That Reckless Transatlantic

Happy Friday Everyone--except You (points wrathfully)...

Pardon my Deadbeat-Dad-intermittent-posting-consistency, please... I'd blame it on the residuals of performance enhancing drugs, but I'm not privy to the existence of a Screenwriting Federation that regulates Adderall, Ginkgo Biloba and coffeee (and some pretty swanky meditation in front of my hand-carved Buddha, but now I'm veering off into the Braggart Zone).

My Girlfriend came back from Pittsburgh a week ago and, like the Relationship VS Person post (see below) I fell off the wagon of that sweet, sweet consistency we know and love i.e. me sitting at my desk giggling to  myself in front of my monitor...

So--you can't blame a guy for being in love--well, unless it's someone you were in love with prior to my being in love with her.  In this case, we shall duel at sundown, Navy Pier, and if I could have a moment to switch the primary beneficiary of my life insurance that would be oh so radical.

And then there's Apartment Hunting--it's looming above, as I type this, an embryonic God waiting for safe transport into this, the Modern World.  I'm finally into the Treatment phase (a shortened, prose-like summation of the plot that's generally 5-10X shorter than the script--however I do an OVERVIEW, CHARACTER SET-UP, PLOT, section(s) because it's the sexier way to go about things) and for having never (or been to obstinate) having done one before I can say it's a MAJOR necessity because if you're work's not up-to-snuff, it's gonna show, like cum-stains in blacklight, and then it's back to the drawing board you go.  Thankfully, like effusive-southern-baptist-church Thankfully, the script is where it needs to be because thematically and plot-wise it's flowing beautifully.  And by 'flowing' I mean the Treatment will pique your curiosity to pick up the actual Script and give it a whirl.

So--I'm calling myself out here--I will not make my 2-16-09 (my 29th birthday) deadline, but rather be delayed by a week or so....However to see this thing gestate, and assume a formidable shape is freaking me out--in that fantastic sort of way, like when you feel the Ex or mushrooms start to take hold in the pit of your stomach.  But trite drug-use analogies aside it's where it needs to be: 100%.  And taking this term off from Second City was a masterstroke (now I suppose you want trite masturbation analogies?); and in perfect timing, this draft will be more than ready by the time classes (advanced writing program) start again mid-march.

The title of the post?  Ah, well, I'm STILL reading Gravity's Rainbow from Pynchon and 'That Reckless Transatlantic' was inspired by a nickname given to Tyrone Slothrop, one of main characters who may, or may not have the ability to make Rockets fall where he chooses.  This book makes me Wet all over, but I read slow and this is all the way over on the dense side.  My favorite novel Infinite Jest  by David Foster Wallace (rip) took so long the book was tattered and torn (carrying it around chicago) by the time I was finished.   

(BTW the more people subscribe to this blog the more I'll feel the neurotic pressure/motivation to post--sort of like when you were a kid and demanded your parent watched you do a trick in the local swimming pool.)

OK: back to the Treatment I go.

The Coffee: Metropolis 

The Music: Fennesz 

The Cardigan: Vintage Orvis cashmere