Wish me luck.

I have to replace my hard drive.

My firewall software took a dump and now my drive has been fucked up from an unfortunate influx of all kinds of nasty things. Since the only sites I visit are my email (yahoo), some blogs, myspace and Defamer, I'm wondering who's fault this is.

Since I've never changed a hard drive before, I may just end up fucking up my computer (I may not - it can't be that hard, can it?), so hopefully I'll continue to have internet access.

So, today I've got to back up the stuff I want to keep (all my photos, my blog backup, phone book, etc), and tonight I'm going to put in the new drive.

Hopefully I'll be successful - if not I'm doomed to posting everything from the internet cafe until I can make this work.

January - project month

In the past few days, the film production rumor mill has cranked up to high speed again, and when I went to pay my union dues I heard rumblings about a "bunch of stuff" starting up around the 15th of this month.

While work is always a very good thing, I have to be honest in that I have conflicting feelings about this.

January is the one month when I know I'm not going to work, so I can do things like upgrade my computer (which requires six trips to Fry's and at least two screaming matches polite conversations at the exchange desk)*, clean my house (when I come home from work every night, I throw whatever's left of the LA Times in the recycle basket, so after a few weeks I've got a pile of newspapers the size of the blob in my living room - not to mention the dust bunnies), and drop the five pounds I've put on while sitting on set eating too much crafty.

I also have to go through my work bag and figure out how many tools I need to replace before it gets busy again. I do tend to lose tools due to absent-minded borrowers, but some just wear out, get damaged (if you use a screwdriver to pry apart two bates connectors that are stuck together, it can bend the screwdriver - or blow a chunk out of it if there's still power to that line. They just don't make tools like they used to), or are dropped on a concrete floor from 40 feet in the air.

I also have some stuff to do for the next micro-budget we're trying to fund, finish the SAG paperwork for the last one (it's halfway through edit #3 now), re-cover the couch (I've had the fabric for two years and just haven't gotten around to it), and soak the front window screens in solvent (damn teenagers) to remove the graffiti.

I'm going to hope for more work - money doesn't spoil, and I can always put off my projects until spring.


* Does anyone have any suggestions for a good hard firewall (i.e. not a software firewall) for home use that doesn't cost a jillion dollars?

Travel anxiety

The last few times I've been out of town for longer than one night, I've had the same recurring nightmare. I dream that I come home, pull up to the house, and discover that it's a smoldering ruin - a rubble heap from which I can salvage nothing. In the dream, I stand there, wondering why I didn't pack more clothes, since now all I own is what's in the car.

It happened again this trip - as I lay in the cold bedroom on the lumpy twin bed, I tossed and turned, repeatedly waking up my sister who snapped on night two and suggested that I might be more comfortable on the floor in the living room (the couch was taken up by the other sister).

I know that it's just a dream, but it's an exceptionally vivid one, and always carries over into my waking life - I just can't shake the imagery, and to drive it out of my brain, I do things like write stupid haikus (see yesterday's post), and make a valiant (yet invariably unsuccessful) attempt to finish the New York Times crossword.

None of it seems to work, though. I spend the last day of every trip with this grinding, irrational anxiety gnawing at me.

Sure enough, when I got home, everything was intact, and the only catastrophe was a very angry cat - she'd eaten her food ration too quickly and had an empty bowl.

It's good to be home.

Airport Internet Kiosk Haiku

Five dollars for 15 minutes.

Go!

Turbulent aircraft
The shaking invigorates
Where are my fillings?

So many head colds
Recirculating air - yuck!
Please try not to sneeze.

The plane boards at last
Passengers packed like sardines
Soon I will be home


I promise I will never post poetry ever again.