Corporate jets, ham & cheese and a dead swallow

Corporate jets, ham & cheese and a dead swallow

I’m back with my coffee flavored water at my side, one more piece of clothing on (dressing today will be a progressive thing). In the interval I have examined my fabulous hair do, wrecked by last night’s rain and the slightly smaller triple bags under my eyes. Consumed allergy meds and checked the time. Yes I think I can manage the 1:30 session which is here at the hotel. Fingers crossed.

Who’d a thought that flying direct from a big city like Vancouver to a provincial capital like Regina would involve a small plane? Not me that is for sure. Smallest plane I’ve ever been on. Plane from Vancouver to Kelowna was twice the size. Not a prop plane, but as the flight attendant described it, an extended corporate jet. Is true. The same model jet Bombardier sells as a corporate jet, they extended slightly in length and that was the CRAModel? Jet I was on. - 26 seats. Cabin height at centre only 6’2”. It was however, fast. And since no-one was beside me, comfortable.

My big city girlness though always gets a big shock at small airports. When YVR is your home airport I think it can be understood that Regina International is a shock. I thought Kelowna was small. Nope. The Shuttle Driver and husband of one of the Yorkton Film Fest’s principal organizer was on hand and as warm and friendly as all the great clichés about prairie hospitality.

Now see, we have stumbled up against one of my personal blog rules, which is not to name individuals by their names unless they are already public figures to some degree. Which for the purposes of the Yorkton Short Film Festival experience on my blog might mean that some of the great people whom I’ve met will not be properly credited so to speak and so my blog posting won’t serve to enhance their names or reputations. Which is not that great in that it would be nice to help some of them in some small way. On the other hand I feel pretty strongly that they deserve a certain amount of privacy and my practice of nicknaming folks means they, and those that were there understand who they are, but the wider world and far reaches of my network don’t. It also gives me the freedom to say what I need to when I need to. Thus the decision is taken. I will continue to allude to individuals by nicknames and descriptors.

Okay, now with that out of the way. I will say that the grilled cheese sandwich at the airport reminded me of the weird importance of fresh bread to Saskatchewanians. Not that they have some kind of crazier artesian varieties or special secret recipe, but bread is always present big and bold and it is always fresh. As a kid I noticed that when my grandparents came to visit that suddenly at every meal fresh bread and butter appeared on the table for every meal. The presence of my grandpa, a wheat farmer, made it de rigueur, regardless of what else was on the table.

Running out of time. Will share Canadian Short Screenplay Competition (CSSC) pre-awards jitters later.

My fingers smell like lobster and cordite

Hey, I’m not saying this is gonna be a pretty post. Feevty-feevty at best.

First I am going to apologize for the long silence of the blog. Things have been going on in my head that were not possible for me to share in the fully conscious literary form which is what I hope this blog sort of is. A literary expression of the mish-mash of stuff that happens in my head that then needs a good sort before it can become words and stories on a page.

One of the most important things that I’m trying to do is get comfortable with being comfortable. Even now I realize I am typing this in my Yorkton hotel room sitting on a chair that is all skewed and twisted so I can reach the keyboard, thereby ensuring that my body is skewed and twisted in facing the keyboard. Not even close to comfy. So hold on a sec while I re-orient and get a granola bar. I slept thru breakfast.

Why did I sleep thru breakfast. Well, yes partly because I had so much fun but partly because either lobster or beer are no longer my friends, allergy wise. By the time I limped and wheezed my way back to my room I was in bad shape. My muscles and joints were screaming I was wheezing, my nose was running and it dawned on my that I was having an allergic reaction. Sure enough a puff on the puffer and two Nyquil liqugels and a vast improvement. Anyway enough about the boring allergy crap. I thought I was dealing with a head cold, but it could more truly be spring allergies out of control. I did also stand out in a field of grass in Saskatchewan in spring time. Me who is wickedly allergic to GRASS. Probably no grass pollen out there eh? Sigh.

I am drinking hotel coffee and eating granola bars for breakfast because my eyes are still so swollen that I can’t bear to be seen in public. Showing up looking up at a panel looking like the survivor of a domestic knock down drag out is not how I want to be remembered. So hitting the caffeine with both puffy eye roller and internally until some semblance of normal. Hopefully by 1:30 as I would like to make an appearance at least at one session.

Okay posting now and so desperate will make the decaf coffee and comeback and give you part II or the prequel, since it will be back tracking the timeline for Yorkton Film Fest 2010 to the flight and drive to get here.

Zounds what a week!

Okay I just felt it had been way too long since I used the word "zounds" in a sentence so what better way to start a blog post than with an archaic swear word that is a contraction for "Christ's wounds". Got an interesting email from a family member which suggested how life would be if we treated our Bible like our cell phone - you know, take it with you every where, use it in an emergency, consult it for directions, etc. Not all that helpful in that you're starting with the assumption that everyone has a bible. Though come to think of it, I'm pretty sure that must be a free app for my iPhone. The best part of all though was the end which told me the best part of all was that the bill had already been paid (note to self, pay cell phone bill) by Jesus. Yep, paid my cosmic cell phone bill by dying on the cross, during which time he was, according to the author of this email, thinking of me. I'm not sure I'm going to comment any further on this. Somehow just sharing it seems sufficient unto the day. Except to say that a little help paying the REAL cell phone bill would not be amiss, since I incurred crazy roaming charges in California last month and only myself to blame for not buying a "package" in advance.

Resistance put on a new dress this week and sashayed around my life, blocking the writing for the most part. It came in the form of squandering time and emotional energy trying to find funding for making The Lobby. I got all caught up in plotting and planning and drafting cover letters and adjusting budgets because it suddenly came apparent to me that I needed to make this film, like now, and that by doing so, I'd save the planet and launch my career into the stratosphere.

Needless to say upon closer examination of this assertion I realized I was distracting myself from making the very minor doable changes to the Rain Girls outline and sending it off. Also doing my taxes where I stand to get a whoopping great refund but actually have to finish doing them. So I bailed on the roadtrip and will try and Pomodoro my way through and get monkey off my back. Girl who is lucky and prosperous and needs to live that way, in joy and all expectation of every good thing.

Now for the fun part

Okay peeps. Heavy lifting is done. Rain Girls pilot script outline is out for first round of judgment. Time is not, however my friend so I must plow ahead with cranking out the full script even before plot feedback. So far the feedback I have is that one person likes the title (I thought she was being sarcastic, but apparently not) and the other doesn't like the teaser, doesn't think it is enough to get him back in his chair after commercial. Great. One last frightened peek at my email in box for feedback and then four pomodoro's of dialogue work, so the traditionally weepy grief of a creative milestone will have to save itself for the next round.

I did weep a bit on Hoosie's virtual shoulder last night. Which reminds me I need to let him know that such behavior will be a regular occurrence every single time I hit a writing milestone. I know it is batshit crazy but there it is I hate finishing things so maybe the way to get over that is not to wallow and pick nits but to get on to something new immediately.

We'll see, I'll let you know after a set of Pomodoros.

I finished something.

11:03:57 May 6, 2010 Vancouver BC. Typed Fade Out at the end of a 16 page outline for the Rain Girls Pilot script.

Too tired to pop the champagne. Oh well there is always breakfast. but not tomorrow must write world changing prose tomorrow. But one glorious day of nothing but clean clear UBC work before I have to face tomorrow night's Skype note session. For I also hit the send button on getting the outline out to readers both gentle and not for feedback. Still need to send to a few more folks but seriously 12 hours of typing and my fingers are burning. Ibuprofen and cold gel. will email you others tomorrow.

That was some kinda tough writing kids. of the be careful what you wish for cause then you have to deliver. You sure I can't make a living with witty tweets? I'm good at witty tweets.

nite an'g'bless

FINISH

Okay. rough day. I give you that. Intestinal turpitude. Enough said. That is your word for the day TURPITUDE. Look it up.

Did do the gym. Hey that is non-negotiable on a Wednesday, right? Unless a limb is broken or blood issuing from and unpredicted orifice one must work out on a Wednesday.

I even wrote a bit. Not much, but a bit. I could have finished if I'd been diligent. But given that I am 90% done the I DON'T WANT TO FINISH monster takes over. He is very hairy and likes to dance around my head shaking maracas while shouting loudly and hoarsely that we are almost done. Not quite, but almost. So I have to distract him by waxing my legs and writing this blog so he'll look the other way long enough for me to finish.

I have my alarm set for 3 am - wish me luck. Proof is on the page kids. Is it weird that I am looking forward to going to work tomorrow. Because there I have to deliver what is expected. Here I have to deliver what is unexpected. Suddenly my day job is less stressful than my life. Hmmmm.

The sword is in the stone and act 4 still in my head

Wow. Ever noticed how bright and white the word processor page is at 4:30 a.m. Now I know I should have just rolled over and gone back to sleep, but instead here I am typing with my eyes closed I might add because I thought I had something profound to say about writing. Okay that’s better. Turned off the big monitor and now am typing in the dark with my eyes closed. Look out people. Talk about filters off. Who know what may come marching up out of my subconscious and through my fingers? I could also take an hour to spell check this piece after I finish it too.

Okay something profound about writing . Yes. That is why I am up in at a time that is not even the middle of the night, but a really don’t go their time of night sharing my trite little insights.

It was something about when the universe dishes out a lesson in humility you’d better listen because the universe isn’t kidding. Hmmmm sounded a lot more poetic 10 minute ago. Huh. Well I was supposed to write last night and didn’t. I went to the gym drank wine and watched Glee. Which was awesome and made me happy by the way. And I watched a preview of the Canadian Tenors PBS special on the internet which also made me happy. And my nieces sent a super cute photo of the two of them trying to pull the sword from the stone in Disney land . A time honored family tradition that they pursued just for me so that made me feel special. Hoosie called me on my use of Whatever though and bad me texted back before realizing it was 3 am in TO where he is currently at. Oh well not like he hasn’t texted me awake before with a chirpy script note. Still now i have to send a sorry for texting you in the middle of the night text. Next to your cell phone butt dialing the last person you spoke with when you are getting into a cab after a party, one of the dumbest annoying things you can do to someone.

Good thing they have those little raised bumps on the keyboard cause I’m still typing with my eyesd closed. And of course, nope, the profound writing insight is gone.

Though I think it had something to do with the fact that the first three acts of Rain Girls pilot are solid and only the last act to go and I know what happens mostly so the fact that I didn’t move my fingers over the keyboard doesn’t actually mean that I didn’t write. However I am wondering why the vast majority of my pilot script takes place in parking lots. Whose idea was that ? I am starting act four and they are sitting in the van in the third parking lot of the pilot . When did my story become about parking lots? Not that you won’t be surprised by what happens in the parking lots, because you will but still. It is making me wonder what has ever happened to me in parking lots that has made me condense them into this story. Hmmm Lets see. Never set out for a swim team field trip from one. Though yes a few rowing trips in college. Never been abducted by aliens from one though have made out with a few in one and never sat staring at neon motel room sign alongside the high school janitor in one. Have been dumped in. Did kiss my first boy in one I behind the school. Do find myself sitting in the car staring at the rain in moments of stress in one I suppose.

Any way I hope my readers will be gentle on me with the whole parking lot motif. Come to think of it I made the Empress put a parking lot scene into her feature script too for the big climactic fight scene. Parking lots are good for fight scenes. I bet you’ve had a fight in a parking lot, haven’t you? Or maybe more than one? I thought so.

Alright. Back to bed since promised major writer insight does not seem to be quite as on the tip of my brain as I thought. I'll try again tomorrow. Sorry I mean later. It is tomorrow. Did I mention Glee was awesome? So was the Canadian Tenors DVD PBS concert preview. David Foster and Sarah McLachlan are in it too. I pre-ordered the DVD. Not that I have DVD player.

cold pizza and sleeping in

so I just had a piece of cold pizza it is 8:17 am and I'm going back to bed. I was up during Lost Hour writing on Rain Girls so figure I only clocked about 4 actual hours of shut eye.

crazy crazy deadline of doom now so the next ten days will see a lot of interesting behavior in the Cocoverse. please do not be alarmed and no need to adjust your set. this is however a test of the emergency broadcast system in case in need someone to drive by with a case of Red Bull and a bucket of chicken.

for now I'm earplugs in and back to bed to dream of what the science is behind the girls getting their superpower. i can just hear Hoosie saying "Meh, science schmience, if it works who cares?" Well, I care. If I didn't I wouldn't be me and as long ago and far away as it was i still have earned the right to put B.Sc. after my name. issh that sounded whiny and petulant and I have ear plugs in so it must really have been.

okay, catch u later. i will blog as i can for those interested in how to write a TV pilot script in 10 days. fortunately not quite from a standing start. draft 15 page outline is done.

I think the Lynx guy is going to win it

Oh well, after a week of pushing the limits of my witty tweeting ability in an effort to win my pass to Banff 2010 TV Festival I think the guy with the personal grudge against the Lynx is gonna take the big prize. Not that I didn't have some fine moments. Really though it was an interesting writing competition/social media thing where the rule is simple - between this time and this time tweet about why you want to go to the upcoming Banff TV fest. Best tweet wins. The part i didn't expect is that since you can read everyone's entries that this interaction and commentary on other peoples posts starts to happen. It was actually kinda cool. And you had to choose whether or not you were up to engaging in the banter because as soon as you do, you can't really walk away clean until you are clearly on top or times up. It also told me of all the people who tweeted an entry, there are now two on my list to meet should we all get to Banff and honestly both are canadidates for my writer's room. Which, though I love you all, is going to be wicked hard for any one to get into since I'll only want to hire people who are funnier and sharper then me, not that a bunch of you aren't but most of you aren't in that very particular writer's room kinda way. Lookit me talking like I know how to build a writer's room. Well I will have to some day so in the same way that a future hydro engineer starts out with a bucket and a shovel in the backyard sand box, this is me figuring out how to build my future writer's room.

From this last crossing of swords I'll be looking up Lynx guy and the girl who bet on him who somehow managed to add in laser guns and ninja stars. It was fun people, thanks for the writing lesson.