I’m not the biggest sharer in the world, especially when it comes to private (i.e. family) matters. I’m just not. I am, however, a big believer in the phrase “write what you know” which I’ve always taken to mean “utilize stories and personalities around you to enhance the reality of what you write.” Its fine to drop in a name or a personality quirk into a story based on whatever genre you choose, but when it comes to actually telling real stories about real people I find myself in a quandary.
My primary frustrations with it are how damn opinionated everyone in my family is. I don’t mind that on the whole, but when you blog about it the results are immediate. I’ve been called by family members griping about how they’re portrayed, and I’ve been griped at regarding my lack of coverage in certain areas. Then when I turn to those areas and exaggerate a detail or so for comic effect, the only effect I get is a comment saying, “You make me sound like an ass!”
After a while, you just lose interest in being hassled. Even later, you stop caring altogether and just enjoy the moments as they happen without feeling the need to report them to the world. Factor in the economic calamity of the past year and throw in a dash of “holy crap an Office Max exploded all over my desk” and you can physically feel the impetus to write about your personal life on the web dwindle little by little every day.
So here are my words of wisdom to kick of 2010: Screw that.
This goes to all of you (family included) who may gripe and complain enough for me to censor myself. This goes out to myself especially to get off my ass, shut the hell up, and chronicle the goings-on in my world so that my son will one day have a record of what happened when he was growing up. I’ve only retained certain memories of my own childhood, not all of them welcome, and it would be neat to be able to look back 20 years hence to compare where I was as a child to where I ended up as an adult. I think my children may enjoy that.
If not, then at least I have material for their wedding toasts.
If you have a problem with what I have to say, tough. Get your own blog and bitch at me from afar. That’s what the Internet was invented for, after all. In the meantime, I’m going to get back into this and stay in this come hell or high water. I’ll confess it helps that the high water of last year appears, for now at least, to be receding a bit. It’s enough to breathe at least and I’ll take it. So get ready for some sharing because 2010 is going to be a better year on the whole for me, my family, and even you.
But not you in the back. You had your chance and we’re done.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Friday, November 20, 2009
One
I want to wish a very happy birthday to my son, Max, who turns one today. It has been an absolutely wild, bumpy ride this past year. But the result is one of the sweetest, happiest, most intuitive toddlers I've ever seen. He's the joy of our lives. Watching him squeal with glee and run to the bedroom and bathroom when he knows it's bedtime is one of many such things he does that makes us laugh every time. We love you, Max, with all of our hearts and wish you a very happy first birthday.
On a side note, I understand I've been away from the blog for two months now. On the dot, actually. I'll post an update early next week explaining my absence and what will, hopefully, be in my future.
On a side note, I understand I've been away from the blog for two months now. On the dot, actually. I'll post an update early next week explaining my absence and what will, hopefully, be in my future.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
I now have a Toddler - by My Fair Lady
It seems as if Max's baby days are already over. At 9.5 months he started walking much to our surprise. However, as any parent knows, the first days of walking are filled with much more crawling than walking. Well, today he turns 10 months old, and now he walks more than he crawls :( While I am so happy that he is happy, healthy, growing and advanced for his age, a little part of me is so sad that my baby is already growing up. It is a constant push - pull - wanting your child to succeed and grow - and wanting your baby to be your baby forever.
In other news, along with the walking comes many more bumps and bruises. At Gymboree this week, Max took quite a tumble before I could catch him. He was walking across the carpet trying to get to a inflatable ring and caught his foot on the edge of the playmat and fell on the play equipment. However, after some love and affection from Mom, along with an icepack for his poor little cheek, he was up and running in no time, ready for more action. I think Max recovered much more quickly than poor Mom. I know he will have some falls which will include bumps and bruises while he explores his new world, but as his Mommy, I hate to see him hurt.
But, along with his toddling comes great fun as soon he will be able to run everywhere giggling and squealing as he goes with me running after him :)
In other news, along with the walking comes many more bumps and bruises. At Gymboree this week, Max took quite a tumble before I could catch him. He was walking across the carpet trying to get to a inflatable ring and caught his foot on the edge of the playmat and fell on the play equipment. However, after some love and affection from Mom, along with an icepack for his poor little cheek, he was up and running in no time, ready for more action. I think Max recovered much more quickly than poor Mom. I know he will have some falls which will include bumps and bruises while he explores his new world, but as his Mommy, I hate to see him hurt.
But, along with his toddling comes great fun as soon he will be able to run everywhere giggling and squealing as he goes with me running after him :)
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
IT'S ALIVE!!!!
So My Fair Lady and I are sitting on the floor playing with Lil Max when he stands up. Not entirely out of the ordinary as he'd been doing that off and on for the past few days. But then he walked and our mouths dropped in shock.
He and I were playing a game where I held out a glass of water and he would try and get it. So I raised it up and he balanced off my knee to try and get it. Then he let go and stumbled forward a few steps. We were stunned. Then he stood up again, went for the glass again, only this time made a hard left and walked to the fire place.
We were stunned. So much so we just had to have him walk between us again and again. Then later that night we got video of it, sort of, and it's hilarious. I'll see about posting it some day. In the meantime, we have to batten down the hatches because by this time next week he'll be running.
A week after that he'll be driving and then all bets are off.
He and I were playing a game where I held out a glass of water and he would try and get it. So I raised it up and he balanced off my knee to try and get it. Then he let go and stumbled forward a few steps. We were stunned. Then he stood up again, went for the glass again, only this time made a hard left and walked to the fire place.
We were stunned. So much so we just had to have him walk between us again and again. Then later that night we got video of it, sort of, and it's hilarious. I'll see about posting it some day. In the meantime, we have to batten down the hatches because by this time next week he'll be running.
A week after that he'll be driving and then all bets are off.
"Yes."
The other day while I was looking for a job, an ad popped up in my Gmail for a literary agency out of NYC. I clicked it with the intention of keeping it for the future when I have stacks of completed manuscripts and need an agent to sell them. As I happen to have a script ready to go, I scrolled through their site to see if they had a screenplay agency. They did. I clicked it and filled out their form, dropped in my logline, and fired it off. The form said they'd get back to me within 48-72 hours.
Lo and behold, I received an email from them today. They wanted to see my script.
That loud thunderclap everyone heard this morning was my brain exploding with glee. I wrote back to them answering their questions (basically a get-to-know-you email telling them a little about myself and so forth), and attached the PDF. BAM! Screenplay is off to an agency, and a solid one at that. It's small, relatively new, and they are looking for COMMERCIALLY VIABLE material (it was in all caps in the email). This tells me a few things:
1) They're hungry and want a solid script that delivers on everything producers want at any given moment.
2) Since they're based out of NYC, they have a work ethic lacking from the California lifestyle. Agents in NYC will kick down the door and threaten people for their clients. Agents in LA schedule a three hour power lunch and talk to you about five minutes while talking on their iPhone to their other clients the rest of the time.
3) They don't take 4-6 weeks to reply with a one sentence message saying they're interested or not. 48-72 hours for the initial response, and 7-10 days after receiving material they let you know whether they like it enough to move forward.
So I'm in a good spot emotionally right now. Because an agency, even a small one, said "Yes."
Lo and behold, I received an email from them today. They wanted to see my script.
That loud thunderclap everyone heard this morning was my brain exploding with glee. I wrote back to them answering their questions (basically a get-to-know-you email telling them a little about myself and so forth), and attached the PDF. BAM! Screenplay is off to an agency, and a solid one at that. It's small, relatively new, and they are looking for COMMERCIALLY VIABLE material (it was in all caps in the email). This tells me a few things:
1) They're hungry and want a solid script that delivers on everything producers want at any given moment.
2) Since they're based out of NYC, they have a work ethic lacking from the California lifestyle. Agents in NYC will kick down the door and threaten people for their clients. Agents in LA schedule a three hour power lunch and talk to you about five minutes while talking on their iPhone to their other clients the rest of the time.
3) They don't take 4-6 weeks to reply with a one sentence message saying they're interested or not. 48-72 hours for the initial response, and 7-10 days after receiving material they let you know whether they like it enough to move forward.
So I'm in a good spot emotionally right now. Because an agency, even a small one, said "Yes."
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
And now that's broken
In other news, unrelated to the post below, the second set of blinds in the office is now broken. Tried to lower it to keep the sun out of the office while I'm working in here, but it only got about halfway down before stopping altogether. And now I can't raise them either. Fabulous.
But this in no way, shape, or form is related to me taking out my anger at Ninja Gaiden II on a pair of helpless blinds.
But this in no way, shape, or form is related to me taking out my anger at Ninja Gaiden II on a pair of helpless blinds.
Now Playing: Ninja Gaiden II
Seriously? Screw this game. I mean screw it with a drill and stomp on it for good measure. My Fair Lady commented that she was under the impression gaming should be relaxing, and shouldn't cause my veins to buldge and my fury to explode into Hulk-like rage.I'm strangely conflicted though with "Ninja Gaiden II" because while there is literally no end to the staggering amount of frustration, the other end of the spectrum is present as well. The ways in which you can just kill the ever loving crap out of evil ninjas is astonishing. Your character, Ryu, starts out as a badass and continues from that lofty perch up to the level of furious monster that will kill you so hard. But in between these moments of blood drenched bliss are so many sequences of frustration that will literally cause you to blow all of your fuses at once.
Take these examples of both ends of the spectrum:
1) When fighting ninjas, the ways in which you dispense the pain are countless. When decapitating a foe is just the beginning of you killing them, then you know you're in for a good time. It just melts your brain when you pull off a combo that results in 15 dead ninjas and 60+ body parts. I'd start swinging swords, flails, or this big ass scythe and all around me body parts and gore are flying. And when you think you've killed someone enough, Ryu stabs them in just the right way and really tears their body apart. It's tough to beat that.
2) Then you have boss fights either in the middle of a level or at the end of it that make you want to literally kill the development team, resurrect them, and kill them again until you get bored. Or you can hit the level I did last night (Ch. 13) which funnels you down a long series of tunnels packed to the gills with monsters, all of whom can hit you constantly, and there are no save stations in sight. Also, it doesn't help that the camera is glued to Ryu's heavily muscled ass. I don't mind fighting a room full of bad guys, but when half of them are off camera and able to hit me without me being able to at least judge the distance between us, I get frustrated.
On any given playthough, I scream in fury at the game. Not helping matters is the fact that 95% of the enemies are cheating bastards. Oh no, I shall not be replaying this game, Team Ninja, not now or ever. But at this point I'm one chapter away from the end and I'm going to soldier on and complete it just to say I did it. Screw this game. I'm going to beat it into the ground and then I may stomp on it for good measure.
Monday, August 31, 2009
A long walk, a short pier, and much more
It never fails - I sit down to finally blog after so long and my mom calls. And then My Fair Lady wants me to proof her email correspondence. Hahahahahaha.
Let me start off by saying in the grand scheme of things challenging Yours Truly, My Fair Lady, and Lil Max, keeping up with "Now Playing At" hasn't been real high on my priority list. In fact, looking down at the floor I'd it's closer to if not under the stack of "must do now" items that have piled up. At the top of that pile?
Find a job. Like, right now. Right this second would be helpful too.
Basically, we've in a major bind since the first of the year when I was laid off. Two days later, My Fair Lady was hired in a contract capacity as a real estate attorney and has done a bang up job for her employer... who has kept her on contract. I signed on in February with a non-profit start-up as a writer/project manager and they're funding dried up in July. In the meantime, we've had to deal with an infant, an inability to afford daycare, and massive amounts of juggling as one will take him while the other works and so forth.
So here we are at the end of August when things have, in theory, started moving again. I've applied to practically every writing job I can find (four today if you can believe it) and I've even had a few interviews. Actually landed a quickie contract job for a company out of Florida last week where I rewrote all the text on their website. The worry here is we're majorly up against the wall, massively stressed out, and feeling more than a little terrified over what's going. I've applied to so many jobs I've had to start a Word document to track them all so I don't get confused.
In other words, the blog has been on hold for a while now due to market forces strangling the holy hell out of me.
I'd love to get back into doing this on a regular basis, I really would, so I again must hope for the best. In happier news, I've completed my screenplay and sent it off to a horror script contest in LA, and have a few friends hunting for agents that will take my call. I've also continued outlining and actually started a book, as well as outlined three new scripts that someday I hope to actually write. I strongly believe that in the next few weeks, good things will happen but it's the waiting game that is absolutely killing me.
But enough about that. How's Lil Max? In a word, exhausting.
Earlier in the year, he would lay on the floor like the blob a three month old is and just whine and whine some more. We'd feed him, try to play with him, but he'd just whine. Strangely enough, once he figured out how to do the Army Man Crawl™ he stopped whining. Why? Because then he could follow us. He quickly graduated from Army Man Crawl™ to Man In The Desert™ to finally Full Contact Crawling™. But a few weeks ago, he made two bigger discoveries:
1) Sleeping all the way through the night means Lil Max is even happier during the day.
2) Standing up and cruising along Mommy and Daddy's furniture is nine kinds of nifty.
When I say he's a handful, or he's exhausting, or both, it's because there's more energy and joy of life packed into this little nine month old than anything I've ever seen. From the second he wakes up, his grin is ear-to-ear and he's excited to play.
Then he does something way advanced like he did last night and My Fair Lady and I fall out laughing.
We have a large box (courtesy of buying diapers in bulk online) and since he prefers playing with random household items instead of his toys (for the most part), he uses the box as a climbing tool. Yesterday I decided to try to chase him around it so I dropped to all fours and threatened him with tickles. He giggled loudly then squealed with glee when I moved after him. Around and around the box we went, laughing all the time.
Then he ducked inside the box (it was on its side) and "hid." I was under the impression that a nine month old shouldn't be able to initiate hide and seek, yet there he was doing just that. He would "hide" in the box, and squeal when I "found" him. It was hilarious.
At the very least, watching Lil Max grow and learn every single day for the last several months has been a joy. It's been stressful due to the financial situation, but bonding with Lil Max has been one of the best things I've ever done. He's been down for his afternoon nap for about two hours now (he caught the sniffles last night) so it's time to wake him.
After I swing by the kitchen and hit the pan of brownies first...
Let me start off by saying in the grand scheme of things challenging Yours Truly, My Fair Lady, and Lil Max, keeping up with "Now Playing At" hasn't been real high on my priority list. In fact, looking down at the floor I'd it's closer to if not under the stack of "must do now" items that have piled up. At the top of that pile?
Find a job. Like, right now. Right this second would be helpful too.
Basically, we've in a major bind since the first of the year when I was laid off. Two days later, My Fair Lady was hired in a contract capacity as a real estate attorney and has done a bang up job for her employer... who has kept her on contract. I signed on in February with a non-profit start-up as a writer/project manager and they're funding dried up in July. In the meantime, we've had to deal with an infant, an inability to afford daycare, and massive amounts of juggling as one will take him while the other works and so forth.
So here we are at the end of August when things have, in theory, started moving again. I've applied to practically every writing job I can find (four today if you can believe it) and I've even had a few interviews. Actually landed a quickie contract job for a company out of Florida last week where I rewrote all the text on their website. The worry here is we're majorly up against the wall, massively stressed out, and feeling more than a little terrified over what's going. I've applied to so many jobs I've had to start a Word document to track them all so I don't get confused.
In other words, the blog has been on hold for a while now due to market forces strangling the holy hell out of me.
I'd love to get back into doing this on a regular basis, I really would, so I again must hope for the best. In happier news, I've completed my screenplay and sent it off to a horror script contest in LA, and have a few friends hunting for agents that will take my call. I've also continued outlining and actually started a book, as well as outlined three new scripts that someday I hope to actually write. I strongly believe that in the next few weeks, good things will happen but it's the waiting game that is absolutely killing me.
But enough about that. How's Lil Max? In a word, exhausting.
Earlier in the year, he would lay on the floor like the blob a three month old is and just whine and whine some more. We'd feed him, try to play with him, but he'd just whine. Strangely enough, once he figured out how to do the Army Man Crawl™ he stopped whining. Why? Because then he could follow us. He quickly graduated from Army Man Crawl™ to Man In The Desert™ to finally Full Contact Crawling™. But a few weeks ago, he made two bigger discoveries:
1) Sleeping all the way through the night means Lil Max is even happier during the day.
2) Standing up and cruising along Mommy and Daddy's furniture is nine kinds of nifty.
When I say he's a handful, or he's exhausting, or both, it's because there's more energy and joy of life packed into this little nine month old than anything I've ever seen. From the second he wakes up, his grin is ear-to-ear and he's excited to play.
Then he does something way advanced like he did last night and My Fair Lady and I fall out laughing.
We have a large box (courtesy of buying diapers in bulk online) and since he prefers playing with random household items instead of his toys (for the most part), he uses the box as a climbing tool. Yesterday I decided to try to chase him around it so I dropped to all fours and threatened him with tickles. He giggled loudly then squealed with glee when I moved after him. Around and around the box we went, laughing all the time.
Then he ducked inside the box (it was on its side) and "hid." I was under the impression that a nine month old shouldn't be able to initiate hide and seek, yet there he was doing just that. He would "hide" in the box, and squeal when I "found" him. It was hilarious.
At the very least, watching Lil Max grow and learn every single day for the last several months has been a joy. It's been stressful due to the financial situation, but bonding with Lil Max has been one of the best things I've ever done. He's been down for his afternoon nap for about two hours now (he caught the sniffles last night) so it's time to wake him.
After I swing by the kitchen and hit the pan of brownies first...
Friday, August 7, 2009
Script #1 = Registered
This should have gone up on Monday after I did it, but better late than never. I registered my first screenplay with the WGA on Monday and I feel pretty dang good about it. This is a day that has been a long time coming and I'm excited. I have my feelers out there looking for agency names, and people who may have an interest so here's hoping things come to fruition sooner rather than later.
I'm also prepping to fire it off next week to a screenplay contest so we'll see. Right now I'm condensing a 108-page script into a single paragraph synopsis, which is tougher than it sounds. Oddly enough, condensing it down into a single sentence logline was simpler. Go figure.
As for the near future, I'm making notes now on a book I've been playing with off and on for the past year, as well as beginning to outline a script I wrote a rough draft for last year. Didn't really have an outline at the beginning of that one, which explains why it only runs 85 pages and sucks. But that one, since the first draft is done, should probably be my new focus so I'll at least have two scripts ready to go.
And yet again, this blog suffers from my inability to find time beyond Facebook status updates to let the world know what I'm doing. I'd get a Twitter account, but I feel stupid every time I go there so that's a non-starter. Even posting new GamingTrend reviews in our Twitter account leaves me feeling worried about the mental capacity of future generations. Though, in a hilarious bit of irony, ABC News last night commented at how John Quincy Adams essentially wrote journal entries of comparable length to Twitter posts, and he became president.
History may not always repeat, but it does often rhyme.
I'm also prepping to fire it off next week to a screenplay contest so we'll see. Right now I'm condensing a 108-page script into a single paragraph synopsis, which is tougher than it sounds. Oddly enough, condensing it down into a single sentence logline was simpler. Go figure.
As for the near future, I'm making notes now on a book I've been playing with off and on for the past year, as well as beginning to outline a script I wrote a rough draft for last year. Didn't really have an outline at the beginning of that one, which explains why it only runs 85 pages and sucks. But that one, since the first draft is done, should probably be my new focus so I'll at least have two scripts ready to go.
And yet again, this blog suffers from my inability to find time beyond Facebook status updates to let the world know what I'm doing. I'd get a Twitter account, but I feel stupid every time I go there so that's a non-starter. Even posting new GamingTrend reviews in our Twitter account leaves me feeling worried about the mental capacity of future generations. Though, in a hilarious bit of irony, ABC News last night commented at how John Quincy Adams essentially wrote journal entries of comparable length to Twitter posts, and he became president.
History may not always repeat, but it does often rhyme.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Life of the Party - by My Fair Lady
That is what I am now calling Max. I am constantly amazed at how social and easy going my baby boy is. It is truly amazing. Take tonight for example.
We met a couple for dinner at 7:00pm. Max is typically in bed by 8:30, so we thought, no sweat, he can handle it! Well, we haven’t seen these friends for awhile and of course we ended up staying at the restaurant until 9:05 pm. During which the WHOLE time, including after his normal bedtime, Max never fussed! He was happy, smiley, just having a great time! Makes Momma so proud!!
And, then he did what he has done before. We put him in the carseat to drive home (which was a 5 minute drive – maybe 8) and he cried the whole way home.
Why am I so amazed you ask? Because he ALWAYS keeps it together for company or social occasions. This baby learned his company manners when he was 3.5 to 4 months old. Sure he can be a little rough afterwards (he did go down after his bottle and bath immediately), but he is a dream while we are out with friends, at parties, etc.
I never knew a baby could figure out so young when it is time to be happy and have fun and when it is just Mommy and Daddy and I can tell them I am not so happy anymore. Now, we rarely (almost never) keep him out past his bedtime. But, it sure makes me breathe easy knowing that he will be a doll for the company, but may show me his frustration when it is just the three of us.
WOW!! I love Max for infinite reasons, and tonight is just one of the smaller reasons.
We met a couple for dinner at 7:00pm. Max is typically in bed by 8:30, so we thought, no sweat, he can handle it! Well, we haven’t seen these friends for awhile and of course we ended up staying at the restaurant until 9:05 pm. During which the WHOLE time, including after his normal bedtime, Max never fussed! He was happy, smiley, just having a great time! Makes Momma so proud!!
And, then he did what he has done before. We put him in the carseat to drive home (which was a 5 minute drive – maybe 8) and he cried the whole way home.
Why am I so amazed you ask? Because he ALWAYS keeps it together for company or social occasions. This baby learned his company manners when he was 3.5 to 4 months old. Sure he can be a little rough afterwards (he did go down after his bottle and bath immediately), but he is a dream while we are out with friends, at parties, etc.
I never knew a baby could figure out so young when it is time to be happy and have fun and when it is just Mommy and Daddy and I can tell them I am not so happy anymore. Now, we rarely (almost never) keep him out past his bedtime. But, it sure makes me breathe easy knowing that he will be a doll for the company, but may show me his frustration when it is just the three of us.
WOW!! I love Max for infinite reasons, and tonight is just one of the smaller reasons.
My baby is 7 months old! - by My Fair Lady
EDIT - This was written but not published when Max was 7 months old. So here it is now.
Max is such a good little baby. Although as everyone has seen, he doesn't sleep through the night consistently, that is a small price to pay for such an amazing baby. Max is so happy and I love to make him laugh. He laughs very easily and I think he gets that from me. It is so funny to make funny faces and get him going.
Tonight while Mitch and I were eating, Max was sitting in his high chair between us eating a rice cake, and he fell asleep while he was sucking on his rice cake. Too funny!! Of course we immediately started to take pictures of him to capture the moment.
Max is a very inquisitive baby and studies everything while we are out and about.
Max is such a good little baby. Although as everyone has seen, he doesn't sleep through the night consistently, that is a small price to pay for such an amazing baby. Max is so happy and I love to make him laugh. He laughs very easily and I think he gets that from me. It is so funny to make funny faces and get him going.
Tonight while Mitch and I were eating, Max was sitting in his high chair between us eating a rice cake, and he fell asleep while he was sucking on his rice cake. Too funny!! Of course we immediately started to take pictures of him to capture the moment.
Max is a very inquisitive baby and studies everything while we are out and about.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Time to dust this one off
Alright, so I was lied to when people told me I would still have time to do my own thing even after having a child. For all of you out there who still believes this, WAKE! UP! NOW!
Basically your life is consumed wholly and utterly and if you're a sort like Yours Truly who prefers to blog and write when I think up something funny, or want to moan about movies and games, then you're effectively in the dog house. I don't think I have ever been this exhausted EVER in my life, and that includes four years of college where I lived, on average, on three hours of sleep a night. But then a funny thing happened last week...
Little Max slept through the night. Then he did it again. Then he did it again. Then he screwed us by getting a bug of some sort that hurt his tummy and ruined all of our nights. But that wasn't his fault and despite us being frustrated, we'd picked up enough sleep from the previous nights to get through it.
Then the next night he slept through it again.
Now, for a little clarification on how Max sleeps through the night. He goes down around 7:30 p.m. or 8 p.m. depending on how hard he's crashing. Then he wakes up between 11:30 p.m. and midnight which is when we change his diaper then feed him an 8 ounce bottle of formula. Treat with Mylicon, burp him if possible, then put him back down. He's then out until 7 a.m.-ish.
After almost eight months of not sleeping through the night, this has been a divine blessing. Sleep. Blessed sleep. And here I am blogging again. Who knows how long this kick will last? But I can tell you this much:
Had a phone interview today for a part time writing gig where the writers are expected to burn out between 500 and 1000 words a day. Pffft. I can do that in my sleep. Should I get the gig, and My Fair Lady continue to work in hers, then our fortunes could turn around right quick. Not to mention that sort of constant adrenaline-fueled writing binge on a daily basis is EXACTLY what I need. Like any other skill, the ability to write is useless unless you write.
That's something I've not been doing a lot of lately, except on my script which is now on draft #4. I'm incorporating edits from my readers as well as from my own two eyes and the script is vastly superior now to my original draft. I want to get everything together by next week then start drafting out loglines and queries to the various agencies on my list. After all these years of talking about it, I'm finally on the verge of actually sending my script to Hollywood. It is difficult to understate how much of a personal accomplishment that day will be. Which reminds me - I'm going to shout for joy when I register my script with the WGA and the USPA.
And that day is coming very, very soon.
In theory, if I get this spot then it'll kick my ass hard enough that I'll write more here and for myself since I'll essentially be writing all the time. Since it's part time, that sort of intensive writing would be a perfect kick off for the day. More as it develops.
Basically your life is consumed wholly and utterly and if you're a sort like Yours Truly who prefers to blog and write when I think up something funny, or want to moan about movies and games, then you're effectively in the dog house. I don't think I have ever been this exhausted EVER in my life, and that includes four years of college where I lived, on average, on three hours of sleep a night. But then a funny thing happened last week...
Little Max slept through the night. Then he did it again. Then he did it again. Then he screwed us by getting a bug of some sort that hurt his tummy and ruined all of our nights. But that wasn't his fault and despite us being frustrated, we'd picked up enough sleep from the previous nights to get through it.
Then the next night he slept through it again.
Now, for a little clarification on how Max sleeps through the night. He goes down around 7:30 p.m. or 8 p.m. depending on how hard he's crashing. Then he wakes up between 11:30 p.m. and midnight which is when we change his diaper then feed him an 8 ounce bottle of formula. Treat with Mylicon, burp him if possible, then put him back down. He's then out until 7 a.m.-ish.
After almost eight months of not sleeping through the night, this has been a divine blessing. Sleep. Blessed sleep. And here I am blogging again. Who knows how long this kick will last? But I can tell you this much:
Had a phone interview today for a part time writing gig where the writers are expected to burn out between 500 and 1000 words a day. Pffft. I can do that in my sleep. Should I get the gig, and My Fair Lady continue to work in hers, then our fortunes could turn around right quick. Not to mention that sort of constant adrenaline-fueled writing binge on a daily basis is EXACTLY what I need. Like any other skill, the ability to write is useless unless you write.
That's something I've not been doing a lot of lately, except on my script which is now on draft #4. I'm incorporating edits from my readers as well as from my own two eyes and the script is vastly superior now to my original draft. I want to get everything together by next week then start drafting out loglines and queries to the various agencies on my list. After all these years of talking about it, I'm finally on the verge of actually sending my script to Hollywood. It is difficult to understate how much of a personal accomplishment that day will be. Which reminds me - I'm going to shout for joy when I register my script with the WGA and the USPA.
And that day is coming very, very soon.
In theory, if I get this spot then it'll kick my ass hard enough that I'll write more here and for myself since I'll essentially be writing all the time. Since it's part time, that sort of intensive writing would be a perfect kick off for the day. More as it develops.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Whew!
So that's what it feels like to buckle down for three weeks and blow through a screenplay. And here I thought I'd be able to finish off this latest draft in no time flat. That train of thought left the station right around November which was, conveniently enough, the same time little Max was born.
I've been trying to finish the rewrite ever since.
Despite My Fair Lady giving me plenty of time here and there to write, it still hasn't been enough. The massive level of stress induced by a newborn (magnified tremendously by both parents working from home and being with him24/7) has pretty effectively neutralized my creative impulses. Not to mention consumed both of us more than we'd like. With newborns, you have to make a list of things you want or need to complete, then expect to get no more than two done a day. That's if you're lucky. If not, then nothing will get completed until (maybe) tomorrow.
With that in mind, I've spent more time in the last three weeks devoted to finishing this thing than was probably healthy. So I decided that I would have it locked by 5 p.m. 06/05/09. Setting a hard deadline was literally the only thing that would help me because I'd tried everything else. Finally, I just looked in the mirror, told myself that it was time and set that deadline. Completed it Thursday night at 11:30 p.m. But! .....
Factor the sort of lifestyle we're now living into trying to craft a feature length screenplay and make it good, and the challenge most closely resembles Mt. Everest. As an example, here's what happened the night I completed it.
Put Max down about 7:30 p.m. For the next 45 minutes I cleaned the kitchen and straightened around the house. My Fair Lady will think this reflects poorly upon our skills as parents. I disagree. I think it reflects that we're parents. Then I ate something quick and finally sat down at my computer around 8:20 p.m. or so. Cranked through the finale of my script and all was going well. I actually knew exactly where I was going at that point and the light at the end of the tunnel was brilliant.
At 9:30 p.m. I'm five sentences away from completing it when I hear Max wake up. If you're planning on having kids, I'd recommend this Safety 1st Baby Monitor set as the one to get. Great range + crystal clarity = win for America. I pick him up and try to rock him down. He's having none of it. I rock him some more. No go. I stare at my computer screen. Oh so close.
My Fair Lady was out at an event so this was entirely my shop for the night, just to clarify.
After a 30 minute power struggle, I finally get him back down. I drop back in my seat and it takes me a bit to calm down and then go back to finishing. By that I mean I played some Fairway Solitaire to soothe my nerves, then jumped out of that and opened my script back up. Where was I? Oh yes! I was....
"Waaaaaaaaaaa!!!!"
At that point I was banging my head on the desk. Probably harder than I should have, to be honest. I checked back on Max, and believe it or not he was more awake than he had been previously. Bottle time!
Changed his diaper first, then fixed him a large bottle, followed by trying to rock him back down. My Fair Lady showed up then right as I was rocking him down, and she helped me get him into bed again. He was snoring by the time I walked from his crib to the door.
Once we were out of earshot I exploded in frustration. I wasn't angry at her for going out, nor was I angry at him being up constantly. Had I been screwing around on "Left 4 Dead" or "Ninja Gaiden II" I wouldn't have cared. But the fact I was five sentences away from completing this yet was stymied royally pissed me off.
So I took out those frustrations on a bad guy at the end. He was going to live. Not now. Oh no. Not at all. Originally he just learned a lesson. Now he gets shredded. Subtle? Nope. Satisfying?
Absolutely.
ADDENDUM:
I started this blog post at 1:57 p.m. and am finishing it at 8:16 p.m. If that doesn't pretty much spell it out for you what raising an infant is like, I'm not sure what else will.
I've been trying to finish the rewrite ever since.
Despite My Fair Lady giving me plenty of time here and there to write, it still hasn't been enough. The massive level of stress induced by a newborn (magnified tremendously by both parents working from home and being with him24/7) has pretty effectively neutralized my creative impulses. Not to mention consumed both of us more than we'd like. With newborns, you have to make a list of things you want or need to complete, then expect to get no more than two done a day. That's if you're lucky. If not, then nothing will get completed until (maybe) tomorrow.
With that in mind, I've spent more time in the last three weeks devoted to finishing this thing than was probably healthy. So I decided that I would have it locked by 5 p.m. 06/05/09. Setting a hard deadline was literally the only thing that would help me because I'd tried everything else. Finally, I just looked in the mirror, told myself that it was time and set that deadline. Completed it Thursday night at 11:30 p.m. But! .....
Factor the sort of lifestyle we're now living into trying to craft a feature length screenplay and make it good, and the challenge most closely resembles Mt. Everest. As an example, here's what happened the night I completed it.
Put Max down about 7:30 p.m. For the next 45 minutes I cleaned the kitchen and straightened around the house. My Fair Lady will think this reflects poorly upon our skills as parents. I disagree. I think it reflects that we're parents. Then I ate something quick and finally sat down at my computer around 8:20 p.m. or so. Cranked through the finale of my script and all was going well. I actually knew exactly where I was going at that point and the light at the end of the tunnel was brilliant.
At 9:30 p.m. I'm five sentences away from completing it when I hear Max wake up. If you're planning on having kids, I'd recommend this Safety 1st Baby Monitor set as the one to get. Great range + crystal clarity = win for America. I pick him up and try to rock him down. He's having none of it. I rock him some more. No go. I stare at my computer screen. Oh so close.
My Fair Lady was out at an event so this was entirely my shop for the night, just to clarify.
After a 30 minute power struggle, I finally get him back down. I drop back in my seat and it takes me a bit to calm down and then go back to finishing. By that I mean I played some Fairway Solitaire to soothe my nerves, then jumped out of that and opened my script back up. Where was I? Oh yes! I was....
"Waaaaaaaaaaa!!!!"
At that point I was banging my head on the desk. Probably harder than I should have, to be honest. I checked back on Max, and believe it or not he was more awake than he had been previously. Bottle time!
Changed his diaper first, then fixed him a large bottle, followed by trying to rock him back down. My Fair Lady showed up then right as I was rocking him down, and she helped me get him into bed again. He was snoring by the time I walked from his crib to the door.
Once we were out of earshot I exploded in frustration. I wasn't angry at her for going out, nor was I angry at him being up constantly. Had I been screwing around on "Left 4 Dead" or "Ninja Gaiden II" I wouldn't have cared. But the fact I was five sentences away from completing this yet was stymied royally pissed me off.
So I took out those frustrations on a bad guy at the end. He was going to live. Not now. Oh no. Not at all. Originally he just learned a lesson. Now he gets shredded. Subtle? Nope. Satisfying?
Absolutely.
ADDENDUM:
I started this blog post at 1:57 p.m. and am finishing it at 8:16 p.m. If that doesn't pretty much spell it out for you what raising an infant is like, I'm not sure what else will.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Baptism
This weekend was a big one in terms of family because we had Max baptized on Sunday. This meant My Fair Lady's family was in town (staying with us, naturally) and my family hosted lunch. It also meant that Max had to be on his best behavior in front of a large congregation while wearing a dress and getting what he might regard as a bath.
So the challenge unfolded before us. Should we continue his training in the finer arts of adult-baby interaction? Or should we instead assume that he had reached the pinnacle of his training and was ready to go forth on his own? We opted for the latter. It was just a question of how would everything turn out.
We raced about the house that morning, frantic to gather our equipment and our wits. Little Max opted to forgo sleep the night before, instead deciding it best to psych himself up for his debut on the world stage. An unfortunate by-product of this was tremendous suffering on the part of his poor, beleaguered parents who by this point should be used to him not sleeping.
When he finally decided he was finished with his bed that morning, he let us know via a steady stream of babbling to his frog. We got him ready, fed him, and proceeded to wrangle ourselves and the in-laws into our vehicles. The mad dash to the church began.
Down the Tollway we raced, our hearts beating in our throats. Would we make it in time? Would Max throw up all over the minister? Would he do worse? Would the minister throw up all over him, either through illness or retaliation?
These were the thoughts that began to drive us mad with worry.
Once we arrived, we confirmed the location of both family parties then headed to the room specifically set aside for baptism babies. There we met two other couples, one of which was in our orientation meeting the prior month. The ministers arrived, said their pieces, and we paused for a moment of prayer. Which was the exact moment Max decided he liked his daddy so much he just had to deliver a slopping wet Baby Kiss right then and there.
Normally when we say "Baby kiss!" to Max, he turns and opens his mouth wide and plops it up against our heads. Recently though he figured that wasn't demonstrative enough of the love, so he grabs our hair with both hands, opens his mouth as wide as possible, then pulls himself to our faces.
Consider yourself warned if you're ever holding him and the phrase "baby kiss" is uttered in your vicinity. You then have about a second to make your peace with God before your face is mauled by an over-enthusiastic six month old.
As everyone finished their prayers, I was struggling to free myself from Max's surprisingly strong grip. The ministers left, I wiped my face down and pulled a chunk of hair from each of his little hands, then made sure he was ready. Away we were ushered to the sanctuary. We sat in the pews to the side, and I spotted Diva and Brother G waving at me from a few pews over.
Then the worm squirmed.
Maybe it was the choice of hymns. Presbyterians have an odd assortment of hymns, and the current reigning minister of our church has eclectic tastes to put it mildly. Or maybe he took after his old man. He'd also never seen that many people in one place so he started looking around, eventually smiling at and making faces for the elderly woman sitting behind us. Then the singing started and his little head spun around to say, "Wassat?"
Then we were called up for the sacrament and the three of us followed the other families to the front of the sanctuary. The child to our left was five months, Max was six months, and the other child was closer to 10 months old. We stood in the middle and the minister began prattling on in his usual way (I'm not his most ardent fan) when an odd noise echoed through the hall.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
The 10 month old picked that moment to realize moving his finger up and down rapidly on his lips produced a funny noise.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
The congregation busted out laughing. The minister tried to keep a straight face but to no avail. He picked up the first child and began delivering his spiel as he baptized the child.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Next up was Max who looked at the man more curious than anything else. He seems fascinating by elderly people, I guess because their faces look so much different than ours. He's with us almost 24/7 so seeing something new is fascinating to him. He smiled a little bit as the water hit his head, and then he was officially square with the Lord.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Next up was Blabbermouth who also handled the water well. Then the minister closed with a lengthy prayer (very, very lengthy) and we were directed to our seats.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Max decided at that point that he'd had enough of sitting on our laps, so we quickly made our way out and dropped him at the day care. Fortunately, he was the only one there and a grandmother roughly 354 years old was anxious to hold him. Unlike last time, he didn't take a nap in those petrie dishes they refer to as "cribs" so illness failed to find him again. The rest of the service was perfectly fine up to the sermon, when the minister figured a mixing of several different hymns would illustrate his point. After all was said and done, I had no idea what the hell his point must have been.
Fail.
After taking several pictures outside (and the weather was perfect), we headed to my parents' house for lunch and more pictures. Max was a doll through this whole ordeal, doubly funny considering his behavior the night before. We can only hope that eventually he'll get to where he can be with lots and lots of people and not get stressed out.
But since he's apparently my clone, fat chance of that happening... ever.
The extra good news from the day's events though was getting a rare picture of both our families together. My Fair Lady has moaned for years that we never did that during our wedding, but fortune smiled upon us Sunday and granted her wish.
Oh, and Diva threatened to abscond with Max back home to LA due to his increasing adorability. Yes, he's adorable and grows more so every day. No, you can't have him Diva. Steal someone else's.
So the challenge unfolded before us. Should we continue his training in the finer arts of adult-baby interaction? Or should we instead assume that he had reached the pinnacle of his training and was ready to go forth on his own? We opted for the latter. It was just a question of how would everything turn out.
We raced about the house that morning, frantic to gather our equipment and our wits. Little Max opted to forgo sleep the night before, instead deciding it best to psych himself up for his debut on the world stage. An unfortunate by-product of this was tremendous suffering on the part of his poor, beleaguered parents who by this point should be used to him not sleeping.
When he finally decided he was finished with his bed that morning, he let us know via a steady stream of babbling to his frog. We got him ready, fed him, and proceeded to wrangle ourselves and the in-laws into our vehicles. The mad dash to the church began.
Down the Tollway we raced, our hearts beating in our throats. Would we make it in time? Would Max throw up all over the minister? Would he do worse? Would the minister throw up all over him, either through illness or retaliation?
These were the thoughts that began to drive us mad with worry.
Once we arrived, we confirmed the location of both family parties then headed to the room specifically set aside for baptism babies. There we met two other couples, one of which was in our orientation meeting the prior month. The ministers arrived, said their pieces, and we paused for a moment of prayer. Which was the exact moment Max decided he liked his daddy so much he just had to deliver a slopping wet Baby Kiss right then and there.
Normally when we say "Baby kiss!" to Max, he turns and opens his mouth wide and plops it up against our heads. Recently though he figured that wasn't demonstrative enough of the love, so he grabs our hair with both hands, opens his mouth as wide as possible, then pulls himself to our faces.
Consider yourself warned if you're ever holding him and the phrase "baby kiss" is uttered in your vicinity. You then have about a second to make your peace with God before your face is mauled by an over-enthusiastic six month old.
As everyone finished their prayers, I was struggling to free myself from Max's surprisingly strong grip. The ministers left, I wiped my face down and pulled a chunk of hair from each of his little hands, then made sure he was ready. Away we were ushered to the sanctuary. We sat in the pews to the side, and I spotted Diva and Brother G waving at me from a few pews over.
Then the worm squirmed.
Maybe it was the choice of hymns. Presbyterians have an odd assortment of hymns, and the current reigning minister of our church has eclectic tastes to put it mildly. Or maybe he took after his old man. He'd also never seen that many people in one place so he started looking around, eventually smiling at and making faces for the elderly woman sitting behind us. Then the singing started and his little head spun around to say, "Wassat?"
Then we were called up for the sacrament and the three of us followed the other families to the front of the sanctuary. The child to our left was five months, Max was six months, and the other child was closer to 10 months old. We stood in the middle and the minister began prattling on in his usual way (I'm not his most ardent fan) when an odd noise echoed through the hall.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
The 10 month old picked that moment to realize moving his finger up and down rapidly on his lips produced a funny noise.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
The congregation busted out laughing. The minister tried to keep a straight face but to no avail. He picked up the first child and began delivering his spiel as he baptized the child.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Next up was Max who looked at the man more curious than anything else. He seems fascinating by elderly people, I guess because their faces look so much different than ours. He's with us almost 24/7 so seeing something new is fascinating to him. He smiled a little bit as the water hit his head, and then he was officially square with the Lord.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Next up was Blabbermouth who also handled the water well. Then the minister closed with a lengthy prayer (very, very lengthy) and we were directed to our seats.
"Bbbbbbbbuuuuhhbbbbbb."
Max decided at that point that he'd had enough of sitting on our laps, so we quickly made our way out and dropped him at the day care. Fortunately, he was the only one there and a grandmother roughly 354 years old was anxious to hold him. Unlike last time, he didn't take a nap in those petrie dishes they refer to as "cribs" so illness failed to find him again. The rest of the service was perfectly fine up to the sermon, when the minister figured a mixing of several different hymns would illustrate his point. After all was said and done, I had no idea what the hell his point must have been.
Fail.
After taking several pictures outside (and the weather was perfect), we headed to my parents' house for lunch and more pictures. Max was a doll through this whole ordeal, doubly funny considering his behavior the night before. We can only hope that eventually he'll get to where he can be with lots and lots of people and not get stressed out.
But since he's apparently my clone, fat chance of that happening... ever.
The extra good news from the day's events though was getting a rare picture of both our families together. My Fair Lady has moaned for years that we never did that during our wedding, but fortune smiled upon us Sunday and granted her wish.
Oh, and Diva threatened to abscond with Max back home to LA due to his increasing adorability. Yes, he's adorable and grows more so every day. No, you can't have him Diva. Steal someone else's.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Now Playing: Star Trek
They finally did it. But first a quickie history:"Star Trek" began in the 1960s, ran for three years, was subsequently canned despite solid ratings (an imprecise science back then), then brought back to great fanfare as "Star Trek: The Motion Picture" in the late 1970s. The film was meant to be the rebirth of "Star Trek." Yet for all the money hurled at it, and director Robert Wise's misguided, though bold, idea to make the film a genuine science fiction picture, the result is best summed up by comic writer Harlan Ellison's derisive dubbing of it, "The Motionless Picture."
A few years later, gold was struck. The budget was considerable slashed for the sequel, sets and effects were all reused, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the greatest villain of the series, Khan, was brought back and Ricardo Montalban delivered one of the single most legendary performances to grace cinema. Good villains are a dime a dozen but the great ones are near mythic in their infrequency. Khan was such a villain and that set the stage for the rest of the film series. There would be highs (parts IV and VI) and lows (part V and some of part III), and of course there would be new shows.
I wasn't as big a fan of "Star Trek: The Next Generation" as my friends were because I understood, even if I lacked the proper TV lingo, what a "reset button" was. Every episode would do something drastic then by the end everything was fine and on their merry way the crew went. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. But then came "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" and suddenly "Star Trek" was dangerous again.
For the record, the show did not start well. It took a season and a half for them to find their footing despite some stellar one-offs mixed in. But once the show figured out what it wanted, it never looked back and by the end of it primary characters were dead, worlds left in waste, and half the Federation starfleet was decimated by a war that was so large it took two (almost three) seasons to cover. The show demonstrated that creator Gene Roddenberry's vision of a Utopian human society could be achieved while still bringing some awesome drama. Unfortunately, the staggering amount of lexicon developed over the preceding decades peaked here and all subsequent shows relied more and more on tech-speak and less on drama.
The less said about the "TNG" movies, "Voyager," and "Enterprise" the better.
JJ Abrams must have said "Screw all that!" because the first thing he did with his brilliant resurrection of the franchise is ensure that it is first and foremost a "Star Trek" for everyone. This new film is confident, swaggering, and filled with so much energy and passion and rich, rich emotional drama that I can scarcely believe I saw just one film instead of five. It brings back the original characters fans grew up with and reinvigorates them with an mission sorely lacking from the most recent shows.
In short, this film is filled with win front to back and I can't wait to see it again.
It kicks off with an event that brought My Fair Lady to tears - an attack on the USS Kelvin. Through an act of selflessness, the newly minted captain goes down with the ship in a last ditch effort to at least hurt their unknown attackers. The survivors include his wife who managed to give birth and leave enough time for the captain to participate in the naming of their son - James Tiberius Kirk.
That this singular event is what changes the whole of the "Trek" universe is genius. In the original storyline, Kirk's dad was his inspiration for boldly going through the Academy. So what happens if you remove the inspiration for someone whose actions later in life would literally shape the future of a galaxy? What sort of future would you be left with?
Oh by the way, this is indeed a time travel film in the sense that time travel is involved. That it opens with a game changer and throws another one at you roughly every 15 minutes or so is par for the course. You never know what to expect here and any film that can keep viewers this on their toes deserves all the accolades one can lavish upon it.
I loved the introduction of the characters (especially the hilarious throw-away line that describes where McCoy gets his future nickname). I loved how Uhura gets more lines in the film than the original did in the entire series. I love the awful and hilarious fate of the red shirt, as well as the entire setup for the joke. I love that Christopher Pike is not just in this film, but is a key player. I love that we get to see the test by which Kirk made his name, and it is every bit as hilarious as we'd hoped for with a punchline that left me howling. I love the advanced-yet-retro feel for the equipment and the costumes. And most of all I loved the way the cast absolutely nailed their characters.
Chris Pine is going to be the next Brad Pitt, albeit with more range. I think Pitt does brooding and crazy well, but the in between is where he repeats himself. Pine has the looks for sure, but he simply oozes confidence throughout which is exactly what he has to do as one of the biggest alpha males Hollywood has ever come up with. He's not playing Shatner either. He's playing James T. Kirk and he is note-perfect. Ignore how rapid his ascension to the captain's chair is for a moment, and stand in awe at how wonderfully Pine plays it. He's also got rock solid comic timing. All of this bodes well for future installments.
Zach Quinto has the toughest job in the film. Not only does he have to play a more emotionally conflicted Spock, he has to do it up against the actual Spock. Taking on a legendary character is one thing but doing so while the original actor is in that same character has to be terrifying, but Quinto is perfect. He even has the vocal mannerisms down pat, despite lacking the timber Leonard Nimoy adds to words like "fascinating."
Karl Urban has never left much of an impression on me other than "hey, it's that guy." But he resurrects the great DeForrest Kelly and gives us Dr. McCoy anew. He's older, been beaten down by life, and Starfleet is his only recourse. His banter with both Kirk and Spock is classic and I can't wait to see this trio continue.
The other actors do what they can, but they're limited in this installment. My one major beef is that Scotty shows up over an hour into the film and he's barely given enough time to breathe. That being said, when he's on screen he kills and the way he fits into this universe is perfect. Of course, the only question regarding Simon Pegg as how funny he would make Scotty and the answer is "very." Oh, and of course he uses one of Scotty's catch-phrases at exactly the right moment.
Despite a few things worth nitpicking (the entire sequence on the ice planet, for starters, may as well have been labeled "insert exposition sequences here") this film is so filled with goodies for movie lovers that it is worth seeing again and again. I haven't even spoken about the villain (who is functional but not memorable), or the references to past "Star Trek" lore, or the way there is no sound in space, or the genius of the entire space diving sequence, or the way this film fundamentally changes the universe and keeps going at the end.
They finally did it. They finally made a "Star Trek" film the eshews the problems that plagued the various shows. They finally made a "Star Trek" with an insane budget where every cent appears on screen. They finally made a "Star Trek" that my non-Trek fan wife can't wait to see a second time. The finally made a "Star Trek" with real danger and real consequences that pulls no punches and sets the stage where anything is possible.
They finally made a "Star Trek" for everyone and it is GLORIOUS.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mother's Day to My Fair Lady
My Fair Lady celebrates her very first Mother's Day this year and now is a perfect time to tell her thank you for everything she does:
1) She keeps me grounded. I have the attention span of a flea and historically jump from one project to the next to the next without finishing much if anything. As much as I hate it when she reigns me back in by reminding me about project X, it ensures that I maintain focus and ultimately complete it. I've become infinitely more productive since meeting her.
2) She's fun to mess with. She's a genuine sweetheart but sometimes lacks a sense of the obvious. This combined with me having a solid poker face means I can usually pull the wool over her eyes regarding something that may obviously be outrageous. The trick is to see how long I can string her along with an ever-increasing series of bogus claims without her figuring it out. This usually provides remarkable entertainment.
3) She's dedicated. When she decides she's going to do something, she attains it no matter what or when. Her path to becoming an attorney would have made lesser men and women quit in disgust but she persevered. It is a testament to her determination and will serve notice to Max and #2 in the future that she won't back down from them, regardless of how unruly they become.
4) She's a sweetheart. I've never met anyone so enamored of the "can't we all get along?" side of life. She's a genuine, honest, and forthright person that always has to do the right thing because to do otherwise is simply unacceptable. Even skirting a gray area gives her considerable pause. You don't find many people like this in the world and the ones who exist should be cherished.
5) I still crush on her. We've been together seven years, five of which are married years come August, and I still have a crush on her. I like the way she walks, and the way she holds herself, and for some bizarre reason I enjoy her refusal to ever "reveal anything." This sometimes includes anything that even remotely hints at cleavage, of which she has an ample supply. I find this endlessly funny, but hey - more for me. :)
6) She's the mother of my son. The fact I can say that I have a son continues to astound me, especially as he rolls on the floor while I type this. It's wild and terrifying to be a parent, and the journey we've already taken with Max has been a game changer for me. I love him dearly, and I love her for giving him to me.
7) I love her. I do. Plain and simply, I do.
Happy First Mother's Day to My Fair Lady, and I hope that you continue to enjoy all the rest to come. Now if you'll excuse me, Max is grunting with such gusto that he's either passing his body weight in poop or is more in need of a laxative than anyone else ever.
1) She keeps me grounded. I have the attention span of a flea and historically jump from one project to the next to the next without finishing much if anything. As much as I hate it when she reigns me back in by reminding me about project X, it ensures that I maintain focus and ultimately complete it. I've become infinitely more productive since meeting her.
2) She's fun to mess with. She's a genuine sweetheart but sometimes lacks a sense of the obvious. This combined with me having a solid poker face means I can usually pull the wool over her eyes regarding something that may obviously be outrageous. The trick is to see how long I can string her along with an ever-increasing series of bogus claims without her figuring it out. This usually provides remarkable entertainment.
3) She's dedicated. When she decides she's going to do something, she attains it no matter what or when. Her path to becoming an attorney would have made lesser men and women quit in disgust but she persevered. It is a testament to her determination and will serve notice to Max and #2 in the future that she won't back down from them, regardless of how unruly they become.
4) She's a sweetheart. I've never met anyone so enamored of the "can't we all get along?" side of life. She's a genuine, honest, and forthright person that always has to do the right thing because to do otherwise is simply unacceptable. Even skirting a gray area gives her considerable pause. You don't find many people like this in the world and the ones who exist should be cherished.
5) I still crush on her. We've been together seven years, five of which are married years come August, and I still have a crush on her. I like the way she walks, and the way she holds herself, and for some bizarre reason I enjoy her refusal to ever "reveal anything." This sometimes includes anything that even remotely hints at cleavage, of which she has an ample supply. I find this endlessly funny, but hey - more for me. :)
6) She's the mother of my son. The fact I can say that I have a son continues to astound me, especially as he rolls on the floor while I type this. It's wild and terrifying to be a parent, and the journey we've already taken with Max has been a game changer for me. I love him dearly, and I love her for giving him to me.
7) I love her. I do. Plain and simply, I do.
Happy First Mother's Day to My Fair Lady, and I hope that you continue to enjoy all the rest to come. Now if you'll excuse me, Max is grunting with such gusto that he's either passing his body weight in poop or is more in need of a laxative than anyone else ever.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Mom's Musings Part II
Bear with me - I don't bring the funny like other contributors to this site - but I am a numbers gal (despite the fact that I am a lawyer) and my dear sweet hubby is the wordsmith.
Anyhoo, I need to blog more - enough said! Max is now five months old. He has evolved from a tiny baby who would lay about and sleep most of the day to a very active baby. Gone are the days where you put him in one spot, walk out of the room to get a drink, and return to find he hasn't moved an inch. Now, we put him in the middle of our big living room, I walk out to get a drink, and he has moved five feet from where I put him. Oh, the joy of baby proofing begins!
Max and I enjoy reading alot. I read to him every day however, not at bedtime. I find him more engaged and interested when I read to him during the day instead of at bedtime. He turns the pages of the book and has since he was three months old. His Tootsie thinks this is amazing. I just thought it was typical. I recently bought him some soft books so that he can turn the pages and chew on them at the same time. :) So, hopefully I am turning him into a lifetime reader like me. I have read all my life and I hope he does as well.
I am so excited about this coming summer! I love to be outside and go on picnics and whatnot. Max, being the outdoorsman that he is, should have so much fun this summer playing outside. We took him to the Arboretum for their annual spring flower festival and he was such a happy camper! I have scheduled quite a few outings for this summer including the Fourth of July parade. Yeah!! We also recently acquired a very nice jogging stroller to take him for walks. I run 5ks - and will be doing one in four weeks - but I think he is too small for me to run with him. When he gets bigger, I will jog with him for the 5ks, but for now, his Daddy will watch him while I run. There will come a day when I hope to run with him. We can start on one mile fun runs and work our way up. :) It is funny - part of me thinks he is growing up WAY too fast and the other part of me is so excited about what the future holds when he is bigger. I guess that is why everyone says that your baby is always your baby no matter how old he is.
Anyhoo, I need to blog more - enough said! Max is now five months old. He has evolved from a tiny baby who would lay about and sleep most of the day to a very active baby. Gone are the days where you put him in one spot, walk out of the room to get a drink, and return to find he hasn't moved an inch. Now, we put him in the middle of our big living room, I walk out to get a drink, and he has moved five feet from where I put him. Oh, the joy of baby proofing begins!
Max and I enjoy reading alot. I read to him every day however, not at bedtime. I find him more engaged and interested when I read to him during the day instead of at bedtime. He turns the pages of the book and has since he was three months old. His Tootsie thinks this is amazing. I just thought it was typical. I recently bought him some soft books so that he can turn the pages and chew on them at the same time. :) So, hopefully I am turning him into a lifetime reader like me. I have read all my life and I hope he does as well.
I am so excited about this coming summer! I love to be outside and go on picnics and whatnot. Max, being the outdoorsman that he is, should have so much fun this summer playing outside. We took him to the Arboretum for their annual spring flower festival and he was such a happy camper! I have scheduled quite a few outings for this summer including the Fourth of July parade. Yeah!! We also recently acquired a very nice jogging stroller to take him for walks. I run 5ks - and will be doing one in four weeks - but I think he is too small for me to run with him. When he gets bigger, I will jog with him for the 5ks, but for now, his Daddy will watch him while I run. There will come a day when I hope to run with him. We can start on one mile fun runs and work our way up. :) It is funny - part of me thinks he is growing up WAY too fast and the other part of me is so excited about what the future holds when he is bigger. I guess that is why everyone says that your baby is always your baby no matter how old he is.
Mom's Musings
Mom's Musings. Max is now three and a half months old. WOW!! Time flies! Every day he is becoming so much more fun to play with. Max recently discovered his toes and now seems fascinated with the fact that he has feet. His pediatrician told us that first babies realize they have arms, then hands, then fingers - I assume the same holds true with the discovery of hey - I have legs, to hey I have feet - then WOW I Have TOES!! Imagine that! Max is such a joy and I love how he coos and talks. He also is starting the process of learning to crawl - two weeks ago he started putting his cute baby butt in the air and then trying to scoot forward. I am still trying to explain to him he needs to put his weight up on his arms to move. I can't wait to see what happens next! :)
Progress of sorts
Last night was an odd one. For us at least. Our tale starts as Max began a full fledged meltdown at 4 p.m. that turned into a baby laughing fit and ends with a remarkable amount of sleep for both him and for My Fair Lady while I was unable to sleep due to a massive rain storm for only the second time in my life.
Two weeks ago we had three trees cut down in our front yard. Piles and piles of large branches were lined up behind our fence per the city's instructions on where to leave such refuse, but there was still a massive collection in our driveway. The city tagged it and moved on expecting us to call out a cherry picker, or I could take a few days and cut down the pile myself.
I chose the latter.
As I chopped and hacked and slashed my way through the better part of Saturday, My Fair Lady reorganized the garage while Max sat very patiently in his stroller. He just watched us both very pleasantly and continued to prove that he's an outdoorsman. I swear, you take this kid outside and he's golden for three or four hours solid. Such was the case yesterday up to the point where it was time to feed him cereal.
We'd been inside and done with yardwork for about an hour when My Fair Lady reminded me that he needed his cereal. So I took him into the kitchen and put him in the Swedish Chair (his high chair) and that's when the meltdown began.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
I yanked him out of the chair and he immediately stopped.
"What the hell was that?" I asked him. He just looked around. I put him back in the Swedish Chair and the result was the same. This time I finished the process of strapping him in and assembling the chair. Then I dragged him over to the kitchen sink so he could watch me preparing his meal. This whole time he's crying, by the way.
My Fair Lady walked into the kitchen concerned by the goings on and all I could do was shrug.
"He's fine," I argued. "One second he's good the next, this. I'm prepping as fast as I can."
Once his cereal was ready (two tablespoons worth of rice cereal), I slid him over to the table and used the crying to my advantage. He would rear his head back and I slipped the spoon into his mouth. He wasn't expecting that. He knocked it back and tried to cry out again. Again his mouth encountered my spoon, loaded for bear with cereal. This process went on for some time at which point it became increasingly clear that the amount was insufficient for him.
"Um... hon? How much should I feed him of this?"
"How much has he eaten?"
"About to clean his plate and he's still going strong. Thoughts?"
"Try another tablespoon and see how he does."
So I prepped another tablespoon worth of cereal. Again, he cleaned it right up. Again, he continued to fuss and cry though with slightly reduced intensity. So I made him round four which again he knocked back with ruthless efficiency. Desperate to fill the black hole that apparently my son has for a stomach, I snagged the remaining bottle of formula, slapped a nipple on the top and plugged it into his mouth.
"Snarf... snarf... snarf."
The formula began to rapidly disappear. My Fair Lady and I just watched mesmerized by how much this five month old being had consumed. But then his drinking began to taper off. With an ounce left to go in the bottle, he was finally sated. I withdrew the bottle and Max and I just stared at each other. Then, like the four year old I am, I made a farting noise with my mouth.
That cracked him up. So I did it again. He cracked up again. Oh, we had a happy baby again and yet more proof that when he cries or is fussy, feed him. This is something we seem to be reluctant to accept or comprehend for some bizarre reason. My Fair Lady, of course, snagged the video camera and captured the extent to which a dad will go to amuse his baby.
In my case, that would be 10 minutes of farting noises. I assured My Fair Lady that at no point in the future will Max ever grow out of laughing at this. We men are a simple folk.
After that it was a matter of playing with him until he went down. We've really nailed his night routine and now he's adopted a morning routine as well - which is great except on the days when we have to blow it on account of circumstances.
BUT!
Last night we put him down no sweat by 6:45 p.m. My Fair Lady nursed him, patted him, put him to sleep - nothing out of the ordinary. He wakes back up shortly after 9 p.m. at which point we feed him a 6 ounce bottle of formula (or a Baby 40 as I call it) and then he conks right back out. He wakes back up at 10 p.m. but puts himself back to sleep. He wakes up again at 11:45 p.m. and for 15 minutes coos in his bed as he tries to soothe himself back down. Ultimately he was unsuccessful so I went in, picked him up, patted him on the back for five minutes and he went out again.
He woke up again at 4:30 a.m. Almost made it through the dead of night and went over six hours between feedings. This is a win for America.
Last night we had a major rain storm in the Dallas area, so much so that minor flooding was a genuine threat. Instead of sleeping peacefully through it as I used to do, I couldn't sleep at all due to constant panic that the storms would wake Max up. Yes, I can't wait for him to sleep through the night without worries.
But baby steps is what it will take and our progress continues.
Two weeks ago we had three trees cut down in our front yard. Piles and piles of large branches were lined up behind our fence per the city's instructions on where to leave such refuse, but there was still a massive collection in our driveway. The city tagged it and moved on expecting us to call out a cherry picker, or I could take a few days and cut down the pile myself.
I chose the latter.
As I chopped and hacked and slashed my way through the better part of Saturday, My Fair Lady reorganized the garage while Max sat very patiently in his stroller. He just watched us both very pleasantly and continued to prove that he's an outdoorsman. I swear, you take this kid outside and he's golden for three or four hours solid. Such was the case yesterday up to the point where it was time to feed him cereal.
We'd been inside and done with yardwork for about an hour when My Fair Lady reminded me that he needed his cereal. So I took him into the kitchen and put him in the Swedish Chair (his high chair) and that's when the meltdown began.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
I yanked him out of the chair and he immediately stopped.
"What the hell was that?" I asked him. He just looked around. I put him back in the Swedish Chair and the result was the same. This time I finished the process of strapping him in and assembling the chair. Then I dragged him over to the kitchen sink so he could watch me preparing his meal. This whole time he's crying, by the way.
My Fair Lady walked into the kitchen concerned by the goings on and all I could do was shrug.
"He's fine," I argued. "One second he's good the next, this. I'm prepping as fast as I can."
Once his cereal was ready (two tablespoons worth of rice cereal), I slid him over to the table and used the crying to my advantage. He would rear his head back and I slipped the spoon into his mouth. He wasn't expecting that. He knocked it back and tried to cry out again. Again his mouth encountered my spoon, loaded for bear with cereal. This process went on for some time at which point it became increasingly clear that the amount was insufficient for him.
"Um... hon? How much should I feed him of this?"
"How much has he eaten?"
"About to clean his plate and he's still going strong. Thoughts?"
"Try another tablespoon and see how he does."
So I prepped another tablespoon worth of cereal. Again, he cleaned it right up. Again, he continued to fuss and cry though with slightly reduced intensity. So I made him round four which again he knocked back with ruthless efficiency. Desperate to fill the black hole that apparently my son has for a stomach, I snagged the remaining bottle of formula, slapped a nipple on the top and plugged it into his mouth.
"Snarf... snarf... snarf."
The formula began to rapidly disappear. My Fair Lady and I just watched mesmerized by how much this five month old being had consumed. But then his drinking began to taper off. With an ounce left to go in the bottle, he was finally sated. I withdrew the bottle and Max and I just stared at each other. Then, like the four year old I am, I made a farting noise with my mouth.
That cracked him up. So I did it again. He cracked up again. Oh, we had a happy baby again and yet more proof that when he cries or is fussy, feed him. This is something we seem to be reluctant to accept or comprehend for some bizarre reason. My Fair Lady, of course, snagged the video camera and captured the extent to which a dad will go to amuse his baby.
In my case, that would be 10 minutes of farting noises. I assured My Fair Lady that at no point in the future will Max ever grow out of laughing at this. We men are a simple folk.
After that it was a matter of playing with him until he went down. We've really nailed his night routine and now he's adopted a morning routine as well - which is great except on the days when we have to blow it on account of circumstances.
BUT!
Last night we put him down no sweat by 6:45 p.m. My Fair Lady nursed him, patted him, put him to sleep - nothing out of the ordinary. He wakes back up shortly after 9 p.m. at which point we feed him a 6 ounce bottle of formula (or a Baby 40 as I call it) and then he conks right back out. He wakes back up at 10 p.m. but puts himself back to sleep. He wakes up again at 11:45 p.m. and for 15 minutes coos in his bed as he tries to soothe himself back down. Ultimately he was unsuccessful so I went in, picked him up, patted him on the back for five minutes and he went out again.
He woke up again at 4:30 a.m. Almost made it through the dead of night and went over six hours between feedings. This is a win for America.
Last night we had a major rain storm in the Dallas area, so much so that minor flooding was a genuine threat. Instead of sleeping peacefully through it as I used to do, I couldn't sleep at all due to constant panic that the storms would wake Max up. Yes, I can't wait for him to sleep through the night without worries.
But baby steps is what it will take and our progress continues.
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