Friday, September 01, 2006
Cause Ya Gotta Have Faith
Wednesday, pre-Walk to Arco time, post-kids-in-bed-or-I-will-beat-my-head-senseless-with a sippy cup-hour, I got a hurried call from my agent. "I am sending you to a production house in need of new material. Can you send me a few lines on your last few pilots?" I of course said yes, half joking that I thought it was the "I'm dumping you, you worthless client who spends all her time blogging and not making real tv money" call.
Okay, it wasn't a joke.
But she swore she loved my blogs, has hope for me, bla bla bla. This woman also lives next door to Dr. Phil and down the street from Tom Cruise, so it's possible she has stars in her eyes. But I bought it. (Kiss, kiss Susan... I know you're reading.)
Ironic that this phone call came on a day that I was feeling relatively peaceful - a rare occasion for me. A lot of praying, talking and a good dose of whining to the man upstairs is getting me closer and closer to acceptance in a higher power.
And then, just when I heard absolute silence upstairs and sprinted up the steps quicker than a photographer at a Baby Suri shoot, I found Stink reading an Eric Carlisle book to Pip: Stink: "And da little cicket flapped his wings together but what came out? Not a sound." Pip: "Not a SOUND!"
What do all three of the things above have in common? Like a song from my first boyfriend days, George Michael said it best: "You gotta have faith."
What keeps all of your faith? And when you don't have it, what brings it back? (I am ending the next seven posts with questions, so go to town. Will you answer the call? I have faith.)
* When all your stand-bys fail, comfort food always works. In this case, bottles. Who doesn't need to hit one sometimes?