Screw 'Em

After having read this I must say I don't feel one bit sorry for the writer's anymore. The particular line is, " Studios typically pay $500,000 to $2 million a year per writer for them and their staffs to develop new show concepts."

Screw 'em! Let them go out and get regular jobs and then maybe they'll appreciate what they had.

I have been so busy. I finally have a moment so I thought I would step in and say hello.

The Derby. I am in love with this sport. I lookforward to every practice and after every one I feelexhausted, exhilarated, and alive. And usually sore. Last night we did not skate; we had a short lesson on eating healthy. I was a bit disappointed to not skate, but the lecture was informative. I had no idea I knew so much about it already! I’d like to thank Issy for that.

Tomorrow we go back to skating and drills. Ah, the drills, how I loves me some drills. There is nothing like screaming around a corner terrified of colliding with other teammates while also dodging balls and traffic cones being gleefully thrown at you to get the blood flowing. These are my future teammates and they’re trying to run me over, I love it. This is the hard, torturous, strategic, often violent outlet I was looking for. I’m starting to feel more comfortable

around the other girls. I’m still intimidated by a few of them. But I’m finally remembered some names and finding some things in common. Teamwork is not something the Arch Rival Roller Girls is lacking.

Work is finally slowing down. The holidays are over so I can get back into a routine again. I’m anal enough to need one in order to live happily.

I was watching this TV show and I saw something I couldn’t believe. I guess the censors were taking a coffee break when that scene was shot. It’s nothing dirty or shocking, it’s just unrealistic. This woman is sitting on her bed, she's just come home, and is

flipping through TV channels with a remote. A spider crawls out from under her hair, across her forehead, and down over her eye. This woman lightly brushes away the spider, makes that “Ew” face as she does so, and then goes back to flipping channels.

Excuse me?

What testosterone-laden cave man world did this director grow up in? There isn’t a woman I know who would react that way to a spider crawling out of her hair and into her eye. Every woman I know, when that spider set one little foot on her forehead, would have jumped up out of that bed and started slapping her own face, screaming that high-pitch dog-calling screech

that only we women are capable of reaching and doing alittle heebie-jeebies dance on the bedroom floor. There wouldn’t have been no eye, that spider wouldhave been pulp in seconds flat, and then she would have knocked herself out running into the wall trying to reach the bathroom to wash her face off. At least, that’s what my friend would have done. Then she would have called me and relived the whole experience all over again.

Please. Introduce a spider into a large, vacant room and watch the women turn into three-year-old girls.

My sister goes back to work today after having six weeks off after having my niece. She is not taking it well. She’s going back to a pay raise, that’s always nice. Seems the boss finally realized just how hard my sister works. He was so lost without her he asked her to come back early from maternity leave. Sis told him to shove it, thus the raise. Good girl!

My husband and I are doing great. He gets to play WOW three nights a week now that I have derby practice, things couldn’t be better. Seems someone might just miss me when I’m gone. Yeah, I’m talking about the dog. He’s having a major case of withdrawal anxiety. The cat could care less.

I’ve been writing more. I’ve decided to post some of it when I have it edited. I’m interested to see what you think.