Dreams. They DO come true.

I was just a wee thing. 10 years old, in fact when Pulp Fiction came out. Most parents would never even dream of letting their child watch such a provocative film at such a young age, but I was a sneaky little devil... I'm not sure how I actually got my hands on the movie itself, but what I do remember is falling IN LOVE with the soundtrack.

I remember my 6th grade school trip to the San Juan river. 20 screaming pre teens and 2 adult chaperones stuck in a van for Gd knows how many hours.

Katie Ergen and I sat in the back, delicately holding my diskman without shock absorption, each taking a separate earphone from the one set we had, and as the magic quality of music would have it, time flew. I looked out the window and secretly imagined making my own movie and wondered about the music it would have. We played that soundtrack on repeat until the CD broke. And if it didn't actually break, it should have. That's how many times we played it.

Who made that CD? How did they pick so many great songs? Where do soundtracks come from? I wondered...

I remember thinking at the time, what a treat it was to have such an incredible grouping of songs in one place. An entire experience. A journey, if you will. This was before napster, mp3s, CD burning and ipods. If I liked a song, I saved up all of my money to go to Sam Goody and buy the entire album, most of which I usually ended up hating... 15 dollars later. So, it was a real treat to have a CD where every song was one that I loved. Man, that makes me feel old. And writing that last sentence makes me feel even older. Whatever, that's not the point.

Flash forward 12 years. I moved to L.A. and found myself working for Mary Ramos, the very woman who made the soundtrack for Pulp Fiction! Now if that isn't serendipity, stars aligning and luck, I don't know what is. Mary was and is the coolest of the cool, if I do say so myself. And when I stopped working at her office, I felt thankful that I got to know her as a person and friend. Not to mention what I learned about music and film!

I never imagined that getting to know Mary would answer my prayers in more ways than one! When I told her I had written a short film and she offered her expertise with the music, I would have to say I received nothing short of a gift from the heavens above.

Is it really possible that something I dreamed about and didn't even fathom as a possibility could actually be coming true in real life? Could the person who made my all time favorite soundtrack in the world be doing the soundtrack for my film!?!

Please do not mistake me and think that I am in any way putting my short and Pulp Fiction in anywhere near the same category.... But, I just have to say, life is freaking COOL sometimes!

This evening around 7:30, Mary and I finished selecting the music for the short! I am so excited and feel so invigorated and inspired. After watching it with our music choices, it felt like new life had been given to it. As I drove home, I couldn't help but thank my lucky stars for allowing me such an opportunity today. And, it made me remember to remind myself that dreams really do come true.

Ask and you shall receive.

AMF Mar Vista. That's where I work. A bowling alley full of rockabilly musicians, horny teenagers, alcoholics, thugs, hipsters, artists, surfers and smelly homeless guys. Rainbow diamonds on black, the carpet. Cracked gold paint covers the mirror that reflects the sunken in, red leather trimmed, wood and stone, 70s bar. Neon beer signs shower the patrons with a nostalgic, but dirty glow. And on Sunday nights, folks come from as far East as Culver City and as far West as Venice (not that far) to enjoy 'DOLLAR MANIA'. 5 dollar shoes and a dollar per game. What could be better? Bet you can't think of as many things as I can.

Sometimes I fall in love with Sundays. Watching the people. Creating their stories. Remembering their names and their drinks. Seeing their relationships change. A river of artistic inspiration.

Hoping the Mar Vista lanes would feed me a title on this lovely Sunday, I was nothing short of disappointed when a massive pack of UCLA medical students rented out the entire facility. A breed of human I know all too well... Over privileged, over educated, under experienced, rich kids who DON'T KNOW HOW TO TIP. Now, I know this may sound a little harsh, but I was almost one of them, once upon a time, so I can judge.

On this summer night, I just happened to be practicing maintaining a positive mindset, and boy was I put to the test. Why does that always happen? I believe in the power of positive thinking, I tell everyone about it, I swear by it, and then I get hit with a bad day and all I want to do is throw my hands up and say, 'You stupid jerks!! How are you going to provide good service to the sick people of America if you wouldn't know good service if it hit you in the head with a 20 pound brick?!?!'

Don't worry. I didn't scream that out. Nor did I react to my feelings of negativity. But when I walked out of the bowling alley doors without a dime in my pocket, I had a choice. Either I could go home and wallow in my thoughts of financial ruin or I could go say goodbye to a good friend of mine who was leaving the next morning for a month long business trip. I decided upon the latter.

Sometimes a moment with some friends can be all I need to get me out of my self involved funk. So, taking some contrary action, I pulled up to her beach front apartment, let the heavy sea air fill my nose and stick to my skin. 'I may be a waitress who didn't make a cent tonight, but I have great friends, the ocean, and a title to find. Life goes on', I told myself.

Well.' Ask and you shall receive', I told myself on the drive home later that night. A title I wanted and a title I found! Turns out the power of positive thinking works.

Upon settling into a discussion with my girlfriends about possible dating slogans that people our age use, an observer sat on the side listening. 'What's your short about?' He asked.

Fighting my inner urge to shy away from the question, as I hate describing anything that means something me, clearly out of fear of judgement, (Ah fear. It's my friend, I tell you. When I face it.) I told him. I didn't even think he was listening. And then! The title was born! 'WRONG GUY RIGHT'. Thank you, Mr. observer. Brilliant!

So, the message for today. Stay positive and keep searching until it clicks. You never know where the gems pop up and shine. I can say one thing for sure though, it is most certainly when you least expect it.