This morning I brought a box to work.  It was just a plain old empty box, and when I got to the office I filled it with my stuff, said goodbye to the Iranian girl who is the only one in my company still talking to me, and walked out the door.  I don’t know if anyone even noticed.  My lawyer was the one who advised me to do this, she said the stress of working in such a hostile environment was making me sicker, and I suppose it was, but I hate to give my New Boss the satisfaction of winning our little war.  As I walk down the path from our office building to my car, I realize I thought this would feel more liberating, as I’m quitting as opposed to getting fired, but instead I’m scared to death.  I haven’t gotten paid yet for writing the television pilot, and who knows if they will ever pay me now that I have quit my job on them.  I got a small check for the rights to the internet column, but that will barely cover my bills for the next two months.  When my company decided to turn my internet column into a television show I thought that was my Big Break.  Turns out it was just a small break.  Another small break was the deal the Notorious Book Publisher offered me for the rights to the novelized version of my column: that was an even tinier break. I will be able to buy some new underwear and a magazine with that money.  I always thought a book deal and a burgeoning television show would mean I would finally not have to worry about money for a while, but apparently I will never be rich.    

Luckily I still have friends in Hollywood, and only five minutes after I put out the word I’m looking for a job, I have a job interview.  They say love is all timing, and jobs are no different.  I don’t have time to change, but luckily I dressed up for my dramatic exit this morning, and I drive over the Hill to the Universal Lot hoping by some miracle I land this job.  The job is to be Creative Executive for a man who produced The Sixth Sense, among other movies.  I wonder if I should mention to him that when that movie came out I thought of making a short film called The Seventh Sense, about a guy who has heightened gaydar.  The opening shot in the movie would have been a man on an exercise bike looking out over a city.  Through all the windows in the neighboring buildings, he sees Gay men in various states of undress, and he says, predictably, “I see Gay People.”  When I sit down with the Producer, though I immediately can see he does not have a sense of humor, so I keep my little spoof idea to myself. 


D-Girl Diary tomorrow! (d girls image artist Tashina Suzuki)