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"Since I was a kid I wanted to write for a living. Rhymes and clever endings made sense to me. Like words on a page, life was unpredictable. But subconsciously I knew if I could sum up the pages of my existence with a sturdy binding and the absolutes of periods and exclamations, somehow I&amp;#039;d escape the unwielding uncertainty of an undisciplined life. At the very least, I&amp;#039;d bypass boring. Post college I swapped my dream of solitary dabbling in front of a library fire for sitting at a long table with a group of people, pitching scripts. It didn&amp;#039;t matter that I didn&amp;#039;t watch TV. What mattered was the craft of it: The late hours, the churning creativity, the constantly changing sets and the interesting people. Television writing was a perfect gig for me! Sadly, for my ambitious 22 year old self, there was no &amp;quot;Script Writer Application&amp;quot; to fill out. There was, however, an opening for an NBC Page. You know, that sexy woman who seats the audience for situation comedies? Translation: Wears tacky polyester zoot suit, rainbow peacock name tag and gets teased by Will Smith during every taping of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air due to six foot frame and horrific short hair cut, &amp;quot;Yo, the school marm is in the house!&amp;quot; That was me. The pay was crap. I had to supplement my income by sitting in booth at Universal City Walk handing out audience taping tickets. Shaped like a giant television box, I squeamishly recall the public randomly asking about the bathrooms or the time but rarely caring that I had free tickets to the Vicki Lawerence Show. The earthquake had just happened. I can&amp;#039;t tell you how many times I&amp;#039;d brace for cover inside that damn boob tube, hoping that the ginormous Universal Studios sign wouldn&amp;#039;t behead me before I had a chance to make my big break into a real TV job. I eventually did land a secretarial job on Saved By the Bell, The New Class (thank you, Franco Bario) and later my leading man, Rex. As I think back on those days, however, it was more than my passion for Rex that fueled our sex life. It was my passion for work. It kept me on my toes, inspired, and always ready to bolt out of bed in the morning. This raw energy also inspired me to pounce right back in bed at the end of the evening. Now that I&amp;#039;m a parent, I find myself sitting in front of that fire with a lap top (instead of a writers&amp;#039; room). Yet I am once again reminded how lucky I am to live my dream. And to sleep with him. I hope the same for you. And if you don&amp;#039;t have it, keep plugging away at it. I just hope you don&amp;#039;t have to work inside a giant television set to find it. Nothing&amp;#039;s worse than screaming at a bratty teenager, &amp;quot;Hey, kid, stop playing with my knobs!&amp;quot; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a2921/wow-thats-a-large-peacock/>