Pamela Ribon is an author, screenwriter, actor, and Wonder Killer. This is her diary. Sort of.

 

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Daniel J. Blau writes musicals, recaps for TWoP, and travels back and forth between New York and LA because he's just that cosmopolitan.

Monica!
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Book Drives:
2005 Tsunami Book Drive
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Oakland Public Library

 

©1998-2005, Pamela Ribon

archives


2003-09-03
2003-09-04
2003-09-05
2003-09-06
2003-09-07
2003-09-08
2003-09-09
2003-09-10
2003-09-12
2003-09-13
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2003-10-11
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2003-10-27
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2003-11-21
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2003-12-01
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2003-12-11
2003-12-14
2003-12-15
2003-12-16
2003-12-18
2003-12-19
2003-12-20
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2003-12-29
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2003-12-31
2004-01-05
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2004-01-11
2004-01-12
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2004-01-15
2004-01-16
2004-01-18
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2004-01-27
2004-01-28
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2004-02-09
2004-02-11
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2004-02-14
2004-02-15
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2004-02-18
2004-02-19
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2004-02-23
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2004-02-28
2004-03-01
2004-03-02
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2004-03-07
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2004-03-11
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2004-03-23
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2004-03-29
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2004-08-02
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2005-01-06
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2005-01-31
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2005-02-14
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2005-02-20
2005-02-21
2005-02-22
2005-02-24
2005-02-25
2005-03-02
2005-03-03
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2005-03-07
2005-03-08
2005-03-09
2005-03-10
2005-03-11
2005-03-14
2005-03-15
2005-03-19
2005-03-22
2005-03-23
2005-03-24
2005-03-28
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2005-04-07
2005-04-11
2005-04-12
2005-04-13
2005-04-14
2005-04-15
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2005-04-18
2005-04-20
2005-04-21
2005-04-25
2005-04-26
2005-04-28
2005-05-01
2005-05-06
2005-05-07
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2005-05-12
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2005-05-18
2005-05-19
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2005-05-26
2005-05-29
2005-05-31
2005-06-02
2005-06-04
2005-06-05
2005-06-06
2005-06-07
2005-06-13
2005-06-14
2005-06-15
2005-06-16
2005-06-19
2005-06-20
2005-06-22
2005-06-25
2005-06-26
2005-06-29
2005-07-01
2005-07-04
2005-07-08
2005-07-10
2005-07-12
2005-07-14
2005-07-15
2005-07-16
2005-07-17
2005-07-19
2005-07-20
2005-07-21
2005-07-22
2005-07-23
2005-07-24
2005-07-25
2005-07-27
2005-07-28
2005-07-30
2005-07-31
2005-08-01
2005-08-02
2005-08-03
2005-08-04
2005-08-06
2005-08-07

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, November 21, 2003

dan checks in from the road 

I'm sitting in a hotel in midtown in the city that I live in. I've already charged over $50 to my room, because the people who put me here can afford it. Excuse me while I go mail some pointless letters to friends I haven't seen in a while. After that, maybe I'll order a muffin.

Y'all go read some Cat in the Hat reviews, if you can hear yourself think over the sound of Mike Myers's career plummeting toward earth. I absolutely delight in negative film reviews; it's not that I enjoy seeing hardworking filmmakers cut down a notch, because I do believe it is harder to make a film than it is to review one. However, I think there's a real art in the negative review, a real emotional investment on the part of the reviewer to see a terrible movie for the mistake of the medium that it so clearly is, and to punish it accordingly. Just for sport, I used to see every movie that Entertainment Weekly gave a hardcore "F" to, and I saw one of the worst movies I've ever seen (Val Kilmer's classic ode to cold fusion The Saint) and one of the best (that's right, America…EW gave a failing grade to O Brother Where Art Thou).

In other riveting news, the new and final Bachelor recap is up. One week until Trista and Ryan's wedding, and probably one more week after that until the next season starts anew.

New Entry: Dear Michael Jackson. 

I made myself feel guilty. So here's a new entry. It's more of a letter to an old boyfriend. I'm feeling a little conflicted, as you can see.

Allison is what she hates 

Miss "Blogs Suck" has a journal with blog blood and bones. She makes it look so easy. So easy, in fact, that she's now Employee of the Month. One of my favorite things about Al is how she can get those she loathes to embrace her like family.

The Soap Is Good 

Weetabix testifies to the power of The Soap. I wasn't kidding around. It's good shit.

we got out in time 

Dan, it looks like we dumped Friendster before it grabbed us into its cult clutches. People are finding it impossible to break up with now because they removed the option. [thanks, Jon, for the link].

I'm sorry I've been gone. I have a good excuse. I'm pitching a project at the same time I have both a new script and manuscript out, all while temping for The Bachelorette 2. I've barely seen the inside of my house this week. Taylor ran to the door the other night when I got home. Taylor. Who hates all. But cross your fingers for me. This is the best kind of busy, and I'm hoping at least one of these things gets sold. These are the projects I've been working on all year, and now they're all happening at the same time. It's overwhelming, but fun. I am now three weeks behind in email.

Did I mention I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner next week? I'm going to have to ask Santa for a vacation.

 

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