left column have so many pretty monkeys. so many. ugly grumpy sweet monkeys. and bikini no-girls. sweet girl-monkeys love left column. stee say stupid monkey stee-journal moving really really soon. like 2 days soon or less... what that mean? candy? monkey? love candy? monkey monkey? hope left column have place at new monkey stee-site. hope so...




almost gone

Oh man.

This weekend was a blur, a blur which has bled over onto this glorious Monday.

Part of the thing is that I quit smoking on Sunday. A friend and I made the pact 6 months ago to do it on his birthday, so Saturday night he had a party and we smoked and smoked and then I went home and had drinks with my neighbor and we smoked and then I went home and smoked and finally went to bed.

I’m doing OK right now, but in the 36 hours since, I’ve had a few trying moments:

After eating
Driving
Drinking
Watching Barbra Steisand during the Golden Globes last night
Today during my "smoke break"

I also couldn’t really fall asleep last night. Grrrrrrrr.

So for that reason I’m feeling a little nuts. Another reason is that I’m starting another dreaded casting director workshop tonight. After my last debacle I really really didn’t want to go, but after some convincing, I’m going. Practically the only thing that made the last one bearable was getting to take a break and have a smoke. D’oh!

Another reason for my loopiness is that I’m currently moving this site to its own domain. Goddamn this is a motherfucker of a task. Well, it wouldn’t be as bad had I employed a good structure from the beginning. So now I’m paying. We should be good to go on Wednesday. Exciting, huh? (More server space means I get to steal as many stupid photos as I want to and post them. Hell, we might even bring back the Who Dat? Game.)

Yet another reason is the fact that my friend since we were 3, Derek, just called me with the news that his wife had her baby. It’s a boy named… Skylar (no kidding).

Me and this cat walked to nursery school together, and now he has a kid.

Meanwhile, I have plants. None of which are doing too well right now…

One final reason is the fact that I have a whole bunch of writing things piling on top of each other. Basically, on the 3 screenplay front we have…

NICHOL SCRIPT: The lawyer is taking his sweet fucking time with my contract for the deal with the Shark. It’s the old HMO-patient problem. I’m small potatoes, therefore I get put off. Plus, when he does look at the contract, I’m still going to have to negotiate the damn thing. Plus, the Shark is getting restless. (Da-dum.)

From there: The Big Rewrite.

ACTION SCRIPT: Todd and I are done with the 3rd draft and are crazily throwing together a reading for this coming weekend. Horrified, I read it and discovered we had about 85 characters to cast. I spent the weekend trying to see how many actors could read how many different characters with no overlap, etc, etc, and trying to make it pretty even so everyone has at least some good stuff to read. Now I’m trying to copy 14 scripts here at work. (shhh…) Then we have to highlight each script plus decide what exactly of the stage-directions/narration/action we want read. Then deliver the scripts to the actors. Then buy beer and wine and set up chairs on Saturday night. (We’re doing it at a theatre in the valley.) Then sit back and listen. After all the work, it should be exciting.

From there: The (hopefully) Small Rewrite.
The Send-Out.
???

COMEDY SCRIPT: This thing is pretty much at the same place as the above. Except I wrote it alone, taking only 6 months as opposed to over a year. Last night, finally, I let another human being read it. M.

And though her opinion is seemingly suspect, I trust her opinion more than almost anyone else. (In the past she has read things and said, "I don’t get it.")

Well she loved it. Really loved it. And it’s not at all her thing, and she gets it all. And this was very good to hear. I’m pretty secretive when I’m writing something, and though I’d told a couple people the really really broad-strokes, no one had read a word. So it’s nice to have someone enter the world you’ve inhabited solitarily for so long… and get it. (Kind of like love, huh?)

From there: Haven’t decided yet, other than to also get Frank’s (sometimes writing partner, directing partner, good friend) feedback.

So with my nuttiness today, I’m going to take my nic-fit-having ass and go home. I guess I’ll buy a pack of gum.

Gum. Wow. How fucking refreshing.


The Larry King Happy Song Corner

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East of the sun and west of the moon. We'll build a dream house of love, dear. Near to the sun in the day. Near to the moon at night. We'll live in a lovely way, dear, living on love and the pale moonlight. Just you and I, forever and a day. Love will not die, we'll keep it that way. Up among the stars we'll find a harmony of life to a lovely tune. East of the sun and west of the moon, dear. East of the sun and west of the moon… speaking of which. I used to live in a little railroad flat East of Jane street, and West of Eighth. Boy that was a little dump. This was back in the 40’s, and few of you know this, but I was quite the "beatnik" back in the day. Yessiree Bob. Me and friends would go to my "pad" and smoke "tea" and drink "cheap red wine" and "spin some discs" like "Monk" and "Bird". Hearing the "gone cats" "blowing on their axes" used to "make me flip" until I’d "bop and dance around the pad" and try to take one those "lovely chicks" to "bed." Those were the "days"!


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