In my dreams . . .

I meet with my friends in an enormous loft whose main purpose seems to be costume and fabric storage to watch a reading of their TV pilot in which my friend Laura plays a male British soldier with some serious PTSD. I might get to write an episode for the series if the show gets picked up, but I'm worried that I don't know enough about British culture or world politics to pull off this kind of humor.

The funder is an old but stylin' lady, kind of like the talent agent I assisted in LA, and she tells me her secret is that she never eats chicken or dairy or grains. She lives off of legumes. She invites me to pick up a script in a grown-up trapper keeper, but the trapper keeper is full, not of script, but of 200 dollar bills!!! I give them back because I'm honest like that.

I'm enjoying the buffet, munching on some bulbous frozen fruit that is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted (did I mention it is now Deep Winter where I live?) when we get a phone call warning us that renegades are coming to raid the fabric loft!

We run! But as soon as we get outside, it's clear there's something in the air that turns everyone into renegades . . . some are after blood vengeance, some have delusions of persecution, some are forming really cool street gangs.

From this point on, the dream's a dystopian melange of guillotines, apartheid, forgotten children, suicide clothed in martyrdom, Escher-like stairways that fold in on themselves . . .

The survivors gather -- where else? -- in a shopping mall, where we loot for more rugged clothing. As is so often the case in dystopia, the strongest leader is not always the best or the brightest. In this case, he's a charismatic figurehead who looks like Justin Bieber, and he's backed by a ruthless general who's more interested in sadism than survival.

Macaulay Culkin dresses up like a marionette and does a dance in support of the new President.

I try to avoid getting chosen for brainwashing and employment in the killing squads.

Good morning.

Things I Loved about 2010:

Joining a gym -- best choice of the year!

Seeing Barrel of Monkeys pick up some new funding in a rough economy.

Seeing myself pick up some new funding in a rough economy -- mostly in the form of . . .

GIGS! My very favorite new gig is one where I pretend to be an emergency room patient. Usually there's a mannequin, and I'm either the mom of the sick mannequin or the roommate of the sick mannequin, or the voice of the sick mannequin, and real, live doctors have to go along with it and pretend I'm real! Amazing.

The Olympics! I wish they could be every year.

Girlfriends.

My meditation kick.

Teaching with Monkeys at Loyola Park, Columbia Explorers, Avondale, Lorca, Dixon, Kohn, Paderewski, and Chalmers.

Battlestar Gallactica. I watched the whole series this year, and I'm sorry it's behind me.

The Wire. Finished this year. Ditto.

Making a dystopian action flick with 7-9 year-olds.

Visiting the VCFA family for the Alumni Mini-Residency.

Playing Bibi in The Apple at the Neo Film Fest.



Playing Magic Star, the urine-colored My Little Pony at the Neo Film Fest.



Doing enough goofy performances in one summer to warrant a PRODUCE TRIPTYCH!


(Performance pics by Evan Hanover)

Studying Spanish at Digame.

Sharing Girlpocalypse with Laura. FAIR WARNING: Girpocalypse may not be suitable for angels or children.

Finishing a new draft of my novel -- one that is feeling like a real, live book!

Going to my reunion and feeling like things have moved in a net positive direction this decade.

RED HAIR!!! I still love it. I don't care if the children give me funny looks! It makes me happy.



My sweet, funny dog Parker. She died in November. I haven't brought myself to blog about it -- just this much is making me cry. But 2010 was her last, great year.



Spending Christmas in a beautiful place with my rockstar family.


(Pic by my rockstar Dad)