Frankie Says… Tina Fey is my idol. When I first started writing, I thought of myself as a very young Carrie Bradshaw – all gumption and glory, no consequences or catastrophes. But through the last two-and-a-half years there have been a few consequences and some minor, but significant catastrophes in my freelance writing world. I am a more cautious and thoughtful writer now. Moreover, I use a pseudonym so that I can, when necessary, write like a complete jerk who doesn’t have to deal with consequences or catastrophes. Nowadays, I see myself more as a Liz Lemon (nee Tina Fey) than a Carrie Bradshaw. Two years in and I don’t own any Jimmy Choos, I don’t have an awesome East Village apartment, and I definitely don’t have a stream of good-looking men I get to sleep with and then throw away. Instead, I have a modest apartment in Los Angeles, a tiny closet full of Nine West shoes, and I wear sweatpants and t-shirts about two-thirds of the week. Like Liz/Tina, I have nasty habits that include eating breakfast standing up in my miniscule kitchen wearing only underwear, cutting my toenails in bed where I find bits of nail sticking into my side about a week later, and wearing inappropriate outfits to either get me in to something or out of something (think Liz in full Princess Lea gear to get out of jury duty). The guys I end up dating for very short periods of time are a) crazy (Matt Damon aka “Carol Burnett”), b) losers (Dean Winters aka “Dennis Duffy”), or c) possess weird quirks that even quirky me can’t get over (Jon Hamm aka “Drew Baird”). But don’t be fooled by me ripping Liz/Tina apart and putting myself on that same...