THE GHOSTS OF GILMORE GIRLS PAST

I feel like a poser...a lot. I feel like more of a poser than Radio Shack Teri Hatcher, and I'm only 30. Here’s my deal: Although, I did just score my first paid freelance animation gig a few months ago, sans agent, I still haven't had a job in TV in five years. So every Hollywood/TV story I have is either five years old, or second hand from friends who are still in the assistant world. I seriously want to slap myself when I say, "On Days of Our Lives blah, blah, blah, happened," or "Josh Schwartz is a hack, I worked on his first pilot (6 years ago when he was 23 freakin' years old) and it was such a piece of garbage, the network didn't even give us notes." But for some reason, I can't stop myself. I think it's because my brain believes that if I stop telling the stories, it was like those years working and being happy on the NBC and Warner Bros. lots never happened at all. I know better than that...yet I persist.

And then, there's Gilmore Girls. Sigh. The fact that the show is still on is the only reason I can get away with telling the same stories from the Writers' trailer in season one. That's right, I only worked there the first season, and a few days in second season as a favor to the script coordinator/now producer. Did I mention this was five years ago? Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Poser Fox.

I didn't set out to be that girl...the one who tells and re-tells stories from years gone by, but I actually had a pretty decent time as GG's first (and best!) writers' p.a. After suffering through endless grocery runs, lunch runs, coffee runs, marathon 100 mile script delivery routes and 18 hour days, I settled in to a pretty decent gig. I went to amazing parties, met incredible people, went to the Paley festival with the show and attended the Golden Globe parties. Even more exciting, I got to hang out with the writing staff while they broke stories, and played games with them at lunch. It was kinda cruel actually, to be that close to the promised land of "The Room" and not be able to truly participate. The writers gave me the infamous and ubiquitous Story by Robert McKee for my 25th birthday, and I felt as if I had been inducted into a secret society: The, "We think you can make it in this business, kid," society. Stuff like that made all the crappy days seem…not so crappy.

Then at the end of the first season, I decided to leave. They wouldn't promote me because the current writers' assistant wasn't leaving. There was nowhere for me to go if I wanted to move up the chain. I foolishly thought that pre-WGA strike (that never happened), I'd jump onto another show as a writers’ assistant. No such luck, and then with 9/11, I was really screwed. Two words: Reality TV. Suddenly, there were no jobs at WB or anywhere, and I ended up having to go back into the "real world." Needless to say, the real world sucks.

As I've drifted through the last five years, I keep getting assaulted with ghosts of GG past. I run into actors at the Coffee Bean, the writers at Panera and Starbucks, and my fancy/scary/enigmatic boss Gavin Polone at Leonor's Vegetarian Mexican restaurant. Finally, the last link in the chain. A few days ago, my friend and fellow writer, Romi and I were walking out of the Arclight theater when who do I see? Amy Sherman Palladino (creator of GG, my old boss) and her husband Dan Palladino (EP of the first round of Family Guy episodes...I still bow down to him for allowing me to attend the last table read of the show before it was cancelled) standing right there before me. I haven't seen this woman in five years, and at the most tumultuous time in my life and career, there she was right in my face.

Let me preface this: I have a problem. When I see someone from my past, instead of letting it go or politely saying hello, I stare. Like a stalker. Or in this case, I blurt out "HEY AMY AND DAN!" when I have NO idea if I even register in their brains as the red-head who brought them Apple Pan, Extra Sugar Free Gum, and Starbucks at all hours of the day. Before I can control myself, I've spewed my perky little expectations all over them. Will they remember me? Will they ask me how I've been the last four years? Did they instantly regret not hiring me as their writers' assistant and letting me walk out the door forever?

Then in a nano-second, I shift to panic mode. My inner monologue starts spinning: "Crap, damn, crap. It's Amy and Dan who you haven't seen in years, and last time you saw them you were a friggin’ gopher, and now you're a bona fide, paid writer. Make an impression damnit! Be funny...no, witty...be so friggin’ witty you make her cry, okay not cry, but just don't say something stupid. "

I didn't make her cry. Basically, it was...okay. I didn't die, I didn't make a fool of myself. I'm sure she didn't remember my name, but she recognized me. They had just come out of "Lady in the Water," and I proceeded to do some shtick about them walking out of the theater do an "It Sucked Shuffle." Yeah, I know. Lame. But, they agreed and said they were going home to call everyone to tell them of said suckage. As I asked them what they're up to, I remember THEY AREN'T ON GG ANYMORE. They left after contract negotiations fell through. Now I'm panicking that I don't say something stupid and insulting. So, I change the subject to me. I managed to slip in the fact that I was writing freelance animation and they seemed genuinely pleased. So, near the end of our three minute exchange, I can see her ADD kicking in - I'm losing her, so I gracefully say "Nice seeing you, take care," and that was the end of it.

You might be asking, 'Why the hell do you even care?' Good question. It does sound a bit obsessive, even pathetic. But really, it was more about the age-old feeling of wanting to make your parents proud. And Amy, unbeknownst to her, was the first writer I really looked up to and wanted to impress...just like a parent. She may have a huge reputation for being crazy and a pain in the ass, but she was also really generous and never took advantage of me. Maybe I'm completely sentimental and delusional to care, but to say I didn't would be the biggest, fattest lie. I needed to see Amy and Dan. I needed them to know I’m a writer now. It was the perfect ending to my time with the ghosts of GG past. I've graduated to the big, gnarly world of Hollywood future, and all on my own. I'm looking forward to seeing how it all pans out.