September 22nd, 2007


I start the day in the usual way...

Last night, the insomnia demanded two Ambien, and so this morning...this afternoon, which I see it has mind is no where near awake. Any moment now, the floor will drop out from beneath me to reveal the deepest, darkest part of the sea, and maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll realize that I'm only dreaming.

Yesterday was all proofreading, editing, and so forth, and there is nothing much there to write about. Towering waves of tedium, that's all.

Oh, but now I have iced coffee. Thank you, Spooky.

I've got to find the time and motivation to get back to the "Onion" screenplay, because not only do I have the very patient producer D waiting on it, I now also have a director of some considerable merit wanting a look at it, and here I am stuck in these endless hallways of proofing and editing. This could be the project that changes everything, and, somehow, I have spent the last few months not being able to find the bloody time to sit down and do it. I have promised myself I will return to the screenplay tomorrow night (as tomorrow day must be spent editing Tales of Pain and Wonder). Opportunity knocks, and it seems I'm too obsessed with commas to answer the frelling door.

I've been meaning to say, Spooky's done more of her mini-Cthulhu figures — the last of the bunch, I think — and you can see a photo of #3 in her Squid Soup blog, here. I adore these wee bastards. They are for sale. $40 each. Which reminds me, we need to get eBay going again (groan), because Victoria Regina (my old iBook) needs a new battery, and that's gonna set me back about $150.

Tomorrow is Mabon. I swear, this summer was half a blink, at most. The wheel turns.

Last night, Byron came for dinner and Doctor Who. We did the Vortex at L5P, and though last night's episode was very intriguing, "Blink" is a damned hard act to follow. Later, the three of us dropped by Videodrome for the director's cut of Tony Scott's True Romance. I have it on VHS, but it's frelling pan and scan, and Byron has it on DVD, but can't find it. And we'd started reciting lines during dinner, so how else were we supposed to spend the last two hours of Friday night? After Byron headed for home, Spooky and I did just a dab of Second Life, because New Babbage grew by one-third its total size yesterday with the arrival of the Port Babbage sim. Right now, it's a flat expanse of rock and drying seaweed, crisscrossed by freshly lain railroad. Soon it will the bustling commercial heart of the city. I think we were in bed by 1:30 a.m., and Spooky read another two chapters of Dune aloud. And then I proceeded not to be able to fall asleep.

Today, we're going to take a break from editing long enough to clean house, because some times these things simply have to be done — so grab a broom, Mr. Platypus...