Still busy, but life goes on even if I cannot write it all down.
Our company had a lovely Christmas party at the Rendezvous in Belltown, at which I discovered chamborg and vodka martinis. I don't think I've had a hangover that bad in nearly a decade, and I was moving around carefully the next morning. That did not stop me from attending briefly the drinking afternoon of Frabjous Dave, though it did limit my intake to a single beer, recommended by the Dave.
In order to make Dave's, I ditched a performance of Bad Dates at the Rep, which was attended by my mom-in-law and wife (my sister-in-law had to get back to Cali, so by dodging the play I could drive her to the airport at a civilized hour as opposed to making her wait three hours at the airport). So no review of Bad Dates, though Kate said that she was worried that it would be a one-woman show about shoes, but things picked up when the Romanian Mafia showed up.
I don't know if I've mentioned it, but Nardi, my mother-in-law, is a professional actress. Her movie credits are here. Not listed is her most recent part, in The Bread, My Sweet where she played a meter maid giving Scott Baio a ticket.(take THAT, Chachi!)
Other than that, most of my weekend has been swallowed by the freelance project, which has hit a milestone. Now I have to worry about a short story, then back to the rest of the freelance project. Yes, there are still things I want to rant about, including our sputtering stock market, Tommy Thomson, and the fact that, despite the successes of LOTR and Harry Potter, Hollywood still doesn't quite understand the nature of cinematic adaptations of the written word. But that will have to wait for later.
And I just got word from a fellow editor that his daughter is on the ground in Kuwait, and heading for Baghdad. And her unit (Kansas National Guard) is handling transportation. So I'm suddenly very interested in the continuing lack of protective armor for our troops.
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