1-Feb-2006

Last night I left work early for my dinner with Oscar Nom, and I'm happy to say he picked an Italian place in Santa Monica where the lights were low and the wine plentiful.  Now I know I'm not the most attractive sheep in the herd if you stick me under fluorescents, but light me from below with a puny candle and I could easily be mistaken for a long-lost, not quite as pretty and therefore bitter Deschanel sister.  And Oscar Nom is always quick with the compliments, for which I have to say I adore him.  We weren't two alcoholic beverages into the night before he asked:

Oscar Nom:  Whatever happened with that script you wrote, about the girl who had an abusive husband, then he dumped her for her sister?

Me:  (please keep in mind this was my first script ever) The one with the dying grandmother and the horses where they're about to lose their farm, and then there's a rape in the beginning that leads to an unwanted pregnancy, and where the hot sister is a fledgling Hollywood starlet, but no one wants to cast her anymore, and she has to go back home because her younger sister is attempting suicide because she can't get over the fact that her sister stole her abusive husband?

Oscar Nom:  Yeah, that one.

Me:  Everyone who read it said it made them want to slit their wrists.

Oscar Nom:  Huh.  I loved it. 

Me:  Yeah, but don't you think there was a little much going on in the melodrama department?  And maybe it was a little--

Oscar Nom:  --Twisted? 

Me:  Exactly.

Oscar Nom:  That's what I loved about it.  Knowing you, and then getting to see how warped your mind actually is.

This from the guy who wrote one of the world's most twisted movies...  Yet he is so durn sweet.  He called me this morning, just to tell me he had a great time.  What a gentleman.  Even if he is married.  Sigh...