I was born under the sign of Scorpio on a chilly Friday in November, in Oak Park, Illinois. When my mom arrived at the hospital in hard labor, her doctor gave her a sleeping pill and went off to a cocktail party. A few hours later he returned, half-soused, in time to scribble his name on my birth certificate. Ah, the Mad Men era.
My Pre-K years were spent in courtrooms and nightclubs, alternately tagging along with my dad, a trial lawyer, and my mom, a nightclub singer, on their individual quests for fame and fortune. Having done Vegas by the time I was seven, I did not always fit in with the other kids. But I loved learning, and had the privilege of attending some great institutions. First was the progressive Francis W. Parker School in Chicago. Then, a strange turn of events led me to Madeira, a girl’s boarding school in Virginia (Jean Harris was the headmistress there before matriculating to the federal penitentiary for murder). I didn’t fit in with the Southern Belles at Madeira, either. But, refusing to be a quitter, I stuck it out.
Northwestern University was everything a 1980’s young woman needed: a party school with great reputation. Upon graduation I moved to California for my first real job as an NBC Page on The Tonight Show. That led to a career as a writer/producer for NBC News in Charlotte, NC. I hated the humid, racist south. I hated Charlotte, with its limited art scene and two decent restaurants. I hated the two women who were my bosses. The hero was at her darkest hour.
Eventually I made it back to Southern California and the Peter Stark Program at University of Southern California. I worked as a “D-Girl” and a script reader, sold a movie to MGM that was never made (but was a great experience) and wrote on the staff of Aaron Spelling’s soap, Titans. I am married to a comedy writer. We have two adorable kids and a dog. And I’m not dead yet.