Talking as Fast as I Can

Even so, there’s a checked-out, drugged sort of look we get when on our phones that’s different from the look we get when reading a book, or even just staring into space. I get that look too, and when I catch my own reflection, it gives me a chill. It’s like Gollum’s face just before he drops his Precious in the water.

Our show was about family and relationships, subjects that are about to become against the law on network television unless the family is also full of tattooed serial killer zombie firefighters who live in Chicago.

I had lunch with Don, and he explained his way of working to me, a method that’s been so effective he actually wrote it up to give to the many writers he mentors. It’s his variation on the Pomodoro technique, called Kitchen Timer, and it’s transformed the way I write—I now spend fewer hours being way more productive. It gave me structure where there was none. It has changed my life as a writer, and I hope it changes yours too. I love it so much that it makes me want to touch my fingertips together in that wonderful symbol we just invented in the last decade. (But seriously, what took us so long?)

At the Labor Day party, we all bonded over our shared tales of “that really awful job I had.” Not all the stories were about terrible things that happened at work, but the best ones were. Maybe that’s why you seldom see actors on talk shows regaling the hosts with stories of “that time I was well compensated at an early job I very much enjoyed.” There’s more comedy in failure than in success, and it’s a much more universal language. At the party, the worst jobs also seemed to be the ones everyone felt most proud to have endured. It’s an accomplishment to do something well, but maybe even a bigger one to do something well when you’d really rather not be doing it at all.

Because here’s the thing: I was fine on my own, and so are you. But it can be hard when you feel ready for Happy Couplehood and you seem to have missed the train. As my friend Oliver Platt used to say to me about hopes and dreams I’d share with him: “It’s coming, just not on your time frame.” I find this a helpful reminder in any number of ways: not only when you’re hoping to meet someone, but also when you’re waiting for a better job or for some relief during a bleak time. When Peter and I held hands that night all those years ago, I had no idea we’d end up shopping at REI together one day. It might have been nice if he could have turned to me and said: “Look, tonight isn’t the time, but we’re going to leave here and learn a bunch of things that are going to make this work approximately five years from now—see you then!” But life doesn’t often spell things out for you or give you what you want exactly when you want it, otherwise it wouldn’t be called life, it would be called vending machine.
It’s hard to say exactly when it will happen, and it’s true that whatever you’re after may not drop down the moment you spend all your quarters, but someday soon a train is coming. In fact, it may already be on the way. You just don’t know it yet.

Michelle is positive and knowledgeable and encouraging and also happens to be a super babe.

As a person, you are worthless without a high-fashion workout ensemble.

I’ve been told that non-Hollywood people run or walk outside or on a treadmill, attend classes, and do yoga. Well, we here in Hollywood also do those things.

In the case of the medical show my sister told me about, the words, aptly, were “medical, medical.” As in “Yes, Dr. Jones, I’d love to meet you in the supply closet, but first I have to administer forty ccs of medical medical to my patient’s medical medical or he may go into medical medical, and then we’ll really be in trouble.”
“Medical, medical” immediately became a sort of “yada, yada, yada” for my sister Shade and me.

So don’t let your plan have the last laugh, but laugh last when your plan laughs, and when your plan has the last laugh, laugh back, laughing!