I don’t remember how it started. I think a phone call from Beat the Geeks, saying that a friend of mine recommended me as a contestant and they were about to start their new season. That had to have been it, because I’ve since been called by other game shows, and they’re always dropping some name from my Palm Pilot, telling me I’d be perfect for this new show. Flattery and name-dropping, even in the game show circuit, it’s still Hollywood.
I had to go to the studio and fill out an application. They took a Polaroid of me and had me list quirky, interesting facts about myself. Then I had to list my friends and their phone numbers. “Only girls!” they shouted. “We don’t need any more men.” See how easy it is to get chicks’ digits?
I had to stand in front of this small crowd and answer six questions, I think, two from each category (TV, Film, Music). I only got one wrong, which was, “Who sang the lead song for The Fall Guy?” The funny thing is I had a mental conversation with myself a few months before where I pondered the fact that I knew nothing about The Fall Guy and wondered if it was going to cost my Trivial Pursuit points. So there you go. Know everything. I guessed “Heather Locklear,” and they told me I was “close.”
At the risk of sounding like I make up every crazy thing that happens around here, a car just crashed into the front of my neighbor’s house.
Everybody’s okay, the car’s pretty much totaled and the house suffered worse damage than one would think. I was just sitting here working when I saw a car roll right into the house. I guess they were turning around, using my neighbor’s driveway, when the brakes failed. Boom. The cats were so instantly alarmed that I thought somehow the car had crashed into our house even though I saw what had happened.
Happy birthday, Mommy.
So it’s two in the morning and I still haven’t gone to sleep. I figure if I don’t write about my day now I might not ever put it all down.
There was a diner in Long Island with the cheapest breakfast I’ve ever had. Then unpacking, email, showering, phone calls. No time for a nap. A train into the city.
The first step off the train felt enormous. I could feel the energy of the city rush past me, informing me rather quickly that things moved at a different pace around here. I turned my head to comment, but my friend was already nine paces ahead of me, well used to the rhythm of the city. I’m glad I didn’t wear the fancy shoes, but I wish I had worn my sneakers. The soles of my feet have blisters from today, which was supposed to be our “light walking day.”
Immediately there was a subway and it finally hit me that I was in New York. All the sounds crashed around me. The smell of urine and trash smacking your face at certain corners. Seeing the drop off a platform and thinking how easy it would be to just fall in there. I was in New York, somehow. When did that happen? I was just in Los Angeles.