I'm 100% Positive the Strike Will Go Until June*

Yes, I was wrong about last night's "Project Runway." I was positive that this week's challenge would be a return of the popular make-an-outfit-from-the-stuff-in-your-apartment. I was way, way off.

But I've never been happier to be wrong. For one thing, it reminded me that I can't predict the future, and proved that "Project Runway" can still surprised and delight me. (Oh, brother, can it! Between the Sweet P/Rami show down and the Kit/Ricky debacle? Delicious!) Ricky, btw, doesn't really bother me, but I admit, I have no idea why he's still on the show. I think it has to be a question of story arc. This wasn't his week. There wasn't a moment or a dramatic reversal that would justify taking down the Moistest Designer.

In a similar vein, rumor has it that the DGA has negotiated a deal with the AMPTP, and is now in talks with the WGA to see if they can be brought on board. My first thought is that this will never work, but again, I would be delighted to be wrong.


Which brings me to today's piece of Advice for the Aspiring Whatsit** Who's Thinking of Moving to L.A.:

Let Los Angeles surprise you.

When you start talking about moving to L.A., you'll hear a lot of conventional wisdom on the subject. My beloved Chicago Improv Network routinely bursts into brief storms of Why-Los-Angeles-Sucks-Balls-and-I-Would-Never-Move-There. Traffic, heat, smog, blah blah blah.

The city has some drawbacks. Every city does. But every city has its perks, if you let yourself see them. If you don't, you'll never be able to think of that place as home. (It's the same principle by which we fall in love with vacation spots. That pang of regret as you're leaving, and the brief, crazy thought of moving back there permanently? Both signs that you've noticed a few of that place's unique perks.)

Hands down, my favorite thing about L.A. is the light. It's the light of Richard Diebenkorn's Ocean Park paintings, hot, bright and shadowless for four to six hours every day. It makes whites shout, blues glow, oranges burn. It forces me to wear sunscreen, sunglasses and sometimes even a hat, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I'm also fond of the utterly unmidwestern plant life here, including a weird, spirally bush we call Gilliam Shrubs because they look like something out of Monty Python, and the wonderfully car-friendly terrain. After a month out here, the streets of Chicago look like the narrow alleys of a medieval Italian mountain town.

But in the end, you have to find your own favorite things -- but at the same time, you'll find your own way of thinking of Los Angeles as your home.

* I'm hoping glaringly wrong predictions comes in threes. Or at least twos.
** I came out as a screenwriter, but I can't think why this advice wouldn't help an actor, director or whathaveyou.