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So I was standing next to some yellow police tape at a crime scene the other day (which isn't all that unusual, considering I'm a television news reporter in Los Angeles) and I was talking to some of the female reporters from the other stations. But instead of discussing the story that was developing in front of us...we began talking about what was developing inside of me.

I've never been one to take a lot of drugs (I have too many other vices). But once you open the door to fertility treatments...expect to start waiting in long lines at the pharmacy. And I am not talking about your local neighborhood pharmacy, where you multi-task and buy cheap makeup while investigating the "as seen on TV" aisle. I am talking about doing some hard-time at a "compound".

As a journalist I am very good at meeting deadlines. I have mastered the skill of pushing myself at the very last minute to get the very best results. Of course, this sort of self-mastery has also made me the perfect procrastinator. Why do something now, when I can put it off (and still pull it off)?

Seldom does a day in L.A. go by when someone doesn't recommend something to me. The best Pilates studio. The best spin class. The best juice bar. Word of mouth goes a long way in this town (after all, name-dropping here is an art form).