The Gods in Our Computers

Pantheists believed there were gods all around us in every tree.

They were probably wrong, but clearly there are gods living in every computer. Success does not depend on reading voluminous manuals so much as knowing how to propitiate the particular god living in your machine. A successful writer discovers what sacrifice to make to keep the gods from scrambling your manuscript, catching a virus, or plunging your brilliant thoughts into the blue screen of death.

MORE TIPS FROM THE SOUTHERN BELLE'S HANDBOOK

Men fantasize about being a knight and rescuing a maiden in distress. Encourage this. It’s a good thing. There’s no reason for you ever to struggle pushing a heavy bag into an overhead compartment. Ask him do something easy for you and thank him sweetly. He’ll feel great about himself– and you. Rule #48

Attracting Men is Easy

A few years ago, I wrote The Southern Belle’s Handbook, Sissy LeBlanc’s Rules to Live By. I thought it would be fun to share a few rules with you.

How to Make Conversation:

Men always find themselves the most fascinating subject of any conversation. When in doubt, let him talk about himself. He’ll think you’re a brilliant conversationalist. Rule Number 11

Laugh at his wit, and he’ll admire your sense of humor. Rule Number 13

Let him know you think he’s intelligent and he’ll be awed by your perspicacity, even if he can’t pronounce the word. Rule Number 15

Thought on Aging from the Southern Belle

A woman who always insists on telling her true age
shows a sad lack of imagination.

MOVING BLUES

We're leaving the Marina on Thursday and moving back to our renovated home in Beverly Hills. Now for most of the world, this is no cause for sorrow. My husband is anxious to get home. But I will miss our little apartment, the walks along the channel and onto the beach, the bicycle rides to the free concerts on the pier in Santa Monica, easy dinners at beach restaurants such as the Lido on Washington, and most especially the friends we've made. We're not moving to the moon. But it's a forty-five minute drive and no longer conducive to an invitation, "come on over for wine and cheese on our balcony. The moon is rippling on the water."

The writer's life

Here's a picture of the pool next to our apartment and me looking serious in "control central."

The Life of the Writer--It's a beach

We're remodeling our house, so we decided to rent a little apartment at the beach. My husband, Carleton Eastlake, and I are writing together in a tiny second bedroom we call command central. Every morning we get up and see people rowing down the channel and boats sailing by. We walk along the channel to the Pacific Ocean, we rent kayaks and bikes. I'm not entirely sure I ever want to return to my real life.

Life in Marina del Rey

SEX AND THE CITY and Its Labels

Don’t get me wrong, The Southern Belle had a great time at SEX AND THE CITY. It was more than a movie, it was an event. It was a reason for a Girls Night Out and we almost didn’t get a seat, because even on a Thursday night the theater was jammed with women like us.
I felt a surge of Woman Power seeing those four powerful, dynamic women on the screen as I sat with two powerful, dynamic women friends. Of course as a recovering screenwriter I am delighted that the movie is doing so well at the box office. I loved seeing those four beautiful over-twenty actresses costumed by the world’s top designers. However, Carrie’s first VOICE OVER: “Women come to New York from all over for the two Ls, love and labels” set my teeth on edge.
Love of course. Freud said, “Love and work are the cornerstones of our humanness.” And beside the show is called: SEX AND THE CITY. But labels? Labels? OK, I told myself, fashion was an important element in the series. So I sat back and enjoyed the show. And it was lots of fun. But over the weeks since, that phrase keeps coming back to me and my teeth are edgier than ever.
Fifty years after the feminist movement we are what? Supposed to be dupes to designers? Covet accessories not because of their intrinsic beauty but because they carry a certain label? Walk around carrying billboards on our arms? Or was it all an excuse for product placement?
Of course we want to be attractive and we like beautiful things. Open any issue of VOGUE or ELLE and you’ll see outfits that are lovely, but you’ll see others that are awful, no human being would be caught wearing them, but they do have the right labels. Go to your little boutique around the corner and you might find schlock or you might just find an original gem. But maybe that was the real story arc after all. In the end the dress Carrie found happiness in was a no-name outfit she found in a vintage shop.

C100 in LOS ANGELES

Last summer Northwestern's Council of 100, (which I describe as the one hundred most successful women ever to graduate from Northwestern University -- who are willing to go to those meetings) gave a party for undergraduates and young alumnae at Cafe Roma in the heart of Beverly Hills' golden triangle. Here are some pictures of the event. I invite everyone who was there to write a comment and/or a picture caption.

More on the Dreaded British National Health

My cousin Cecile wrote: "Had an exciting experience with the British National Health Service. On our last night in London, I went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of the night with hives on every inch of my body including palms and soles. When my tongue began to swell and I could no longer speak clearly, I tried without success to remember the emergency phone number in England. (They were staying in a borrowed flat.) I finally hit on it 15 minutes later and, with some difficulty, the ambulance got close enough to our building for us to find it by its flashing lights. Right in the ambulance they gave me intravenous antihistamine, oxygen, a nebulizer and epinephrine.

15 minutes later the symptoms were clearly being reduced and I could speak normally again. Did you know that all emergency treatment is free? It's also caring and thoughtfully given. Yes, we made the plane, but my poor husband aged a few years watching me go through it all.

Braving the Dreaded National Health Service UK

Braving the Dreaded British National Health

A couple of weeks ago in Edinburgh, I fell and scraped my knee. I week later the little abrasion had become large, red, puffy, and sore. I wanted someone to look at it, but I was still in the UK. Not only was I in the UK, I was in small-town England. Bury St. Edmunds is a charming, historic market village in East Anglia, but not exactly a medical hub. Still, my knee needed looking after.

The hotel manager told me there was a doctor’s office next door, so with trepidation, (I’d heard the horror stories about long waits and grim conditions) I ventured in. A receptionist told me I’d be seen by a nurse practitioner who specialized in abrasions, asthma treatment, and other chronic conditions. Apologizing, she said she’d have to charge me fifty pounds since I wasn’t registered on National Health.

After waiting in a pleasant waiting room for all of seven to ten minutes, I was greeted by a friendly, efficient nurse who bandaged my knee with a waterproof surgical dressing and asked if I was otherwise in good health. My husband mentioned I have asthma. She gave me advice on how to manage it and a booklet (not an advertisement from a drug company) but a manual published by the National Health Service NHS with clear information on how to manage asthma along with a card to carry in your wallet, outlining a treatment plan, and phone numbers including the Asthma UK Adviceline available from 9 to 5 with interpreting service in more than 100 languages and a 24 hour nurse-led helpline for all medical inquiries along with websites and further information.

We were out of there and on our way in half an hour and I’m happy to report my knee is fine.

The Council of 100 in Los Angeles

C100 in LA--The Southern Belle Loves a Good Party

One thing all Southern Belles have in common is we love parties and we were trained from birth to give them. So this year, when it was time for Northwestern University’s Council of 100 to give a party in Los Angeles, it fell on me to organize it.

What’s the Council of 100 you might ask? I explain it as the one hundred most successful women ever to graduate from Northwestern—who are willing to go to those meetings. Our mandate is to mentor and serve as role models for women students and young alumnae. This year we met at Caffe Roma in the heart of Beverly Hill’s golden triangle. Here are a couple of photos of the event. I’ll hold these on the blog until I get some comments from participants and then I’ll post more. So come on ladies and gentlemen (there were two gentlemen in attendance) start commenting, especially those in the pictures, and I'll put up more photos.

The Cost Effect of Global Warming

The Cost Effect Of Global Warming Or Stupid Is As Stupid Does

When you hear the Bush Administration or other politicians talking about complying with the Kyoto Protocols as long as they are “cost effective,” they are talking about the cost to their campaign contributors not to you and me.

This week the Commerce Committee gutted Senator Feinstein’s sensible bill requiring car companies to improve over-all fuel efficiency of their fleets by 10 miles per gallon over the next twelve years. There’s nothing radical about that plan. It may even be too little, too late. But Tuesday the Commerce Committee added a little zinger to the bill: It would let the car makers off the hook if the annual goals aren’t “cost-effective.”

Cost effective to whom? If we really took global warming seriously, we would see an economic boom similar to that in Silicone Valley. Thousands of jobs would be created along with hundreds of multi-millionaires. More important, thousands of lives would not be ruined, costing us the taxpayers billions of dollars. Hurricane Katrina and the tornados that swept the Midwest may not be a direct product of global warming. But we do know global warming will create more hurricanes and more tornados ruining countless lives, costing billions of dollars.

If people get the government they deserve, then as my character Sissy LeBlanc might say, “Stupid is as stupid does.”

PREMONITION & the Premier

The Hollywood Premier of Premonition

Last night I went to the Hollywood premier of Premonition, the new thriller starring Sandra Bullock.  You've probably seen the ads.  Time is out of joint.  Bullock is told her husband is dead, but the next morning she wakes up and he’s alive.  She tries to deal with her feelings of abandonment, betrayal, and grief, while she fights to make sense out of what's happening to her.  Emotionally, the movie is thoroughly satisfying and beautifully directed.  Logically, some strings are left untied.  Like the best modern art you’ll be left with things unsaid, things to puzzle over, a chance to bring your own perceptions into the experience.  Most films are so logical, so wrapped up, you have nothing to discuss afterwards with friends over dinner.  The brilliance of Premonition is you'll have lots to discuss.  The film and questions about the film will haunt you for days.

We were invited to the premier by the director, Mennan Yapo.  His is a real rags- to-riches story.  A successful movie executive in Europe, Mennan put everything he had into writing and directing his and first feature, the German film, Soundless.  It was accepted at the Los Angeles Film Festival, but by that time Mennan had no money to stay here for meetings with production companies, so he stayed with us.  It was an exciting time, that magical moment when a star is born.  Every day messengers dropped off dozens of scripts, most of them he turned down.  A true artist and totally focused, he went back to Germany without finding a project he could put his heart into.  Then the script for Premonition arrived and the rest is history.

What's a real Hollywood premiere like?  The sidewalk on fabled Sunset Boulevard is cordoned off.  Fans press against the ropes.  The paparazzi are there en masse.  The director and his entourage step out of a limo.  Cameras flash.  Guards are stationed everywhere to make sure that only the favored few get into the theater.  So what goes on inside the lobby of the theater?  Not much.  Friends greet one another.  A few, very few, scantily-clad, aspiring actresses parade around hoping to be seen, but for the most part it looks like the crowd at your Saturday night Cineplex.  The after party was down the block in a beautiful old Hollywood building with period chandeliers and winding staircases.  Four bars served free drinks on three floors.  Loud music was piped through all the rooms.  But like big parties from Shreveport to Sacramento it can be intimidating or fun.  It's all about who you know.