My wife has a job. She's employed. Not only that, but she's living in that most blissful of hours: hired, but not yet working. The job-hunt pressure is off, as is the work-day pressure... for the moment, anyway.

She's been hired as a server at a country club here in Long Beach. So, at the very least, we can now pay most of our bills. It's called Virginia Country Club and, thankfully, it pays full health benefits. So cheers to Carey Bear for coming through for the family! Hip hip hurrah!
...

What else... ah, yes. Check out the latest script, if you can stomach it. Sporting a stylish title from none other than Dave & Renee Reinke of Worthington, Ohio... I give you: The Trouble with Sleeves. (I'd wanted to do something along the lines of an earlier script, Diff'rent Drunks, for awhile [i.e. something lawsuit-worthy], so there you go.) Thanks, Dave & Renee. Next time we're in town, the Coronas are on me.
...

Yesterday, Carey and I purchased California car insurance. Let me assure you: she ain't cheap. Back in ol' Ohio, I had several speeding tickets on my record and we were fully covered. These days, I've only got one lingering ticket, which will be off my record come April and we're shivering down in Minimum Coverage Land. And, would you believe it, it's still far more expensive, just because it's California. How does this happen? Was there some sort of state-wide town meeting 50 years ago?

CITY COUNCILMAN: Gentleman, let's make tonight's proceedings short and sweet. I've got an early tee time in the morning. Madame Secretary, the first item on the agenda?

MADAME SECRETARY: Yes, sir, Item One: Legislation to make everything in the great state of California more expensive than anywhere else.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Ah, yes. Are we all familiar with this bill? Can we go ahead and vote?

MAYOR WHOEVER: Eh, if I may have some clarification, Council... we're proposing to inflate the price of everything in California. Insurance, living expenses, property, rent, groceries, clothing... everything. Is that correct?

CITY COUNCILMAN: That is correct, Mayor.

MAYOR WHOEVER: And for what purpose?

CITY COUNCILMAN: Welllllll... I don't know. Because we can, I suppose.

MAYOR WHOEVER: Okay. Just wondered. Continue.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Very well. All in favor?

EVERYONE: Aye.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Opposed?

EVERYONE: ...

CITY COUNCILMAN: Vote's unanimous, bill is passed. Madame Secretary, next order of business?

MADAME SECRETARY: Yes, sir, Item Two: Legislation proposed to allow all California mailmen to behave as abusively as they see fit...

Ah, who knows. Back to insurance, though: we are a bit nervous about this minimum coverage business. Wrecks happen all the time around here. In the past month (and, sadly, this is no exaggeration) two major collisions have happened right outside my window. (Both of them while I was typing Blogger entries, oddly enough...) I'm talking hardcore, grisly accidents... bits of hair and blood in the windshield and all that... ick.

I think it's because the streets here in Long Beach were devised by some sort of psychotic booby-house refugee or perhaps an orangutan. It's I-M-P-O-S-S-I-B-L-E to make any sort of right or left turn with any level of certainty here. All parking is on the street and most streets are one-way and there simply is no such thing as a Point-Of-Vision, so even right turns out onto any kind of major road are, by necessity, accompanied by a string of Hail Marys. You just never know. It's a numbers game, frankly, and one of these days our number will come up.

And, yet, we only have minimum coverage. Sweet Lord, protect us.
...

Working on a whole bunch of websites and other arty little doodaws, so hopefully I'll have a slew of fun things to post in the portfolio section soon. Oh, and I'm still working on that screenplay. I'm really stuck on this one scene right now, though, and it's making me crazy. I'm seriously considering a reevaluation of a couple of major plot points right now because even I'M getting bored with a few of these scenes... when your own script bores you, that's probably not a good sign.
...

A very happy birthday to one of my favorite sisters in the whole world, Erin Bear Burtoft. Today (whoops... look at the time... I guess it's yesterday at this point) is her 25th. You never forget your silver. Speaking of forgetting, though, I forgot to call. I'll make a point of dropping a line tomorrow. Jeez, I'm such a prick. Sorry, Erin. You know I love you, baby, but I'm way too self-centered to behave like a decent human being. At any rate, hope 25 is the best year yet. XOXOXOXO

And, speaking of birthdays, my wife has unsubtley let me know that, indeed, her's is coming up in less than a month (Oct. 20, as it happens), and she does have a wish-list on amazon.com. For those interested, said wish list can be found here. Let the shopping frenzy begin.
...

I'm off to bed.

Right now, it's late. I'm tired. I'm terribly behind on artwork that's due tomorrow. The place I'd like most to be is in bed beside my bride, but for some reason I've been struck by the notion that typing aimlessly into the blogger would be far more rewarding than much-needed sleep.

Let's see, what to talk about... I'd really like to discuss books I've been reading, but that usually comes off as snobbish and elitist, so I'll abstain. Ooh, I had a couple stories to tell, didn't I? I'll try that.

Saturday, Carey and I tried out Open Sesame, a little Mediteranean restaurant down in Belmont Shore. The food was rather good, but there's something about Mediteranean food that, while always enjoyable, makes me want to abstain from it for a good couple of months after partaking. Anyhow, the experience was terribly mediocre... not the cuisine, mind you, but the service. Everything was a mind-numbing wait and, at one point, Carey had to resign herself to simply not getting a drink refill, even after asking the waitress 3 times. No biggie, not enough to ruin our evening, but I'll have to admit that I was rather annoyed and, in the end, I left a lousy tip (somewhere in the 9 or 10% range). I know, I know... what a jerk. Carey was not happy about the gratuity pittance and we had a mild argument about tipping. Her contention was that it's part of Mediteranean culture to not rush and to sort of do things when you get around to them... therefore, they shouldn't be penalized for it. Fair enough, but while we're talking culture... mine says that hard work should be rewarded. And, besides, when I waited tables back in college I recall being stiffed at least once a shift (something I would never do, no matter how terrible the service), so it does go to show that there are indeed much ruder hosers than myself roaming about.

Anyhow, we'd parked on a residential street about a block away and we reached the car just as our argument reached its bitter climax. We never got to finish, though, because behind us there was a fantastic crash and some sort of inhuman screeching. We turned around to see the apartment facing our car.

And a cat fell out of the window.

The cat screamed, hit the concrete from its 2nd story drop, and bolted south to parts unknown. Behind it, a dog crashed right through the screen and would have fallen out himself if his owner hadn't yanked him back inside. Soon, a human head popped out the window, looking frantic. I offered up:

"Sir? Your cat just fell out the window."

"HE DID??? Did you see which way he went?!"

"Yeah, he ran that way."

"Oh, God. Thanks."

The man shot out of there, helter skelter, calling out "Scooter!" and it soon became apparent that there was some sort of altercation with the dog that had ended poorly. The cat was long gone.

To make a long story somewhat less long, Carey and I found ourselves combing the streets with this poor guy and his wife for the next 2 hours. Scooter, fat and gray, was nowhere to be found. We walked as far down as the ocean, thought we caught glimpses, asked strangers for help, peered under cars, overturned alley boxes... all for this frenzied feline. The woman was hysterical. Apparently, Scooter was a house cat and had never in his three years of cathood been outside. Carey hugged her and assured her that it would all be all right and, spit spot, we'd find ol' Scoot soon enough.

The sun went, down however, and we were eventually forced to tell them that we might have to call it a night. "We'll come back tomorrow and look in the daylight with you," we assured them. They thanked us many times over and we eventually returned home and went to bed, feeling a bit guilty for not sticking it out. They'd told us their plans however: they were going to post fliers all around Belmont Shore and SouthWestern Long Beach, hoping for the best. We told them that was a great idea and, who knows, sometimes a scared cat will eventually wander back home.

The next day, we returned in the afternoon. To our delight, Scooter had indeed wandered back at around 3:00 in the morning and his owners couldn't have been happier. They were terribly grateful for our efforts as well and they insisted on having us over for dinner someday soon, possibly even this coming weekend.

So, that's that. We may have made some new friends and the aptly named Scooter is back safe and sound. Funny how things work out.
...

And now I truly am tired. Off to bed with me. I still have to get around to talking about good old Gene Toth, but I suppose that'll have to wait.

Sweet dreams.

Few quick notes and then I must allow the wife a turn on the computer...

First, thanks to Ben Bays of Burbank, CA for the latest script title. A little ditty he likes to call: Richard Deakins Comes to Town. Judge as you will.

Second, I've felt guilty for the past couple of months (ever since that mega-post about our drive to California, actually) about the fact that I've kept every blogger entry I've made so far on one, single, NOSE-BLEED-INDUCING PAGE. The scroll-bar has begun to cascade into the infinite and that's no good. So, if you'll cast your eyes to the upper-right corner of the page, you'll notice an Archive Link, which sorts all of my posts by week. The main blogger page, from here on out, will only show the 10 most recent posts. For anything earlier, refer to the archive. Much more manageable.

Third, Carey and I had a very eventful weekend (jeez, is it Wednesday already?) and much of it is indeed Blog-worthy, but I must dash for the moment. Remind me to tell the story of lazy Mediteranean waitresses, an angelic fellow by the name of Gene Toth, and the madcap antics of a cat named Scooter. Confused? Don't be. Answers and stories soon to come!

Anon!

What th--? Did someone change the wallpaper in here?

Oh, yes, it's true. An all new design for the ol' website. Speaking candidly, I'm not completely thrilled with it yet, but I've nonetheless decided that it's due for a change. I never really looked at the old design as something permanent anyhow. I've a lot of tweaking yet to do on it, but I gave myself the challenge of completely redesigning, coding, updating, and uploading a new site in the course of one weekend. Mission accomplished, but now I desperately need some sleep.

Also, a couple of new additions to the homepage. "What's New" is just an excuse to keep my portfolio up to date. "Recommended Reading" is something I've always wanted to have on my very own website... a little nook to discuss whatever's on my nightstand at the moment or get the word out about authors and creators that I feel are overlooked. As you can see, my first "book of the week" (or month... or year, depending on my laziness) is Gaiman's 'American Gods.' Read it. It's worth your time.

Annnnndddd..... I've devised a way for people to just fill in the blank and clickety-click send me their title suggestions. I know, it's a bit awkward at the moment... but, hey, I only had a weekend, you know? I will work out all the bugs of this new design in due time. Honest.

Anyhow... opinions?

First off, berry big thankee to Jon Schweitzer of Morrisville, NC for his script title suggestion: I Never Did Begrudge Jorge. (By the by, a note from Jon regarding his title: "Make sure you pronounce that dang name correctly in your head when you read it. WHORE-HAY." Your wish is our mandate, Jon... Whore-hay it is.) Click and enjoy!
...

Recently, I've gotten the itch to redesign this website. It works well enough for my purposes, I suppose, but it's far from the handsomest of compositions and, admittedly, I threw it together simply to say I have my own website. I dunno. Anything for a change, I guess.
...

Let's see... Carey may well have found a job. She was informally told by a local country club yesterday that they'd like to hire her. It's a server position which may not seem thrilling, but they offer full benefits... which is VERY thrilling to us, seeing as how the insurance issue has been one of our big stressers of late. If this works out, she'll begin later this month. We're not uncorking any champagne yet, but it would be nice to have some sort of income beyond my drawin' pitchers and ritin' stories.

And speaking of ritin' stories, spent a very enjoyable day with Ben Bays on Saturday and durn it if we aren't talking seriously about doing another movie together. (Ben directed and produced a feature-length indy over the course of the past couple years. Unfortunately, the title is Blind Justice. I wrote it in college. It stars Hollywood legends James Leagre and Mark Soto.) Ben's itching to do something small set in the American midwest on a shoestring budget with a good script and good actors. We spent the day throwing ideas back and forth and, the more we talked, the more intriguing an X-Files-ish feature became. Who knows. As long as there's a character in it named Jorge, I'm on board.
...

Calliope, our cat, is sick. Technically, she's still a kitten. We've tried all manner of drugs... and she acts as healthy as a... as a... healthy...cat... but, we're consistently finding blood in the litter box and THAT'S no good. We're not sure what to think. Hopefully our vet (Dr. Sakamoto) will come up with something soon. Something cheap, preferably.

Script-mania around here. Special thanks to Allison Dabbs of Marietta, Georgia (still coming through in the clutch after all these years) for suggesting the latest title: Industrial Gunk.

More titles! Anyone! Don't be bashful.

Something that's always bothered me deeply, but I've always felt like a flake for letting it get to me: watching a movie in a movie theater and, just as the final scene is wrapping up and you begin to hear the credits music swell... half the friggin' theater has gotten up to leave. By the time the first credit appears on the screen, everyone's standing up, blocking the view, noisily talking to one another... trying to "beat the crowd" out to the parking lot, as if it were the friggin' Rose Bowl or something. I've been to so many movies where the ending has been totally ruined for me because 50 losers feel the need to break their necks to make sure that they're out the door before they're forced to read the words DIRECTED BY ______... thus distracting from the rhythm and emotion of a good ending. All too many times, also, a "fake ending" before the actual ending will fool the crowd and, sure as eggs is eggs, a herd of morons will begin to stand up and mill toward the door, loudly exclaiming "oops, I guess it ain't over yet! Sit back down, Myrtle!"

Why the break-neck rush to get out of the theater? I imagine it has something to do with our 1.5-second-attention-span culture. Remote control in hand, poised and ready to flip-flip-flip as soon as the NCAA playoffs breaks for a commercial. Don't waste a single precious second of your life sitting there listening to the music, appreciative of the months and often years of hard work that went into producing the film you just saw. I know, I know... "I showed them my appreciation when I handed them my 8 bucks!" Yeah, yeah, okay, you got me there.

But, speaking of sports and leaving early, that's something else I've never understood. Sports events are usually even more pricey than movies... yet, all too often, the bulk of the crowd will take off in the middle of the 7th inning or in the middle of the 4th quarter if one team has a substantial lead... WHY? Is it really to avoid traffic? How could it be when EVERYONE else is doing the same thing? Is the only reason you went to the game in the first place to find out who would win? 50 cents will get you a newspaper for that information, buddy. Save yourself the 90 clams. ...The point of going to the game is to watch the game. Who knows what could happen? And even if nothing exciting happens, is it sweeter to get a jump start on waiting in your car for the next hour? The whole philosophy of "leave early when you've got the gist" grates on me.

But, back to my original point: leaving the movie right before the credits begin to roll. I've been utterly delighted to discover that, here in Southern California, audiences stay put right on through the credits. Yahoo! Maybe it's because movies are made in this town and everyone knows someone whose name is about to scroll by. Maybe people here aren't in as much of a rush. Maybe they have more of a sense of what goes into producing a film or have a higher respect for the artform and would like to experience it in its entirety. Either way, I like the credits too. Usually, I don't sit through ALL of them, but I often will if the people I'm with don't mind.

Anyhow, that's all. Just wanted to say thanks, California, for respecting the credits and consequently satisfying my psychosis.

If you don't read this Blog, the terrorists win.

Not really. It's about 2:00 in the morning as I type this and I can't help but feel a bit over-saturated by the 9-11 media onslaught that's taken place over the course of the past 36 hours. Much of it is very moving and I really wasn't being insincere about yesterday's entry... but, I've topped out with this whole Anniversary of the Tragedy and I truly hope we can do our best to resume our lives, as a nation.

Crap, how shallow am I?

At any rate, I do get bothered by some of the shameless advertising, cashing in on the tragedy. "Keep America Rolling! Don't let Bin Laden and his evil henchmen keep you from heading on down to pick up a new Ford F150!" It's calmed down a great deal, but it still pisses me off. It reminds me of the old WW2 propaganda posters...

- Conserve energy or the Axis wins!
- Every time you don't use a condom, you're putting out for Hitler!
- Mussolini says: "Thanks for NOT buying war bonds!"
- Only Nazis refuse to carpool!
- Prevent another attack on Pearl Harbor... by lighting up a smooth Camel cigarette, soldier! Ten-hut!
- Not registering for the draft is like letting all of Japan rape your wife! Protect her honor... and yours!

Don't mind me. Doubtless I'll wake up tomorrow morning and feel terrible about my cynicism.

In the meantime, I'd like to say a very special Thank You to Gary Underwood of Akron, Ohio. Gary faithfully fulfilled his duty to Keep America Rolling by sending in a few title suggestions for the JeremyBear.com scripts page. You're one in a million, Gar. So, title by Gary, script by me, here it is: Remember the Dew.

And it's just that simple. Like Gary, you too can acheive literary immortality. Send your title suggestion for a Jeremy Bear script to: art@jeremybear.com.

Thanks, and goodnight.

In several hours, it'll be September 11, 2002. I wish I had something significant to say, but I don't. I suppose I could describe how I felt or where I was when I heard or how much I prayed or... something. But, I'd rather not. And there's nothing left to say that hasn't been said thousands of times over by those far more eloquent, who've lost and sacrificed far more.

Instead, as we hover in a state of national alert... mildly expectant of something that most of us know in our hearts will not happen... I find myself browsing several articles and inspirational poems and flash animations and short stories and paintings and drawings that were made in honor and outrage of that dreadful day. Some are hopeful, some heartbreaking. Some profound, some naive. Some beautiful, terrible, ridiculous, damning, inspiring, insulting... some are even hilarious. Some manage to be all of these. Or maybe none of these.

But, of everything I've read regarding the events of 9-11, a poem by British author Alan Moore has affected me the most. Rather than fumble about any longer, I'll post his words here. God Bless.

The other building falls.

I see a tower of dust, first outpost of Dust's empire, boiling up to take its place. Around me in the cough and the stumble, personal alarms are going off, an awful morning chorus.

Up ahead, through smoke, hauling somebody from the wreckage there's a fireman, but not one of ours. Wrong uniform. That big brass hat, that accent. "I'm all right, mate. There'll be blighters needin' worse 'elp, further on."

He's right. Beyond his rubble of red brick are fragments of a Baghdad mosque, the debris of a Japanese pavilion, smoldering Dresden embers. Voices, shouting through the choking pall in English, German, Arabic and Spanish.

I call out "Where are we?" and a woman turns towards me from the fog and smiling past her tears she says "We are in Guernica", and in my heart I know that this is true.

Guernica, where the sky fell first, this landscape black and gray with dust. Terrified horses and the wail of mothers. From the settling billows they step out to gather round me, to embrace me, kiss my brow and murmur soothing words. "Don't cry, my friend. Don't cry. We're all together now."


"Now we are all in Guernica."

- Alan Moore, 2001

It's been 10 forevers since I've thrown another script on the grill and served 'er up hot. Sorry. Here's a mediocre treat for those who've been waiting: Erin Goes Braughhh.

A few people have asked me what the story is with the scripts I've posted on my scripts page. No, they're not full-length plays or movie scripts or anything inspirational. They're just little one-pagers I started writing every so often about a year ago to amuse myself and to keep my writing muscles limber. They have *no significance whatsoever*. I'm not trying to sell any of them. I'm not copyrighting any of them. I really don't even mind if people steal them and claim them as their own (on the contrary, I'd probably be a little flattered). They're not really a representation of me or my serious work or any of that, either. It just tickles me to do them.

"But what's the point?"

Uh. Well, I don't know. I think I was originally inspired by Sam Brown (of www.explodingdog.com... people email him words or phrases and he does a 10-minute stick-figure drawing based on the "titles" people send in... while simple and child-like, there's something mesmerizing about his little pictures and how he approaches each entry) and Scott McCloud (comic book scribe and theorist... author of the most intelligent discussion of the comics medium that's ever gone to press: Understanding Comics - buy it, especially if you have little interest in comics. You'll never look at Archie & Jughead the same again. But, I digress... McCloud also has a website in which his fans send in possible "titles" for comic strips and he'll choose the ones he likes best and draw a comic strip around the title suggestion. Since he works on it every day, he calls it "The Morning Improv").

Anyhow, I thought, well... if these guys can do it with stick-figures and comic strips... why can't I do it with scripts? I had the idea of having friends and family and acquaintances sending me possible titles for these surreal little oddments and I'd then write little 1-minute scripts around the title and post them somewhere. Since I don't exactly have what some might consider a clamoring audience, though, I've had to come up with all of the titles myself... and that's how it works, usually: a phrase or title will pop into my brain and I'll write a script around it. No pre-planning or plotting.

But, I suppose... for those who would like to suggest possible titles... send them in! You could be the proud parent of a Jeremy Bear original! My only request is that the titles be kept short and fairly abstract, if you're interested. Sometimes I try to make it a double-entendre or some other vain attempt at cleverness, but it's not a prerequisite. So, be a good lad or lass and kick those titles on over to art@jeremybear.com. You'll receive full credit next to your title if I use it, so don't worry about that.

Creative collaboration is most fun when it’s totally pointless, that’s what I always say.

Welcome to the JeremyBear.com Mailbox!

Here's a little something new and special just for you, faithful one. At JeremyBear.com, we try to attend to the whimsy of our readers/viewers, so we'll periodically post fan mail (or even hate mail from time to time) and answer your questions as best we know how! Because you demanded it! Here we go!

Jon Schweitzer of Morrisville, NC writes:

...I'm taking a few courses at NCState so I can get my dang pedigree. It'll probably take a couple years, but I just want to get that thing over and done with. Get this, the two courses I'm taking are both online courses, and one of them is Golf. That's right, I'm taking an online Golf course through the University, and I don't know what the world is coming to...

...I incessantly check your blog -- it's an addiction on both ends. Know that if you misrepresent the words of Schwyzen, tragedy shall befall the theatre of your life...

Thanks, Jon, for the update. For those who don't know, Jon has been a dear friend since high-school and he even agreed to be my Best Man a couple years back. He and his wife, April, are pig farmers near Raleigh and Jon recently underwent a complicated plastic surgery procedure to have an unsightly, wine-colored birthmark removed from his right thigh. Although the abnormality was THE SPITTING IMAGE OF THE VIRGIN MARY, he decided that, all the same, he'd rather have done with it, much to the chagrin of several Catholics in his community. Get well soon, Jon!

Stuart Gilchrist of Pink Falls, TN writes:

...your dumb.
i tiped in this web adress and swa this stupid web site.
why do you think your so cool your not cool, your conceited.
nobodey cares about blogger and the scripts make no since.
thanks for makeing me laugh at your crapy art.......... it sux!!!!!
hahaha bye loser...

And goodbye to you, Stu! While your complaints were rather stringent, I have to confess I see your point. From here on out, I shall purpose to up the quality of the art and produce scripts that are more accessible to the layman. Thanks for the concern.

At JeremyBear.com, we strive to appeal to even the lowest common denominator. Apparently, we've failed dismally. Onward!

Cheryl Gunderson of Boise, ID writes:

...Love the website. Nothing turns me on like a talented guy with an online journal. Ever since I found your work through a search engine, you've been on my mind. Are you as cute in person as you sound? And when do you think you'll be in Boise next, stud-monkey? Let me know...

PS: What do you look like? Is it anything like the charicature on your homepage?

Ho, ho, ho! Easy there, chiquita! This hombre's married! I appreciate the compliments, but I only have eyes for one woman and that's my dear wife Carey.

Since you asked, however: I'm just shy of 6'1", blue eyes, bleached hair. My wardrobe is awkward and dated and my midsection is more than a little paunchy. I have what some might call an attempt at a beard. I have a nice "radio voice" and I've also been told that I have a "radio face." I guess you can't win them all.

Steven Spielberg of Bel Air, CA writes:

...Is this Jeremy Bear of Long Beach, California? Jeremy, while I'm sure your work may well be very stirring, I don't have any use for unsolicited screenplays. If you have an agent and he/she would like to arrange a meeting with a member of my production company's staff, he/she can do so care of:

Dreamworks, Skg
100 Universal City Plz
Universal City, CA 91608

I'd also like to point out that having pizzas delivered to my home with script samples taped to the inside of the pizza box is not only futile, but wholly inappropriate. And, we do have caller ID on our telephones... we know it's you and my wife is extremely unnerved by the frequent "hang-ups" and heavy breathing. For the last time: no, you may not babysit my children, no you may not "hang out" on the set, no you may not sleep on my lawn and NO you may NOT continue to rifle through our garbage. Enough is enough. I've contacted not only the police, but also a lawyer. This is your last warning.

Loud and clear, Steve! Thanks for the note! By the way, Minority Report was an absolute thrill ride! Keep up the fine work.

*****

Well, that's all the time we have for this edition of the JeremyBear.com mailbox. Keep those letters comin'.

When I was 10 years old, my family picked up and moved from Ohio to Georgia. It was a mild culture shock. I remember being slightly tickled at the way Georgians handled snow. Anytime snow fell from the sky to the tune of even a 1/4 inch, the entire state was thrown into chaos and turmoil. Schools closed, banks closed, people would begin to cart canned goods down into their cellars and invested in kerosene generators. TV preachers prayed for mercy and protection from this white, powdery onslaught. Grocery stores would empty out their shelves within hours. Dads would don their long underwear and thick flannels, peep out the window, and announce, "yup. She's a blizzard all right." Blizzard? BLIZZARD?! I'm from Ohio, man, and that's no blizzard... that's barely a fart.

When I was 26, my wife and I moved to Long Beach, California. And today, in Los Angeles County, it began to rain. Not even rain, really... it drizzled. It's about time, too, because it hasn't rained since we moved in and I was beginning to wonder if the weather was completely out of whack or if we were experiencing some sort of drought. But, the fact is IT JUST DOESN'T RAIN HERE. Carey flipped on the local news to find the top story: "Rain in LA". People are losing it. It's pandemonium. It just doesn't happen around here. A woman complained on-camera, "I guess it's a nice change of pace, but, oh God, I want my dry weather back! I miss it!" Oy vey. Are you kidding me with this? It's rain, sister! Splash around a bit, you'll like it!
...

Still keeping ourselves alive on the freelance tip. A few websites have blown my way and the odd print design job here and there. I ended up not taking the art director gig offered to me by Western Badge and Trophy, but I have to say that Luis Padilla and his crew are some of the warmest folks I've met and I'm looking forward to doing some digital design work for them on a freelance basis. They produce badges, magnets, and other oddments in the way of promotional materials for clients like Disney, Universal Studios, and on down the line and they manage to always get it right the first time. Best of luck, Luis, and thanks for your consideration.
...

Met a delightful bloke on Monday by the name of Josh Rous. Josh is a film student from South Africa who's produced a couple of shorts and it was great to talk film with him. He made the mistake of asking what my latest screenplay is about, however, and I ended up abusing his attention span to no end with the lurid details of my latest opus. I don't think he minded much, however, and he had some very interesting ideas of his own. While I haven't seen his work, his ethic was infectious and I imagine I'll go out of my way to check out his stuff. Cheers, Josh, here's hoping you hit it big. If you're ever strapped for a screenplay, you know who to call.
...

Sadly, I spoke too soon about our DVD repair problems being over and the machine seems to be fritzed for good. Same problems, but popping the hood and manually spinning the disc doesn't seem to cut the mustard anymore. I'll need to bring it in for repairs, alas. It's the little things, really, that really chap my rump.
...

That's it for now. I'm tired and I've more yet to do before I sleep.

Back by popular demand! Blog it! BLOG IT!

It's been far too long since I've pushed out an update and for that I'm truly sorry. It's been difficult, of late, to find a spare moment to keep my dear journal in the know, but the time has not been ill-spent. I've been purposely neglecting to mention any specific job news, because, well... who knows who might be logging on... but, suffice it to say that the past week has been very encouraging on several levels, in terms of steady work and/or gainful employment. And that's for both Carey and myself. We're not out of the woods, but we've begun to notice the sun peeking through the branches.

And: (yet another reason for the delay in blogging) this is the first blog that I type from my brand new Dell. ***Alert... feel free to skip the rest of this paragraph. It's terribly boring and your opinion of me will no doubt be lessened by the end of it.*** 80 GB of memory, 512 MB of RAM, CD writer, USB ports... the whole 9. My big dillemma was in finding a way to transfer all my old files onto the new computer. Then, like Saul on Damascus Road, it struck me: take out the old hard drive and install it in the new computer as an auxilliary hard drive. Huzzah! This way, I can access any old file I want and have a little extra space besides. Brilliant. BRILLIANT! I can honestly say that this is easily the lovliest machine I've ever used, this fine little Dell. I should write them a nice thank you. (Or at least mail in my payments).

There's a long, frustrating, and somewhat comical story about how the computer was finally delivered... ending in a face-to-face confrontation with our abusive mail-carrier (who's name, by the by, is Darryl). Maybe I'll tell it one day if I'm ultra-bored or nostalgic. Needless to say, though, the file is still open on The Case of the Mangling Mailman.

So, last weekend Carey and I decided that we're sick to death of being destitute. Though we've little more than pennies to rub together, it'd been far too long since we'd gone out like real people and spent money we don't have (also like real people). "Right," we said, "screw it. It's been over 3 months since we've gone out to dinner and a movie. We're doing it. It's something that human beings do and, broke or not, we're human beings." We ended up going to a wonderful sushi place and had what I think we agreed was the best sushi either of us has ever sampled to date. It'd been far too long since I'd partaken, and... well, I can't recommend it enough (sadly, I can't recommend it at all because the name escapes me). Afterward, we bopped on over to the local cinema and saw the latest M. Night Shyamalan masterpiece, Signs. Excellent film. Highly recommended. Carey went so far as to put it up with her personal top 10. While I'm not sure that Shyamalan outdoes his other features with this one, it certainly shouldn't be missed.

Most importantly, though, I walked away remembering exactly what it was that I love about film. It's a wonderful thing when that happens. There's been a story rolling around in my head for... well, for about 4-1/2 years now. I decided it's time to write it down. It's a story that's been quietly asking to be told over and over, so I'm finally putting it out of its misery. So far, the working title is Lurid.

What if someone took away everything that's important to you?

What if someone took away everything you love?

What if someone left you with nothing?

What if you found yourself in a position
where you could do anything you wanted to this person
without fear of consequence?

What would you do?

Needless to say, I'm very excited. It should be an intriguing tale.

Let's see... what else. OH, yes. This weekend, Carey and I were visited by two terrific friends of ours from Columbus: Scott and Emily Sutton. Scott and I went to high school together, but we never managed to hit it off until about 9 months ago and in that time he and his wife have endeared themselves to us as some of the finest friends we've got. It was terribly hard to leave them when we moved out here and it was a fresh breath of familiar air when they arrived at our door yesterday afternoon and spent the day and evening with us (the Suttons are vacationing in San Diego and surrounding parts for their 1-year anniversary). Hhh... I do miss home.

It's a been a good week, really: new computer. Promising job prospects. Freelance opportunities still springing up. The birth of a new screenplay. A visit from the Suttons. Oh, and this afternoon I took it upon myself to fix our DVD player. (It hasn't been working for the past 2 months) It was easy, in fact: I just popped the top off and spun the disk around by hand a couple of times and now it seems to be right as rain (by the way, don't try this at home... I think I somehow got lucky). All in all, several issues have sort of been fixing themselves. The entropy pendullum appears to have started to swing the other way. I do hope it lasts.