A Quick Quote

The following actually comes from that silly Anita Blake book I'm reading. I like it because it sums up how I feel about my ex, and is an answer to those people who throw 'you don't love him or you wouldn't have left him' bullshit at me.

"There comes a point where you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just means you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it."

She has sex with a vampire and a were-leopard shortly after this, but you get my point.

Ding Ding Ding Went the Trolley!

Well, my first thought was to blog about friendship, disillusionment and betrayal. Y'know, when a supposed friend flakes out on you when you need her the most, even when she told you that she understood what you were going through and needed to be there more for you. When you ask her to write regularly because you're lonely and miss your friends, and she doesn't. and then, when you tell her that you're hurt and disappointed that she didn't write or call when you asked her to, she tells you it's because you're a toxic, angry woman, a ranter and raver, a child that needs to grow up, dysfunctional, a drama queen, self-abusive and starving for adoration. Oh, but she respects your pain and would never want you to think that she's negating it. Oh yeah, but you also have a non-functional worldview, that all you have to do is grow up and stop being a drama queen, and she can't see an external reason for you to be THAT unhappy, this can't be the worst year of your life because it just isn't true to HER. And by the way, you've changed her life for the better, filled her world with beauty, companionship, wisdom and courage And when she looks at you, she sees the most beautiful, wise, talented, driven, passionate woman she knows. You're an inspiration to her.

But then I decided, toxic and abusive woman that I might be (not!) that I've given enough time and thought to this person who lived in my house when she was new in town, and then again when she couldn't afford her rent. I further damaged my relationship with Brian by pushing this issue; he didn't want a roommate. And yet she couldn't stay in contact with me and help me through a rough transition because she wasn't 'comfortable' with my anger. She equates anger with violence, y'see, eschews anything dark. Life is covered with fairy dust and glitter. Her 'worldview' does not accept the fact that anger is not always toxic, but to repress it certainly leads to toxicity. And she also doesn't seem to get that it's how you handle justified anger that differentiates between expressing honest emotions and...er...well, ranting and raving and spewing out toxic venom. The words 'I am hurt and angry that you weren't there for me,' uttered in very non-confrontational tones, were 'dumping on her.' She felt abused. She was...uncomfortable.

I think my friend T.C. put it best when he said that comfort is a fleeting thing, but a good friendship lasts a lifetime. Bad choice on her part.

But I'm not gonna write about that, other than to apologize to all of my friends and family who've experienced the wrath of Toxic Dana, the Immature Drama Queen with a Dysfunctional Worldview. That's now officially my super villainess name!

Anyway, rather than waste any more time on a lost cause, I'm gonna tell you about the quintessential San Francisco experience I had today. I had to go up to Whole Foods on California and Franklin, which is a block past the last cable car stop on California, so I thought it would be fun to take the cable car. At five bucks a pop (that's five bucks either direction), it's not cheap. But since I have a Muni FastPass, I can hop on the cable car anytime I want as part of my $45 a month. I've only ridden it once since I moved here, late at night, so this was a chance to experience it in the daytime.

It was cold and spitting rain today, but the cable cars run right past my workplace on California and there are stops two blocks on either side of it. So armed with an oversized umbrella, my FastPass, money, and a bad book (one of the latest offerings in the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series. You know, the ones that stop having any clear sense of plot and are just a series of vignettes in which our heroine boinks werewolves, vampires, and the occasional human in loud, screaming, clawing sex scenes, and gains a new 'vampire power' with every fuck, interspersed with the occasional half a chapter that moves the story forward), I caught the cable car. Actually, I missed the first one by half a block and a minute, but that's okay 'cause I wasn't in any hurry. I hardly ever take lunch, so I figured I could take a leisurely hour of playing tourist.

I caught the next one at the second stop on the line, so there were plenty of seats. I opted to sit on one of the outside benches ('outside' meaning that it 's covered by the trolley roof, but the sides of that part of the car are open to the street), despite the rain. It's a little disconcerting watching cars zip by, feeling the wind of their passage as it were, and knowing that if you just happened to fall out, you'd be squished like a bug. But only a little because all you have to do is sit back, hold on to one of the many convenient poles if the going gets rough, and enjoy the sound of the trolley bell. And try to think of something other than alternating rounds of 'ding ding ding went the trolley' or 'Rice-A-Roni...the San Francisco Treat!'

Yes, I AM old enough to remember that commercial jingle.

Leave my age out of it, dagnabbit!

Youngsters these days, no respect...

Grumble...

See how angry I am?

Anyway, I enjoyed a chance to watch the scenery without a: worrying about tripping over my own feet or something on the sidewalk, or b: running into someone or something while driving. There are some gorgeous buildings along the length of California, most notably Grace Cathedral. I may not be religious, but I sure love the loving and ornate architectural details that go into so many of the old churches. The occasional splatter of rain didn't bother me. Did I mention I love rainy weather?

It was also fun watching the conductors run the cars. There are two per car and they all seem to enjoy their job, right down to pulling the rope that makes that 'ding ding ding' of the trolley. One of them kept winking at me, but I suspect it was because of the contented smile I wore throughout the trip. Either that, or he had a tic in one eye. Your call.

Cute Off!

Quien es mas cute?

Pandas? Or Foster? Keeping in mind that there's only one of him, of course. Quantity doesn't count.

A real post later, I swear...

Experimentation

I'm waiting for Dave to come pick me up from work, I'm officially off the clock and am intrigued by this Technorati blog tagging. So...I'm seeing what happens if I put a tag about wine in post. I will, of course, write a post about wine over the weekend 'cause otherwise I'm just the blogging equivalent of a cocktease.

technorati tags: wine

Free Hao Wu

I've read a lot about people in police states or oppressive countries getting carted off by secret police or detained unfairly. But it always seemed very distant and improbable until it happened to a friend of my sister's. Hao Wu, a Chinese documentary filmmaker, is being detained (a polite way to say 'arrested and jailed') by the Chinese authorities. The reason for his detention is as yet unknown. His friends and families have asked bloggers to spread the word to get global support and media attention in order to facilitate Hao's release.

Lisa wrote about it on her blog, so please check out her post. It's a lot more meaningful and personal than anything I can say. For more information on how you can help, go here.

technorati tags: freehaowu

http://ethanzuckerman.com/haowu/

Ghost in the Darkness

Cat in the Box
Originally uploaded by zhadi.

Oh yeah, Tsavo has his lion's den all picked out...I do believe there are bones in there.

Cat & Vase Still Life

Beezle still life
Originally uploaded by zhadi.

I like this photo - it looks like one of those black cat greeting cards...and shows a moment of feline serenity and human neatness in my kitchen.

Sleepy...

You know when you dream about taking a nap that you're suffering some serious sleep deprivation. Mind you, it doesn't take much to qualify as serious deprivation where I'm concerned. I need my eight (preferably) 9 hours in order to be a fully functional human worker drone.

I worked a 16 hour day yesterday...got up at 5am, got to work at 6:40 and didn't go off the clock till 10:20PM. Got home and to bed around 11:00, then up again this morning at 5am again. So the actual shortage of sleep was no doubt aggravated by the VERY long work day, as well as at least 1 1/2 to 3 hours overtime the three days prior. Today will be another long day, although not the marathon event of yesterday.

Upside to this is that part of my work duties yesterday included attending a dinner at Jardiniere Restaurant, which is across from the San Francisco Opera House. We had a private room located in one of the restaurant's wine 'cellars' (it was on the second floor, so I'm not sure that 'cellar' is the right term). It would be a great place to get stuck for a few weeks if one had good company or good books and, of course, a corkscrew.

I had a glass of Billecart-Salmon Brut Rose for cocktail hour, a delicate bubbly that was just the thing to take the last edge of stress off after a long day of coordinating catering and cars. We were served hours d'oevres, which included tuna tartare, truffled mushroom tartlettes, and herbed chevre with garden vegetables. Yummy.

Tony, one of our visiting dignitaries was in charge of the wine selection (nice to have it off my shoulders for the night!). He chose one white and two reds, which were poured throughout the evening. The white was a French Chablis, a 2002 Collet Vaillons. It had some pineapple in the nose and an interesting mineralityy to it, along with a hint of vanilla. It went nicely with my first course: Maine Diver scallops with sauteed mushrooms, smoked bacon, Italian parsley and toasted almonds. The scallops were fat, rich and very satisfying. It's amazing how filling small portions can be when well prepared.

The first red wine was a 2003 Shea Wine Cellars "Estate" Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley. It had none of the bright cherry characteristics that I associate with most Pinots. Michael said that it smelled of 'sweaty saddles and dirt' (but in a good way), which he always associated with pinots. It required the sommelier's intervention to point out that Michael was thinking of Syrah. I know I looked smug at that point. Sweaty saddles aside, and while it didn't really strike me as a great example of a Pinot, the earthy, almost-past-their-peak raspberry flavors were very enjoyable.

The third wine was served with the main course. It was a Domaine Joseph Voillot "Vieilles Vignes" 2003, a French Burgundy (Pinot Noir to you and me), and it was delicious. I haven't had a lot of Burgundies (unless you count the ones that come in a box with GALLO on the label), but if this is a good example of one, I could get severely addicted. Lots of berry in the nose and the taste, a complex and delicate wine. I guess it's what they call a 'well-balanced' wine 'cause all of the components just...worked together. So much for my career as a wine writer, but I don't how else to describe it. And it went so well with my dry aged New York steak with slow cookedbroccolii, garlic and lemon, fingerling potatoes and nicoise olive jus.

I'm not sure what dry aged means, btw. I had visions of a withered hunk ofoctogenariann meat, but this was medium-rare, rich, juicy, and oh so satisfying...

Dessert, a bittersweet Mexican chocolate cake with a rich vanilla ice cream, along with a cup of very good decaf coffee, topped off a perfect meal. And a company-subsidized cab ride home ended what was a pretty damn good day, considering that it was 16 hours of work.

But I still need some serious sleep.

"Ain't Got Time to Bleed!"

Oh, I just love PREDATOR. So many manly muscles rippling around the jungles in a sideways with a twist version of THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME. Of course, you can't beat SLAVE GIRLS FROM BEYOND INFINITY for the cheesiest version of man hunts man. Or, in SGFBI's case, man hunts women. Scantily clad women (including my favorite screen queen, Brinke Stevens) who have to utter some of the worst dialogue ("You're an inhuman fiend!") in screen history, to be precise. I hear a bad movie night calling...

But I'm not here to blog about bad movies. I just keep hearing that line from Predator in my head...playing over and over again like a catchy and/or annoying song. Of course, I'd rather have that line in my head than an endless loop of the chorus to "We are Santa's Elves" from Rudolph, the Red Nose Reindeer. That was yesterday's internal radio station choice. All day long.

But I'm not here to blog about which songs stick in my head either. I'm here to talk about the first official San Francisco Buffy Night!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One of my top 10 favorite TV shows, along with Firefly and classic Star Trek (I want my starship captains horny, hot-headed and prone to dramatic pauses! Unless we're talking Mal from Firefly. Then I want 'em...well, Mal-like. Or Mal-esque. Laconic, with a touch of dry wit and looking really good in those pseudo-Old West duds).

Oops. The Digression Alarm just went off. Damn, that's loud.

My favorite Buffy character was (and is) Spike, on account of his cheekbones, the way he looks without his shirt, and other reasons that have nothing to do with his looks. No, really. I mean it. Seriously, folks! I mean, I love all the characters (except Dawn, who was so irritating 90 percent of the time that I wanted someone to rip her head off) and the writing, even the not so good episodes, was some of the freshest and wittiest on TV. There was generally an underlying subtext (personal fave has to be Buffy's vampire boyfriend turning evil after the first time they have sex - talk about a metaphor for relationships...) and no matter what was going on in my life, somehow I could always find something to relate to in each episode. And even without the relevant subtexts, the show was just so damn funny. And it had Spike with his shirt off...


Buffy Night was an integral part of my life in Los Angeles. Every other week I'd get together at my sister's apartment and we'd watch the antics of Buffy and the Scoobies. We started our get-togethers during one of the last few seasons (don't remember which one), and they always involved what we called 'snackage', generally crackers or bread, cheeses, meats, and other delicacies meant for buffet style grazing. Wine was also part of the required refreshments.

Our Buffy get-togethers were soon joined by our honorary girlfriend (spelled 'gurlfriend') Jon. We had to teach Jon when he could and could not talk during Buffy (it's all about timing and it takes a while to develop the knack for it). Jon and I, on the other hand, developed the Buffy dance, which had to be done at the end of each episode during the theme song as it rolled over the credits. It became part of the ritual, along with me earning the nickname 'wine vampire' and falling asleep on the couch.

When the final episode of our beloved Buffy aired, we decided to continue the tradition of Buffy Night by starting at the very beginning of Season One and working our way through the entire show. Our location changed to Lisa's new house, giving us more room to spread out our feast and sometimes include other guests for the occasion. It was usually just the three of us, however.

And then...I moved to San Francisco. And Jon and Lisa continued Buffy Night WITHOUT me. Insult to injury, they found a new Dana! A faux Dana! We'll just call her...Mimi. Because that's her name. "It's just like having you there," Jon told me. "Mimi sucks down wine and falls asleep on the couch too."

So easily replaced.

We had other Buffy nights when I visited. I met Other Dana (and she's very nice, btw). But I missed the continuity and comfort of regular Buffy nights. So when Rick, after a bad movie night, asked if he and Jen could borrow my DVD set of Buffy, Season One, the proverbial lightbulb went on above my head and I suggested that we start watching it together on a regular basis. They agreed and last Saturday we had our first official San Francisco Buffy Night. Snackage was pizza, homemade cookies, and assorted sparkling and red wines. Not quite classic Buffy snackage, but that's okay 'cause both Rick and Jen were good enough sports to do the Buffy dance. It took three episodes and repeated demonstrations on my part, with Dave's help. The first time Jen looked at us both with an expression I can only describe as aghast with disbelief. Rick was a slightly easier sell, but then he's a cheap date. But bottom line, by the end of the third episode, "Witch", the Buffy dance was observed by all in the room and Dana was content.

Four episodes at a time will get us to Season Two in short order. And Season Two is when Spike first makes his appearance. I can't wait.

Curse You, Bloglet!

How many times must I go and reconfigure my settings so you'll send my loyal readers their Zhadi's Den updates? Why will you not send me updates on the blogs I subscribe to? I haven't gotten an update in two weeks! Don' t you love me any more? Is it a conspiracy? I'm a busy woman, I need my reminders!

Speaking of busy, I haven't written very many posts the last couple of weeks (especially compared to my unusually prolific posting in February), but I DID post a couple of disgustingly cute photos of the two kittens that we're socializing. I'm looking for name suggestions for the two of 'em in case Ling Ling and Mononoke don't stick.

Cat names can change from kittenhood to adulthood, y'see. Tsavo, my big orange monster, started out as The Bumble when he was little and cute, segued into Bedlam when his unique personality started to assert itself, then solidified into Tsavo when he started dragging stuffed animals and fur blankets much larger than himself across the house and hiding them under chairs and tables.

Why haven't I been posting? Well, the last couple of weeks have been a melange of calls and notes for script rewrites, as well as preparation for a twice yearly event at work that requires much attention to travel logistics, oodles of printing and photocopying, and a mean hand with a three hole punch. I've been putting in the overtime (11 hour work day yesterday, 16 hours today), trying to work on the script at night, as well as get in some tae-bo so I don't turn into a fat dumpling. AND let's not forget walking my dog on the beach! So...not a lot of time for anything else. Not that it would have mattered since Bloglet hasn't been giving people their updates.

Stupid bloglet. And I thought we had something special.

Beach Glass

Beach Glass
Originally uploaded by zhadi.

I'm doing lazy posts (blogging directly off of my flickr page), but I do have a good excuse. I'm knee deep in script rewrites and have been doing overtime at work to get ready for an upcoming two day meeting next week. Plus I've been unpacking books and knick-knacks that have been boxed up for a year and taking advantage of the all the energy I've suddenly got after three days sans migraines. Whoo hoo, says I!

ANYway, this beach glass is all from Ocean Beach, four blocks from my house. I'm not sure which I like more: the sheer volume of glass on Glass Beach or the thrill of the hunt closer to home. I really am part magpie...I wonder if this will eventually conflict with the feline part of my personality, causing me to implode or something...

Ling Ling

Ling Ling
Originally uploaded by zhadi.

The friendlier of our two rescue kittens - both were pulled from the Humane Society the day they were going to be euthanized. I didn't do the pulling, but I am doing the socializing, with Dave's able assistance. Ling Ling is to the point where she runs up for loves, but she's still not sure about her name...neither are we, so we're open to possibilities...and for someone who would love one, preferably two, adorable kitties.

Mononoke

Mononokw
Originally uploaded by zhadi.

This is one of the little semi-ferals that we're socializing. Her name, at the moment, is Mononoke (after Princess Mononoke, the semi-feral forest princess in Miyazake's movie of the same name), but that may not stick. Suggestions?

Migraines suck

Especially ones that KEEP COMING BACK. I have not been to be in the Blogger's Void, but I've spent the last...oh...two or three weeks in migraine hell. I really like this picture I found on Google Images 'cause it totally expresses how I feel, both mentally and physically.

How about emotionally, you ask? Well, Zomig (my migraine medication) is a depressant. If I have to take too many, I have what I call a Zomig hangover, which results in the aforementioned shades of gray outlook on life. And if you take too much of it, it can cause rebound headaches. Saturday I had to take four Zomig (three more than is typical for me to stop a headache) when what I'm pretty sure was a rebound headache woke me up at 5AM. Grrrrr...

I had some sort of 24 hour virus Sunday, which included all the lovely symptoms of the stomach flu, plus a godawful burning headache in the middle of my forehead AND a high fever. When that wore off, I was left with a one-sided migraine. Is this fair, I ask? I don't THINK so! Yesterday (Monday), I got by with half a migraine pill when the little bastard headache started to sneak back. Still more than I wanted to take. But still, better than downing four again. This morning I went to see my chiro and had my neck adjusted, plus 20 minutes of neck/face/head massage. Felt much better, although still very blah. Then...a half hour ago...yup, this little rat bastard came back again. AIEEEEEEE!!!!!

I have taken half a Zomig and am desperately hoping the headache goes away without a fight. To paraphrase my favorite quote from my favorite guilty pleasure testosterone laden flick PREDATOR, "I ain't got time for pain."

Shades of Gray

That's how I'm viewing the world and my life right now. And not in the good "I can see all sorts of shades in situations, not just black and white" kind of way, but more along the lines of "my world is bleak and the horizon filled with an endless vista of gray..." Goth vision. Back of hand on forehead, woe as me type deal. It's kind of embarrassing, because while my wardrobe has always veered into Gothesque, I've never taken myself seriously enough to be a Goth. And I don't want to start in my mid-forties, fer crissake.

I was feeling better, but I guess that getting sick, along with hormonal fluctuations and waiting for 8 days of Zomig to flush from my system, knocked me right back into the Gray Zone. Confusion over my impending divorce, feeling distanced from friends and family, feeling...well, very alone right now. Scared of sameness. Scared of repeating mistakes. Scared that these sharp painful waves of nostalgia will never stop. Wanting to feel enthusiastic about something other than a good glass of wine.

I'm fostering two kittens, about three months old. They were rescued from a shelter the day they were going to be euthanized by a fellow cat crazy gal in my neighborhood. She heard of my reputation for being good with ferals and asked if I'd be willing to take them so they can be adopted into good homes. It's time intensive, but I figure that maybe doing something worthwhile will blow some of these gray clouds away. They hiss when I come in the room and open the cage, but don't try to bite or scratch when I take 'em out and hold them. I can take being hissed at. And they're awfully dang cute. One is a gray and silver marbled tabby and the other a long haired silvery gray cutie with a face like an owl, all big eyes and tufted ears.

Anyone want a kitten?

Sick Day

I'm home from work today. Got a fever and a general malaise going here. Not a fever of a hundred and three and I don't feel particularly hot blooded at the moment either. More like a slothful reptile with cold blood running sluggishly through my veins (do reptiles have veins?) as I sit in my rocking chair, huddled in a blanket with a cat on my lap for warmth. You'd think I wouldn't need warmth what with the fever, but it comes and goes, and when I'm not hot, I'm cold. Phooey! And the fun part? I'll be working overtime to insure that I make up my hours so my paycheck isn't short. I used to love being a temp and suspect I still would if CHILL would pay off and my debts were gone. Then I'd just have to worry about rent and basic living expenses. This is, of course, assuming I can find a temp job when/if this one runs out.

It used to be relatively easy getting temp jobs. You'd call your agency, they'd call you and tell you to be at such and such a place on this date to do this job. This was Los Angeles, of course. Here in San Francisco you have to send in your resume and sometimes even interview for a temp job. A friggin' temp job! And the last time I was out of work, I had a barren streak of six weeks before I got another position. Let's just say I can't afford that to happen this time around. I'm eyeballing all of my worldy possessions to see what I have that might be worth something on Ebay or Craigslist. Hell, I'm even considering a...a...a yard sale.

On the upside of things, I had my meeting last Friday with the producers for CHILL and it went really well. I'm once more cautiously optimistic that I'll see a paycheck for this option, and have a little bit of my faith in Hollywood humanity restored. And that is saying something. And I gotta say that I still get a huge kick out of going for meetings on the Universal Studios or Warner Brothers lot. I hope I never lose the sense of fun in this. It's not a case of being starstruck. It's just that whole being an adult, professional type writer person and taking a meeting on a major film studio lot.

Lessee...I went to EFBC on Saturday and worked the day there. Got leopard love, tiger kisses (including one from Caesar...and if you read the comments in my blog, take a look at Mr. Fabulous's avatar 'cause that is the one and only Caesar from EFBC!), and jaguar licks, not to mention the singularly unique pleasure of brushing a Siberian lynx with a curry comb. It was a good day, and the only one last week during which I did not have a headache.

That evening Lisa and I went to Billy's for dinner and had some amazing food and wine. Billy cooked another hunk of red meat to perfection and allowed me to pillage his wine cellar, with the able-bodied help of Ernie, my de facto godson (I've taught him everything I know about zombies, while Brian found a willing padawan in all things Star Wars). The highlight of the evening was a 1997 Reserve cabernet from Eberle. The kind of wine that has so much going on that I could spend hours just inhaling the bouquet (except then I wouldn't get more than one glass, so the hell with that!). The mouthfeel was rich, viscous. It was bursting with all sorts of berry flavors, chocolate, leather, a perfect balance of fruit, acidity and tannin. And all that other wine talk. The other wines (also cabernets) were also delicious (except one that may have been slightly corked - it not only smelled and tasted of leather, but also leather polish), but none of them stand out the same way the Eberle did. There were seven of us there that night (Me, Lisa, Billy, Enrnie, Pete, Dave S. and his girlfriend, Junko) and probably a good seven bottles were emptied. Lisa and I were both fairly restrained in our intake - Lisa because she was driving; me because I'm a: determined to savor my wine, which you just can't do when you've had too much, and b: because I wanted to enjoy the company of my friends without falling asleep mid-conversation, which is my party trick when I've had a glass too many. I'm pleased to report that I stayed awake and coherant for the duration. Hah!

Drat. CHARMED is over...one of my guilty pleasures, I have to confess...CHARMED reruns. Although I'm still convinced that WB grows the actors and actresses for their shows in vats somewhere 'cause 90 percent of 'em look just alike.

At any rate, now that CHARMED has faded into some silly crime show...to quote one of my favorite movies, LOST SKELETON OF CADAVRE...I sleep now!

One of the reasons things are better

This is Sorscha and Spike. Spike is one of my
sister's cats; a huge black panther of a feline (and yes, I know there's really no such thing as a black panther - they're either leopards or jaguars, but 'black panther' describes Spike in a way
that nothing else can) with mischievous yet sweet disposition. Sorscha is one of my seven children (The Von Trapp Family Meowers) from my marriage. Along with Shmoo (short for Asmodeous - don't ask why), Sorscha stayed with Brian when I moved up to San Francisco. She was very happy being only one of two cats and I felt as okay about leaving her (and Shmoo) as it's possible for someone as crazy about my animals to feel when leaving any of them behind, even with their father.

Brian recently relocated to Humboldt for at least a few months. He took Shmoo, who is the epitome of mellow and can handle the various moves. Sorscha, on the other hand, has always been a scaredy cat. It took years before she'd sit on my lap and let me pet her without running away. Neither Brian nor I figured that she'd respond well to being dragged up to Humboldt, where his living situation was only temporary. And at the time, I still had my roommate and her three cats and rather bunctious dog in the house. So we asked Lisa if she'd take Sorscha, at least until one of us was settled.

I think Sorscha's found her home. She's always loved Lisa (maybe something to do with the family crazy cat lady vibe?) and while the adjustment period was inevitable, she's settled in with Spike as her new best friend and has an aura of contentment and calm that comes from feeling safe. So...as much as I'd like to bring her up to San Francisco to live with me again, Sorscha will stay in L.A., where I can visit her (and get into Lisa's excellent wine selection).

And now, off to the chiropractor to vanquish what is now officially a week and a day migraine. And then more interesting posts!

Better now...

But you'll have to wait for the specifics 'cause I just got back from a LONG drive from L.A. to San Francisco, complete with an overturned big-rig on the I-5, and lots of hard, driving rain. The weather gods have evidently decided that whenever Dana drives more than 30 miles, the heavens must open up and dump a lake's worth of water on her.

ANYway, more posts coming up! Stay tuned and find out what happens when you de-magnitize your Shell gas card, my meeting on CHILL, more awesome wine, and music. Not necessarily in that order.

Sleep now...

Just when you think it's safe...

I was gonna use the original SCREAM, but this one captures more of a sense of the absurdity of life. I've heard Homer's "D'OH!!!" echoing in my ears, like the one in THE SIMPSON'S version of KING KONG.

My job, which I thought was relatively secure, turns out to be anything but. It's not a done deal yet, but odds are good that in a couple of months I'll be looking for something else to pay the bills. This bums me out because I really love what I'm doing. I like the people, the location, the work (most of it), the hours. It's one of the first real (non-creative) jobs I've had that's interested me on any sort of long term basis. So to find out that I'm essentially a place-holder for another person that they'd like to hire...well, it's very depressing. On the upside (call me Pollyanna), if it doesn't work out with this person, I've got the job. If not, I'll get good references and have picked up job skills and experience that'll make it that much easier to find something else.

What truly frustrates me is that I've avoided trying to find a day job that could be a potential career for most of my adult life, bouncing from temp job to temp job and trying to make it as first an actress, then a writer. For the last year, while not giving up on my writing, I've really tried hard to find something that I could stick with, finally accepting the fact that I may never make enough money in creative pursuits. And if I had to have a job, why not find one that genuinely interested me? So I did, first with my last temp job (my boss would have hired me, but a merge with another company left a lot of employees without jobs and they had to hire internal candidates), and now this job. It seems to me that the Universe isn't behind me in my efforts to become an adult.

On top of that, the screenplay option on CHILL with my writing partner, took a sudden, completely unexpected turn when we received a batch of notes from the producers. Without going into details, let's just say that many emails in varying shades of reasonable to acrimonious, have gone back and forth through cyber space the last three days. The end result, my writing partner has backed off the project and I may or may not be able to find a middle ground for the current creative differences. There's a whole backstory on this that I won't go into...but suffice to say that I've had a migraine for three days, haven't written a word not part of the above referenced emails, and I'm very grouchy. But I'm also determined to get a paycheck for this project for myself and my partner. I have a meeting in L.A. Friday. Wish me luck.

I realize that we're not supposed to get complacent in our lives...but isn't it ever safe to relax and become at least semi-comfy?

On the upside, at least it didn't send me into a blogless tailspin for a month. And I'm gonna have dinner at Billy's with my sister on Saturday night, which means good food, good wine and good company. I take my silver linings where I can find 'em.