Getting So Serious Right Now

Hate to burden you with my writing goals but, like I said, I need you to keep me accountable, dear lovers and friends (don't worry, you don't actually have to do anything).

My professional goals are pretty ambitious but... when you're trying to break into a super competitive field, the least you can be is ambitious, right? Right.

1. Write six spec scripts
Breaks down to two months per script. Insanely slow rate for a real TV writer but with my day job and all the other stuff I'm doing, this will definitely be a challenge. Still, I need to speed it up if I'm going to make it in a writers' room.

2. Write at least two pilots
I've got a couple ideas, including one with my high school BFF Philly. The time has come to actually write the scripts and all the other stuff that goes along with them.

2a. Film a pilot?
I saw so many awesome independent pilots at the New York Television Festival this year. I'd like to enter for 2013, but I know little about film production and it might not be feasible. But I'm trying.

3. Enter all fellowships and three festivals
There are 4 or 5 major TV writing fellowships, with the first deadline being Nickelodeon, starting this month. The good thing about the fellowships is that they all want spec scripts and I can use the same one or two for all of them.

The first festival entry is just a 90-second pitch for the Austin TV Festival, due on youtube in two weeks.

4. Create website
I need a website that has more than this blog on it. Not sure what, but something.

5. Increase blog following
If I knew how to do this one, I would've done it already. I think part of it involves migrating to wordpress, which is giving me problems. This is especially important because I've heard that studios are looking to blogs for TV content, so if I could actually make this blog happen, it could concretely help me out.

Take, for example, Myra at www.myparentsarecrazierthanyours.com, who is getting her mini-series financed based on her blog (also about living at home) and pretty much living the dream.

Bottom Line
Last year, I made it my resolution to pursue being a TV writer. I've kept it up for a whole year (a long time for me) but I've only just dipped my toe in the water. I guess my professional resolutions can be summed up as Get Serious in 2013.

credit

Feel free to leave me some words of encouragement. Or, you know, tell me to shut up and talk about Daddy's latest shenanigans.

Merry Christmas! I'm Getting Fat

Ok, so I'm not getting fat by American standards. I'm probably not even near average for good ol' USA. But I'm slowly and steadily gaining weight, even if I'm the only one that notices.

September

December

Of course, eventually someone is bound to notice. And that someone is Daddy.

Yesterday morning, during Christmas breakfast...

Daddy: Wow, you're really eating a lot, Jilly. You finished your omelette and now you're eating two pieces of French toast? Daddy's never seen you eat like this.

I pause, thinking maybe I shouldn't eat all this.

Jilly: It's not... that much.

Mommy: You'd be surprised. She can eat more than you'd think and stay that small.

Daddy: What do you think? Now that you're married, you can eat as much as you want?

This was met by an "Ohhhhhhh" from the rest of the family, the type usually reserved for "yo mama" jokes on the playground. Daddy quickly laughed it off, assured me he was kidding, and kissed me one too many times on the cheek.

Daddy, we're not friends. When I can curse in front of you, you can make jokes.

Am I The Only One That Still Loves Friendly's?

This ode* to Friendly’s has to do with another story (I swear I’ll get to it), but it turns out I have a lot to say about Friendly’s on its own.

In case you don’t live in the suburbs of the Northeast U.S., Friendly’s is a sit-down diner-esque restaurant chain, that is slightly fancier than Denny’s but less fancy than Ruby Tuesday’s.
...And if you don’t live in the U.S. at all, I’ve made nothing clearer for you - although, side note, we went to a Ruby Tuesday’s in India so that’s apparently universal.

Friendly’s is famous for their ice cream, especially:

The Wattamelon Roll

 sherbet with chocolate chips - you’d think they’d clash but they don’t

And, most of all, the Cone Head sundae.

order it with Black Raspberry (purple!) ice cream

When I was a kid, the Cone Head was the thing. And, it needs to be said, Friendly’s leadership! If you ever stumble on this:

DON’T THINK NOBODY NOTICED THAT YOU TOOK THE EXTRA REESE’S PIECES OUT OF THE BOTTOM OF THE CONE HEAD.

There used to be bonus Reese’s Pieces in the bottom of the sundae and the menu description even said “with a surprise at the bottom” but they stealthily removed that about 15 years ago and I will NEVER forget. Hope you're enjoying all those Reese’s Pieces savings, corporate fat cats. Actually, the company has been struggling in recent years despite improvements made over the last decade, but I digress...

Friendly’s has been a weirdly big part of my life, starting with my childhood. Here’s a preview of my to-be-self-published memoir, titled...

Ice Cream Cone Dreams: My Life in Terms of Friendly’s

When I was a kid, there was a Friendly’s right by our house,which Amy and I used to walk to with our parents. Now that I’m living there again, I’m sad it’s no longer around, and sometimes fantasize about buying the building from Aboff’s and convincing Friendly’s to reopen because the building is still vaguely Friendly’s-shaped.

View Larger Map

My friends and I also used to spend a lot of time at Friendly's in high school. You know, just eating fatty foods, annoying waiters, writing songs and plays, typical trouble-making teenage stuff. The cool kids hanging out at Mill Dam probably had nothing on us.

Many years later, Tom and I bonded over how we both still love Friendly’s and ended up going there on our third date. (Hot!) 

I’m guessing the future includes our taking our kids to Friendly's, and my begging the server to hide some Reese’s Pieces at the bottom of my hypothetical daughter’s sundae until she gets old enough to demand one of their new-fangled sundaes like the Monster Mash or Vol-Cone-O or whatever.

And after that? A Black Raspberry ice cream IV drip in my nursing home? All I know is that my love affair with Friendly’s won’t die until one of us (the restaurant or I) does.

*Disclaimer: I’m fully aware that I should be ashamed of my love for Friendly’s.

Excuses For Not Cleaning

It just occurred to me that anyone reading this blog, who doesn't know me personally, might be under the misconception that I am a clean person, just because I criticize Daddy's cleanliness. Well, I'm not. I try, but I encounter problems, such as:

• It doesn't come naturally to me.
• I didn't learn proper habits until college, and then I only did it begrudgingly under the guidance of the cleaning chart my roommate Peggy made out of a paper plate.
• I'm busy.
• When I'm not busy, I'm lazy.
• I spend a lot of time writing bullet point lists.
• I'm a type B person so I don't really beat myself up for enjoying my weekends.
• I don't hate myself. In fact, I like myself so much that I find my own faults endearing, as if I'm Liz Lemon or Old Christine.

my anti-heroes

Of course, on TV, even slobs have clean houses. I mean, we slovenly viewers don't want to be forced to look at a house that looks just like ours....

Liz Lemon's Ikea furniture

Feel free to lend me your best cleaning excuses.

The Medicine Cabinet

I was going to post my personal restaurant rules today but I could only think of two. I would have been at a loss, but luckily Daddy didn't let me down on the absurdity front...

This morning, I had the urge to clean out the medicine cabinet. I was scared that I would find cobwebs and spiders but it wasn't that bad... just some dust and about 13 years' worth of old medicine. Some of the stuff I threw out includes:

• 2 out of the 3 mostly empty bottles of baby powder;
• Some prescriptions filled at Genovese (which hasn't existed since around 2002);
• An unopened box containing Bacitracin that expired in 2007;
• Iron supplements prescribed to me in 1997 by a doctor that is now dead; and
• Five bags of the rubber bands I had to wear in my braces.

five bags

By the time I was done, there was one bottle of baby powder and a bottle of mineral oil left in the cabinet. I don't know what mineral oil is but it seemed harmless.

I went out to get some cleaning supplies and when I came back... well, I guess if you read The Shower Head Incident, you know what's coming...

Daddy: Why did you throw out everything in Daddy's medicine cabinet without asking?
Me: Are you serious? It was all expired.
Daddy: Well why did you throw out the band-aids?
Me: Did you look at them?
Daddy: Well, if you need a band-aid, it's still better than not having any.
Me: Um... ok. When's the last time you even used anything in there?
Daddy: Daddy uses the baby powder a lot in the summer, actually.
Me: Ok, I kept the biggest, fullest bottle of baby powder.

I went into the bathroom and found that he had recovered from the garbage:

• The unopened, expired Bacitracin;
• The two nearly empty bottles of baby powder;
• The unused gauze wrap (What's wrong with that, you ask? Nothing, except for the dead stinkbug inside the box); and
• The band-aids.

I absolutely want these water-stained Eckerd band-aids on my cut

I re-disposed of the stinkbug gauze, but if he needs three bottles of baby powder to feel in control of his life, so be it. This is the point we're at: I now need permission to throw out garbage.

Daddyism #3

Rabbit Rabbit.

"People are crazy with running red lights."

Daddy and I are picking up Tex Mex.

Daddy: You know, these people are crazy with running red lights.

Me: Uh huh.

Daddy: It's like, I think I'm cutting it close at a light, and then I look in my mirror and see two people go through after me.

Me: I know.


(Daddy has been known to stop at yellow lights.)

Daddy's Restaurant Rules

Happy post-Thanksgiving! Enough with the home cooked food; time to get back to eating out. As I draft this, I'm on my way to meet Daddy for dinner. Started me thinking about all his restaurant rules.

Each of these could be an individual Daddyism, as these are all verbatim phrases that have been repeated to Amy and me for countless years.

Daddy's Restaurant Rules

1. (Re: valet) They want me to pay them to park my car five feet away. You know there's a free lot right across the street, right?

2. (Optional) It's too loud in here. Let's go somewhere else.

3. Close the menu so the waitress knows we're ready. Close it! She's looking over here.

4. The waitress is coming. Get ready! Don't let her walk away; it'll be 20 minutes before we see her again.

Note: I was 21 when I found out you could actually say, "We need a few more minutes." and not be sentenced to starvation.

5. Don't fill up on bread (or chips), girls. 
-or- Don't forget, you have a whole meal coming. 
-or- Save room for dinner.

6. You get one soda, so save it until your meal comes.

6a. (Upon waiter refilling drink) Wait! Are those free refills?

7. (Added circa 2009) Do you have cash? (I usually say no.) What a surprise. I'll give you cash and you can put it on your credit card. Sigh, adulthood.

I will say, in Daddy's defense, that he had 8 brothers and sisters so they never got to go to restaurants as kids. Therefore he couldn't have known his rules would eventually drive me insane.

I'm not without my own quirks. Maybe tomorrow I'll give you Ms. PC's restaurant rules.

Back Home Sitcom, Ep. 1

INT. NEWLYWEDS' BEDROOM - MIDDAY (SUNDAY)

Jill and Tom prepare to leave for the day. Jill puts her laptop in her purse as Tom slips on his jacket. There is a knock at the door. Jill opens it to reveal Daddy.

DADDY

Have you two been eating

in here?

JILL

(Guiltily) Um, yes.

DADDY

Daddy would really prefer

if you didn't eat in here.

This isn't college.

Jill glances at the mini fridge in the corner.

JILL

It feels like college.

DADDY

Yeah, I see that... Just 
eat in the kitchen please.

JILL

(Hangs her head) Ok...

Daddy closes the door as he leaves. Jill looks up at her husband.

TOM
(Whispers) I'm still

gonna eat in here.

A Very Special Blog Post

I hate to get serious, ever, but it's hard for me to laugh about the ridiculousness of living with my dad when I'm actually pissed off...

Daddy is nosy. My mom calls him a yenta. I mostly accept him but it's tough sometimes.

credit

He's been known to ask me inappropriate questions about money. I have no idea how much he makes but he thinks it's fine to ask me how much I make. Whatever.

He has repeatedly asked me, although I have told him many, many times, how much my MBA cost, how much I paid up front, and how much I owe. You know what? He paid for 20% of my graduate degree, which was generous and I did not expect, so if he really needs to know how much I owe in student loans, no big deal.

He also asks me how much I owe in credit card debt, which is patently none of his business. But, it's not that big of a deal to me. I've told my friends and it's not like I have a shopping addiction or something. I just have debt from throwing what constitutes a very modest New York wedding. So fine.

He started getting on my nerves a while ago when he told me, very cautiously at first, that, in his opinion, with a CPA and MBA, I should be making more money.

This pisses me off not because it's nosy, but because it proves that he doesn't know me at all.

Yes, if I sold my soul and went back to public accounting, I could be making a few tens of thousands more than I'm making now. But let's look at the costs:

• Dreams of becoming a writer. (No time to write when you're working every night and weekends.)
• Free time to spend with family, friends and husband.
• Mental and physical health.

Maybe he doesn't care about my writing dreams or free time but the mental health part is non-negotiable. I literally had a nervous breakdown and spiraled into depression at my old job. Guess what? If you can't get out of bed in the morning, your income prospects are severely limited.

Sorry, this is getting really personal. Anyway...

And he seems to think Tom's finances are his business too. So the other day, he's talking to me about how I should really be saving money for a house (because that's all a married woman can dream of, right? No chance I might want to have flexibility to travel?) and I'm nodding and he says:

"And Tom is talking about going to the Olympics in Russia, and I'm like 'Dude, you have $XXX in debt.'"

[Silence.]

Seriously, what the fuck? Does he really think I'm going to take his side over my husband's? And yes, our student loan debt is astronomical. Yes, it's terrible and it's going to take forever to pay off, but what are you saying? We're not allowed to travel for the next 30 years? And I don't even want to go to Russia but he's turning me into a rebellious teenager and now I want to go out of spite!

So I'm stewing, and he continues on about how we'd be surprised how much money we can save if we really try [Trust me, living with Daddy IS trying!] and then he says "You know, it seems to me that you should both be making more money." Enough!!!!

So I say "Daddy, you know, you're getting a little nosy."

And he says "Well, you're living rent-free in my house."

Oh! Didn't know his offer to live with him came with strings attached! 

This is bullshit. Yes, I'm lucky to have him. But I also have a mom and a mother-in-law and a husband's aunt with an empty apartment in Brooklyn and friends and enough money that I could still live on my own (if I never want to pay off my credit card debt) so, you know? Shit, fuck it.

I am tempted to just move out now but Tom is really sick of moving.

I guess I have to have the talk... you know the one, accompanied by sappy music at the end of any very special episode.

Really, my dad just wants to help me make my life perfect. Too bad I've got my own ideas.

Sorry for getting so real with you guys.  To counterbalance this very special post, tomorrow I will post a list of Ms. PC's personal favorite very special episodes.

The Shower Head Incident

Tom and I moved into Daddy's a few weeks ago and immediately noticed that the shower head was super low-flow, which, as we know from Seinfeld, is not good.

my first homemade gif

We bought a new one about two or three weeks ago but didn't install it right away because we couldn't find a wrench. So we got around to it on Friday.

Oh, and when I was at Home Depot, I called and asked Daddy if he wanted me to buy a new faucet for the bathroom (also an issue). He kind of panicked and said that no, we would go after work one night and pick one out together. 

I just want to say right now that I don't give a shit about picking out the new faucet. I just want one with working knobs. Meanwhile, he hasn't done anything about that yet.

Anyway, we changed the shower head without asking. [Dun dun dun!]

#SixSeasonsAndAMovie

Sunday, we got a talking-to:
"Daddy doesn't like unilateral decision making."

Too bad Ms. PC doesn't like low-flow shower heads.

I guess I feel bad because I don't want him to feel like we're taking over his house. But I just don't think he'll do anything if I don't do it myself.

Exhibit A:

my girly stuff juxtaposed with the ultimate bachelor faucet

But anyway, Sunday night I decided to take a nice, long shower in celebration of our new-found water pressure. Unfortunately, the water went completely cold after about 12 minutes.

I told Daddy and he said "That's why Daddy had a regulator in the old one."  Whoops.

6 Things You Forgot About Using The Phone In The 90s

Apologies for not getting my posts out this week but I get a hurricane pass. Daddy got power back yesterday but now the Internet is out. Also went to the library today but their wifi was out too. So I'm typing this on my phone and hoping to upload it in a rare moment of 3G coverage.

So much to talk about. For example...
Crazy gas lines + traffic lights out = full-tilt jungle madness

[Imagine your own Mean Girls gif here. I really can't from my phone.]

Computer edit: try this one.

But my family was very fortunate that we didn't have flooding and none of our persons or property were lost. Daddy's power was out for 4 days and Mommy's has been out for 5 and counting, but we're making the most of it. We've been drinking wine and playing board games at Mommy's every night.

My point is that I have nothing to complain about. However, I am now going to educate you on a little something we call "landlines."

actual phone

We are lucky Mommy kept her old landline from before they got Fios, or we wouldn't even have service. Plus her old corded phone that she dug out of somewhere. And when you can't charge your cell (and then the cell towers go down) it's nice to have a landline. But here are some things you may have forgotten about old school landlines.

1. No caller ID. The phone rings and you have no idea if it's a loved one, a telemarketer, or your stalker. You just pick it up.

1a. Besides not knowing who it is, you also don't know who it's for. At one point we had up to 7 people hunkered down at Mommy's. So you just answer it like "hello?" and then the caller has to, like, say who they are and why they're calling.
Except sometimes they don't. Because they're not used to 90s phones either. So they're just like "Helllloooo having fun???" and you're like "um what?" and eventually figure out it's Aunt Kath's sister in Colorado.

2. Everyone shares one phone. So, if you want to call someone, but someone else is using the phone? You have to... wait.

3. The phone is connected to the wall. So, you can't really walk places. Even if everyone decides to start having a conversation and/or turn up the News Radio 88 right next to you.

4. If you hang up but don't really hang up right... you might hear "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again..." and if you don't hear that you'll almost definitely hear some super loud beeping.

5. Sometimes, after dialing, you might hear... "All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later." or this weird thing called a busy signal. This has actually been happening kind of a lot.

6. There's no browser on your landline. With no internet, you dial 4-1-1 and tell a recording the name of the person or business whose number you need. You are charged extra for this service because they know you must be desperate.

Seriously not complaining. I actually think its funny to relive my childhood. Makes me grateful for the device on which I wrote this entire post. Oh, and now that I'm done, I found out the internet started working again. But since it's 2am, this is what you're getting.

Feel free to share your most cherished inconveniences of the 90s.

Daddyism #2

Rabbit Rabbit.

"You know, you really should be eating more fruit."

My husband, the chiropractor, enters the kitchen.

Daddy: There's a pear in the fridge if you wanna take it for lunch.

Tom: No thanks, I'm ok.

Daddy: You know, you really should be eating more fruits and vegetables. I mean, I'm not trying to tell you what to do but you really should be eating more fruit.

Happy Friday, Or, May This Infernal Week Crawl Back Into The Pits Of Hell From Which It Sprang

Rough week, dear lovers and friends (just for fun). 

On Monday I discovered a minor data error I had made at work and have been spending the rest of the week trying to undo everything that resulted from it. Funny how something tiny can blow up like that.

honey boo boo knows what I'm talkin' about

Things I've neglected this week:

• Following up with Penn Station lost & found (yes, still);
• Hitting up the pashmina guy (I got a tip that he's at 32nd and 7th);
• Unpacking;
• Various plans / calls with friends;
• Any physical activity whatsoever.

Things I have not neglected this week:

• Work;
• Eating, for the most part;
• Pissing off some girl on the LIRR by tapping her on the shoulder (still learning commuter culture).

Things I haven't even attempted but need to get on top of:

• Daddy's house. 
• That's enough of a to do list.

But my BFF Rachel is visiting this weekend so I guess I'll just drink a bunch of wine instead.

guessing it will look something like this...

Ladybugs and Omens

When my parents first moved into their house in Huntington, Mommy found ladybugs everywhere, and she felt like it was her mother's spirit looking after her.

an especially ugly ladybug gif

Ladybugs have always been a special symbol of good luck in my family. There was a ladybug on my leg the day my team won the xAct (xTREME Accounting) local case competition at Binghamton (full on nerd in the house - TF3 forever!) And other than that... I can't remember a specific time when ladybugs have really brought luck but I've always liked them and I got a ladybug tattoo on my hip on my 21st birthday and no you can't see it.

On Sunday, Tom and I returned to this house, which is now Daddy's house. And we were greeted by a different insect...

Bees.

Now, in Tom's family, bees are considered bad luck. Well, it's not so much a family superstition as Tom just doesn't like them because he was stung multiple times as a kid and, really, who needs a bunch of bees around?

When Tom and Daddy went to move our mattress, there was one on the mattress cover, which seemed to be injured. Daddy vacuumed him up. Later, I found one on the bathroom window, which Daddy shooed out. Then there was a dead one on one of Daddy's several keyboards.

Finally, we found the source: the nest in our bedroom window. 

Bees.

Daddy said he'll knock it down but he didn't say when. Then he said "This house just seems to attract bees." Bees.

As we were leaving, a bee landed on our windshield. We then went to the park to enjoy the weather for a few minutes...

And as soon as we sat down, three bees landed on our bench.

Bees.

If my mom took the ladybugs as a sign that she was supposed to be here, what are the bees trying to tell me?

Bee Afraid!

Tonight will be our first night staying at Daddy's.

Mommy's House

Who can resist a look in someone else's house? I used to live at street level on Mott Street, so trust me: no one. It was like living in a freaking store window...

My mom's house is precious, as we say in my family. In fact, we say precious (adj.), preciousness (noun), or preciousing (verb).  As in: "Mommy is preciousing up her dining room." or, the more general: "How precious." (to be said in a mocking tone).

This is a good example of preciousness...

  

precious dolls and dishes above the precioused out window

Here's the dining room...

And one of several wine racks....

Kitchen...

ok, I bought the gourds so maybe I have a little precious in me

Living room...

my mom's super giant clock

still using the summer pillows - the winter pillows are much scratchier :(

The small but precious backyard...

the grill cover is Cutie's

Plus her house comes with precious cats like this...

Oreo

Or this....

Twinkie

Or these....

ok, so it's the same two cats

Mommy's house is my favorite place to be. It's always clean and organized, and filled with good food and family and girly movies.

But now... we're off to Daddy's, which as we know from the preview is not so precious. To be honest, I don't even fully know what I'm getting into. I'll keep you updated.

Pier What-the-F

I'm blogging about Pier 1. This is my life now.

Last Sunday, I actually had a whole day to just relax and maybe even get some writing done. So, of course, I got bored.

Tom wouldn't go to the library with me because he was out of clean clothes. (Should I do something about that? Eh, he'll figure it out.)

Finally, I just needed to go somewhere. And there's a Pier 1 right here so...

Three natural reactions to Pier 1:

1. Some people have too much time and/or money and/or space on their hands.

credit                                                credit

According to Pier 1's website, these are called decorative spheres. So it's like a whole thing.

No offense to anyone that might love decorative spheres and think they're the best thing ever, but my mom doesn't even own any of these and she has different couch pillows for different seasons.

2. I can't wait to have a house, or a home office, or just a room.

super cute wall applique that will make my future home office extra girly

credit

you can't tell but this clock is super giant and I want it

credit

3. Uck, that is bleak.

There's a lot of stationery and cocktail napkins with "funny" sayings on them.

must exit suburbs immediately!!!

credit and full catalog for your ordering pleasure

My big haul:

for the girl with too little time and/or money and/or space

Pocket nail files! 48 cents, y'all! Maybe the smallest purchase in Pier 1 history.

And in conclusion:

Pier 1 embodies everything that is good and bad about the suburbs. And I lovate them for that (excellent new word stolen from saradraws).

Daddyism #1

Rabbit Rabbit.

"It seems like everyone wants money from you these days."

Tom, Daddy, and I are walking from Daddy's to the Mediterranean Snack Bar.

Daddy: You know, it seems like everyone wants money from you these days.

Me: Are you talking abou those kids having a car wash?

Daddy: Well, yeah. Not just there. Everywhere. Like the supermarket. There's always someone outside asking for money for charity. I'm at the point where if I see that, I'll go to a different supermarket.

Me: Seriously?

Daddy: Yeah, and Wendy's. I go there and get two 5 piece spicy chicken nuggets, which costs $2.18, and then they want a dollar for charity.

Me: Uh huh.

(There is no point arguing a Daddyism.)