For the first time since moving back to Los Angeles from NYC, I feel like a real Development Girl again.  With Lorna McSlutchen breathing down my neck, I suddenly feel tremendous pressure to be successful.  This week I scheduled drinks with agents and writers, tracked spec scripts and read until my eyes bled.  And with my freakish ability to whip through a script in twenty minutes or less, I feel I’m finally caught up on the time I missed when I was checking into Mental Hospitals and gallivanting around New York with the gorgeous but broken East Coast Sarah.  My boss the quirky Director is not as impressed with my recent efforts though, and calls me into his office during one of his rare visits to our bungalow, and wants to have a talk.

He’s strumming a guitar as he talks to me, which is mildly aggravating.  “You have two sides to your personality,” he says, “the outgoing life-of-the-party who knows everyone in town, and the serious intellectual who writes amazing notes.”  He pauses for effect and I’m feeling less chastised than complimented.  “I don’t like the party girl side,” he says bluntly, and our meeting is over.  I’m not going to clear my calendar, my boss clearly doesn’t know how this town works; it’s not just my ability to recognize good material, its obtaining the material before anyone else, and that only comes from lots and lots of scheduled drinks.

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Tomorrow read the full-on… D-Girl Diary.

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