Saturday, February 21

F., Los Angeles

If you think it's crazy that people let me photograph their homes, and you don't ever want me to come over, you're not alone. You're probably a lot like my dear friend F., Mr. Hollywood screenwriter. When I walked up to his place in Beachwood Canyon under the Hollywood sign, I stopped to snap a shot of his courtyard. So pretty!

[A voice, from somewhere]

[Door slam.]

[LIZ, 32, in short black dress and brown boots, rolls her eyes and walks quickly through the rain to his door.]

Why are you taking pictures? I don't want to be on your blog!

[F., 34, handsome, bespectacled, and "tall for a Jew," he likes to say, now makes the big bucks. His one-bedroom reflects his success and is a huge improvement from when he lived near Runyon Canyon. Except that the other place had a rooftop pool, where F. and Liz once met freaky Renaissance Fair people and ate lime Popsicles with them while one of the girls tried to braid Liz's hair.

You could be a braider.
[REN GIRL's sticky fingers take to Liz's head, her wide shadow blocks Liz's sun, and a limesicle, stuck in her mouth, drips on Liz's chaise. The sun sets over West Hollywood.]


[In the living room Liz recognizes a poster F. bought in 2000 for that other place. He loved this print and even had it framed. Suddenly her eyes widen, alert with an idea. She realizes how much F. has in common with the 13-year-old cartoon character Emily the Strange.]

[Liz shouldn't be so surprised. F. has always loved teenagers, and he writes teen comedies at every opportunity.]

[Liz is bummed F. won't let her take pics of his bathtub, which is still famously filled with newspapers from at least the past year. He's very lucky to have such an awesome Lady Friend. Whip-smart, down-to-earth and cool, Lady Friend is the kind of person who asks to come over to clean up a bit, because it makes her feel productive when she's frustrated with other stuff in her life. She is saving the bathroom for a really big breakdown.]

[F. and Liz cover all the bases--friends, family, work. Then they amble up the hill to the market, where Liz orders a tuna sandwich and F. tries to buy pasta sauce but realizes he forgot his wallet. Again.]

Can I borrow $10?

Fade Out.

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