Like I said, yesterday was really cold, and I knew it would be so at the cabin, but I was determined to go. And there was snow on the ground there, but it was melting and dripping off the cabin's roof, just barely over forty degrees. I hadn't had to build a fire in several visits, but I did so almost as soon as I arrived, and had forgotten how bad I am at keeping a fire going (it's burned out twice in the ninety minutes since I got here).
I am just no good in the cold. In between starting the fire and trying to get it going, I'm tempted to just sit on the couch with a blanket around me and . . . well, edit audio, which is still getting something done. It could be worse--I could just sleep, or watch the stack of DVDs I bring with me every time.
I had this idea for a sketch the other day, a sort of James Bond meeting the villain scene, like we see so often. I thought it would be funny if it started out as the usual "Don't you find my secret installation magnificent, Mister Bond?" interchange, and then descends into something way more personal. I nearly wrote it, then I got the idea of writing it for me and Renee Chambliss (who I'm always eager to work with again), maybe changing Bond to a female secret agent. But it changed the tone of the script (which I hadn't yet written) by changing it from two men to a man and a woman, and I didn't end up writing it.
I might still write it, if I could come up with some ending for it that's funny enough.
On one Sunday, when I went on a waterfall hike, I stopped at a park and wrote another sketch for the two of us to do (about a waitress and a crazy customer), and I never really felt it was good enough. It's weird how precious I am about Renee, and asking her to do things for me, but she really is a truly talented professional, and I fear she's slumming to work for me.
In July, I wrote another sketch, called "Ticking and Tocking," that I also abandoned, because it was just too gross, too vulgar, but more than that . . . too realistic. I'll ask Renee about it the next time we talk, see if she thinks it's worth finishing, but right now, I keep trying to find a script that's worthy of her.
Again, I don't know what's interesting to talk about in a daily blog, but it must be a bore to hear about the weather, my exercise, and about writing projects you will never read. Imagine if I filled these pages with endless paeans to unrequited love.
Sit-ups Today: 200
Sit-ups In September: 1262
Push-ups Today: 33
Push-ups In September: 261
I did my requisite trip to the lake (what's left of it) as the sun was setting, now earlier than ever. It was miserable cold, and I just couldn't go out to the other side of the lake like I had planned. It was just too cold, my hand complaining after carrying the tripod a hundred feet. So, I just planted it in front of the lake by where the rowboats are beached (that having been at the water's edge a month ago when their owners left them there), started my camera, and did the shortest song I've done all summer (similar to the first couple I did where I just sang part of a song and called it good*). I didn't have the body heat to do a second take of it, even though there wasn't a soul around, and I could've done "American Pie" and not been interrupted.
Just for fun, I recorded a couple of minutes of the sunset, which I'll post here, not wanting it to go to waste. But by then, I was starting not to be able to feel my fingers, so I stumbled back to my car before the sun was even fully down.
Back at the cabin, the fire had--miracle of miracles--not burned itself out, and I threw another long on, ate an entire can of Pringles, and watched the 1959 BEN-HUR. It's an insanely long movie, and before I'd even gotten to the chariot race, I'd fallen asleep.
But, I made myself get up, throw another log on the fire (it's almost pleasant in here now, though it's still cold by the windows and in the bathroom), and forced myself to sit down and write a little bit more before I allowed myself to sleep for real. I don't know how the story's going to end, exactly, but there's no reason I can't finish it tomorrow.
Except I'll come up with a reason, believe me.
Words Today: 1069
Words In September: 11,823
*Which reminds me, I really ought to re-do that Adele song I did second or third of all last winter, since I only learned that one bit of the song and never know the rest of it whenever I hear it play.
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