February 7, 1984: I asked Tommy if she would go with me (to her face) at the talent show. Do you know what she said? "Yes!" After the talent show, we kissed. Now that I did it the first time, I will do it a lot.

I'm standing in Nadelberg's living room, reciting personal accounts of my life, wondering how my first kiss could have warranted a mere one sentence in my diary. Nadelberg and coproducer Neil Katcher are listening intently. I willingly read my ridiculous words from 22 years ago that, when written, were never under any circumstances intended to be revealed in any way to anyone who was not me. More wine, please.

Nadelberg and Katcher occasionally crack up at how I would be pining away for Tommy in one sentence, then seemingly out of nowhere, toss in a hilarious non sequitur like, "Tonight Van Halen's 'Jump' takes on Billy Idol's 'Rebel Yell' on Friday Night Video Fights," and, "Tonight I watched the movie Footloose. It was really good." A story possibly fit for the Mortified stage was emerging, but my performance needed work.

Because this is Los Angeles, after all, it would make sense that many people who audition for Mortified have ambitions as stand-up comedians or actors. I mean, everyone in this city harbors those ambitions, whether they admit it or not. I'm of the latter ilk. I'm not here pursuing a career in television or movies or comedy clubs, and I'm doing just fine here as a writer, but anyone who lives in L.A. occasionally fantasizes about being plucked from the lip of their soy latte at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and put onto the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Anyone who tells you differently is lying.