosper, ya’ll.

If, however, you live on planet Earth and are unfamiliar with the hit TV show Downton Abbey then come on friend, let’s get with it. This is 2012. Welcomes. I volunteer myself as your tour guide.

First things first, its Downton not Downtown.

While watching the 2011 Emmy Awards I remember getting so facking pissed because this random show from the U.K. was taking away awards from my favorite U.S. of America actors. On top of this Downton Abbey (which based on name alone I thought was about some downtown housing for monks) stealing all the limelight, I also had to deal with the great Michael Scott Snub of 2k11– aka Steve Carrel as Michael Scott from The Office up for an Emmy for the last time and losing to some Big Bang theory fast-talker. Let me just say, I’ve been in the same room as Jim Parson before and I don’t think he deserves an Emmy for playing his annoying self.

How can you say NO to THIS Mr. Emmy Voter?

Fast forward from Emmy night to late December when both of my roommates were enjoying extended holiday vacations and I was already back in L.A. trying to make that paypah. I was fighting another one of my usual bouts of insomnia when, alone in my apartment and convinced a serial killer was standing in the darkened corner of my bedroom, I decided to peruse the watch instantly pages of Netflix to distract myself from my impending murder. I ran across Downton Abbey Season 1 and pressed play because the best thing to lure me to sleep would be a horribly boring British PBS show about British aristobrats, amiright or amiright?


I am wrong. Each episode is over one hour long. I watched five straight. Then my alarm went off and I had to go to work sans sleep. That day I was cranky and mean and could only think about one thing…will Cousin Matthew ever tell Lady Mary how he feels about her or what? I mean come on hombre, let’s do this. Yes, you are technically cousins but whatever.

Cousins are legal in like ten states so it's fine, right?

I mean this stuff is CAPTIVATING. After watching season 1 all the way through I made it my life goal to track down season 2 as quickly as possible.  Having already aired in the U.K. I knew it was out there somewhere so I went all Veruca Salt on the internet’s ass and demanded my golden egg in the form of season 2 streaming on my computer IMMEDIATELY. Ever the internet pirate, I found that shit.

Money buys the internet, therefore everything.

I is so sorry.

I won’t ruin anything for you by sharing details but, generally speaking, season 2 is much better than season 1. And, oh gurl, Cousin Matthew looks so much more handsome now that he lost all that weight between season 1 and 2.

Fat Matthew vs. Skinny Matthew. Dan Stevens is said to have put himself on a strict diet prior to filming season 2 because fans claimed he was not attractive enough for Lady Mary in season 1.

The ensemble drama set at the start of the 20th century was/is created, directed, and written by Julian Fellowes. When I first saw Julian Fellowes I tried to practice what my mother preached to me when I was a small Wilhelmina and not judge a book by its cover. Mr. Fellowes is a 62 year old man who I can describe no better than saying, “he looks like he is a member of the GOP or quite possibly Dick Cheney himself that writes under the pseudonym Julian Fellowes.”

Essscuse me DICK CHENEY what are you doing writing romantical television?!

Oddly enough, Julian Fellowes is actually a member of England’s House of Peers and holds the inherited title ‘Lord of the Manor of Tattershall’ from his father (but is not Dick Cheney). So homie knows what he is talking about because he’s totally around snobs all the time BUT THE KICKER IS HE HAS A HEART AND HE IS REALLY GOOD AT WHAT HE DOES.

Don't let his appearance fool you. This man is heartbreaker.

I KNOW curiosity doesn’t exactly get roused reading the Downton Abbey logline alone…

“The series is set in the fictional Downton Abbey, the Yorkshire country house of the Earl and Countess of Grantham, and follows the lives of the aristocratic Crawley family and their servants during the reign of King George V.”

BUT HAVE FAITH. Mr. Fellowes was an Oscar winner (for his Gosford Park screenplay in 2002) way before Downton and all those Emmys. On top of that, he is a best selling romance novelist (under the pen name Rebecca Greville) and a renowned playwrite so OBVIOUSLY I am not the only one who thinks he’s good at what he does.

Among Fellowes' work; Vanity Fair, The Young Victoria, and Gosford Park.

Still doubting him? Hear this…

Mr. Fellowes married the love of his life, Emma, twenty three years ago when he was 39 and she was 24. Apparently Emma’s mother was reluctant about the marriage and instead wanted her daughter to marry a more age appropriate former flame named Evelyn. Now, in her old age, Julian’s mother-in-law insists on calling him Evelyn.

Note: Lady Mary's season 1 suitor/competition to Matthew, Mr. Evelyn Napier.

I can only imagine how that must hurt but Julian chooses not to correct her.  He understands what it feels like to want two people to end up together so very badly as well as understands what it feels like to NOT want two people to end up together. In fact, his grasp on the concept is so great that he translated it into his scripts and now millions of people feel that way towards his characters. Bates and Anna. Matthew and Mary. Lavinia. Sir Richard. The slutty Turk. William. Daisy. Carson and Hughes. Sybil and….well, watch and find out.

Love hurts, ya’ll, but you just gotta put your heart in Mr. Fellowes’ skilled hands.

Ladies of Downton/Emmy winners.

If I STILL have not convinced you, then I will let Michelle Dockery (Lady Mary) try…

“Apart from the brilliant writing, the costumes, and the nostalgia, I think the audience is seeing something completely new,” said Dockery. “There comes an energy with that, which just keeps the audience wanting more. We were always told about this ‘Downton depression’ that people suffered once it finished.” (via The Daily Beast)

I do want more. So much more. I have suffered a severe case of Downton Depression and, unfortunately, the third season is shooting in the U.K. right now and will not air in England until the Fall of 2012 therefore not in America until Winter 2013. BUT I JUST CAN’T DEAL WITH THAT.

Once you watch you will understand and suffer as I do.

After you watch or if you have already, here is some temporary relief of Downton Depression until our beloveds join us again:

1. One minute relief: Just this week our very own American girl, Shirley MacLaine, made her appearance on set as Cora Crawley’s mother. Whatever could she be up to across the pond? Think about that.

Shits getting real, ya'll. Real American. Shirley stops by.

2. Five minutes of relief: check out this article which shows what the actors look like on set vs. off set.

Our favorite bitch, O'Brien, takes some ugly pills before filming each scene. In real life she's kind of a knockout.

3. Cat lovers and Downton fanatics alike will enjoy the parody, Downton Tabby. Everyone else will be creeped out.

4. Fall into a GIF trance at the “Fuck Yeah Michelle Dockery” tumblr.

5. SPOILER: If you have seen season 1 and season 2 then you can look at this and squeal like I did BUT it might just make your Downton Depression worse…

6. Real journalism and whatnot.

6. LEST WE FORGET…we can just spend our time ogling the most important character(s?) in all of Downton.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Michelle Dockery’s eyebrows…

I hope both eyebrow right and eyebrow left get nominated for Emmys next year.

I tried to emulate them by darkening my own but then I got sweaty.

6. Join me in crying for 11 months.

Obi Wan Fellowes, you’re my only hope.