The good news? Nickelodeon is going to use my house.
The bad news? Not for shooting. They are using it to feed the extras in my backyard.
Once again, the house with the perfect red door on the corner was chosen for the actual shooting. I am torn between happiness at getting a little cash for doing nothing, and bitterness. Like a scorn woman, I am feeling defensive for my sweet abode. If it could talk, it would say "What about me? So I'm not in perfect shape. But I'm presentable, charming, and full of life. I'm tired of being overlooked!"
Only in L.A. could I even have this conversation with myself.
I lead a very bizarre existence.
And on that note, I shall sleep like the dead.