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!