Tag: Dork
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Possibly the Only Perk About Not Being Allowed to Play Roller Derby.
[scripty] PAMIE A quick impression of the lady who just gave me a pedicure. She was like, “OH.” Held up my foot. “Oh.” JASON That poor woman. PAMIE I know. She put on latex gloves. Nobody else was wearing gloves. It was embarrassing. She thought I had some kind of foot condition. JASON Did you…
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Big Week, Big Day
1. Success! We hit over 200 donations for the Dewey Donation System! 2. The show I was working on over the winter, Romantically Challenged, starring Alyssa Milano, premieres tonight on ABC after Dancing With the Stars. I believe in the next month they’re airing four of the six episodes we shot. 3. Going in Circles…
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on hospitals and aliens.
Dewey update: eighty donations to hospitals, detention centers, schools and library programs. It’s a rough time for fundraising, you guys. I know that I did this all quickly and on the sly, and you have all been fantastic at spreading the word, including some heavy twitter-hitters, but normally Dewey gets a few more books than…
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a very quick play about my knee.
[scripty] INTERIOR DOCTOR’S OFFICE — BEVERLY HILLS — AFTERNOON DOCTOR Okay, so how’s your knee? PAMIE Well, it feels really wonky. And after some consultations with Dr. Google, I think it might be my PCL. DOCTOR (instantly skeptical) Uh-huh. PAMIE Look, I know. I know. But my knee was injured here, like this, with the…
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Weeeee! You I You Weeee Meeeee Meeee! Youuuuu! They You I Meeeeee They Us!
We all have those dreams where we think of the most brilliant joke or story and when we wake up we forget what it was. If we do remember the joke — usually in the shower or on the drive to work, when our brains go back to slumber-numb — it’s usually a letdown. I…
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Unsent Love Letters: It’s Different at Sixteen.
I have to admit I almost stopped after the last entry of my unsent love letters. Maybe it’s because I can see how awkward fifteen was, with the repeated unrequited love, and my completely obvious lack of experience. I was able to laugh at myself. But sixteen. I don’t know. I kind of still remember…
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“When all you wanted was to be wanted…”
I’m sad/relieved to tell you that we are rounding out the end of my essays/letters/diary entries from my fifteenth year. Actually, there are a few I didn’t share with you, mostly because they are way too listy or factual. I found a twelve-page essay about the time my Gifted class went to the Houston Fine…
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100 Bottles of Rain on My Soul, 100 Bottles of Rain! [5 Feb 91]
Someone recently asked me if I make up any portion of Little Pam’s letters. I told her that, sadly, I do not. The look of shock and pity on her face… I won’t forget that. So it’s probably a good thing I’ve gotten you accustomed to what I was like at fifteen before I found…
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chapters
All this rehashing of my high school years might be undoing years of therapy. I think I can safely blame Facebook for part of it. I’m new to it. Look, I had a Geocities account, whippersnappers. And I made it safely through both the Friendster and MySpace Administrations. But Facebook, that’s where you all are.…
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Little Pam Gets Personal
Oh, man. I don’t know what was going on with me the winter of my fifteenth year, but I was wrestling with some serious hormones. 20, Jan., 1991 Look at me. Look into my eyes. Let me look into you. Let me look beyond that mask you wear into your real feelings — your real…