Daniel Craig Helps to Save the World

I have this whole life where I am not chained to the computer.  Really.  I am not endlessly editing my first novel.  OR allowing Mark Zuckerberg to suck out the rest of my brains.  OR sending out pissy emails to my elected state officials.  Or writing blog entries.

See, in this other life, this alternative life, if you will, I have been secretly developing a project.  A dastardly project.  A warped, evil project that will result in Daniel Craig James Bond having to save the world from the fruits of my labor.

You see, here is the real plot for Skyfall.  Pay no attention to the "trailers".  They bear no resemblance to this script.  Read on...

Daniel Craig James Bond knocks on the front door of the house.  A dog begins to bark.  A female voice gently shushes the dog
ME:  Shut up, you idiot dog!  You don't have to bark at every damn thing!
Daniel Craig [yeah, I give up] lifts an eyebrow, giving that patented smirk.  A feminine shape appears at the side window, peering through the small gap in the curtains.  The female voice shrieks.
ME:  OH NO NO NO NO NO!!!  Please give me five minutes.  I won't destroy anything, I promise!

The sound of feet running up the stairs so the female can hastily slip on a sexy dress and her killer red suede high heels.  Daniel Craig checks his Omega watch and looks at the black lab, who is eyeing him through the window and madly wagging her tail.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Really, if this is a bad time, I could come back later.  I have a few Vesper Martinis to down.
The door suddenly opens.  I am standing there in a sexy red cocktail dress with the killer red suede high heels.  I have one hand concealed behind my back.  
ME:  Don't make a move, Mr. Bond.  I think I can persuade you to forget her, and those crappy martinis.
There is a momentary tightening around his eyes.  He decides to take the weapon away.  He grabs my arm and finds that I am holding only my phone...  There is a subtle line between his eyes-- wonderful acting!
DANIEL CRAIG:  This is a phone.
ME:  Yes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  How are you going to take over the world with a phone?  I am capable of defusing bombs, you know.
ME:  I am not going to take over the world, Mr. Bond.  I am merely going to change it... For the better.
DANIEL CRAIG:  You have one minute to tell me how, or I shall show you what I can do with my little finger.
ME:  (smirking)  Is that supposed to be a disincentive?  You are welcome to use all ten fingers.
DANIEL CRAIG:  (not showing any reaction)  You have fifty seconds.
ME:  Fine.  Look.
My fingers tap a few times, and a phone app appears.  It is The Daily Toast.  He watches over my shoulder suspiciously for a moment, and then his handsome face relaxes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Really?  You think you will change the world with a funny drink-of-the-day calendar?
ME:  Pick a day, Mr. Bond.
Daniel Craig's eyes dart to me and then back at the phone, certain it must trigger a bomb or incendiary device.
ME:  Pick M's birthday, Mr. Bond.
His fingers scroll through the archive, and come upon the day.  He reads the special occasion for the day, and then the mixed drink to match.  A brief chuckle escapes his lips.  Absorbed, he explores the app, and does not notice as I disappear.
DANIEL CRAIG:  This is actually an amusing drink-of-the-day calendar, Ms...
He looks up, and realizes I am no longer next to him.  He whirls to find me standing behind him, one hand concealed behind my back.  His eyes narrow.
DANIEL CRAIG:  What now?
I smile, and hold out to him the drink-of-the-day he chose.  He eyes me suspiciously, looking me up and down, lingering on my amazing shoes.
DANIEL CRAIG:  I don't intend to drink that.  I have no idea what you might have actually put into it.
ME:  You think I gave you poison?  (I do the requisite evil laugh)  Very well, Mr. Bond.  I will try it first.
I take a sip, and then offer him the glass.  He just looks at me.
ME:  Oh for the love of pete, you are a suspicious fellow.
I offer him a chair, which he eyes suspiciously.  After rejecting three other seats, we sit on the front step, the dog watching us happily through the window.  I am still alive after five minutes by this time, and he reluctantly samples the drink.  He is suddenly happy, and he smiles at me, in that charming, minimalist way he has.
DANIEL CRAIG:  That is good.  And what a great app.
ME:  I know!
Suddenly,  his hand is on my throat.  His eyes are narrowed suspiciously.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Then what is your evil scheme?
ME:  (gasping through the grip on my neck) It isn't really evil, Mr. Bond!  I just thought people might benefit from learning about a fun holiday, or historical event, or cultural spotlight.  And everyone loves celebrating with an appropriate cocktail.
DANIEL CRAIG:  And the humor?
ME:  I'm a funny gal.
DANIEL CRAIG:  You expect me to believe you did this all on your own?
ME:  No!  I have a partner.  He knows how to do technical and web stuff!  But please don't choke him!
Daniel releases me and stands.  He goes down the steps slowly, lost in thought.  He turns, and I think he might have caught me checking out his ass.  He looks at the shoes again-- they are clearly bugging him for some reason.
DANIEL CRAIG:  One more question.
ME:  Of course, Mr. Bond.
DANIEL CRAIG:  How much does your app cost?
ME:  99 cents.  And you can get it for Android or iPhone.
DANIEL CRAIG:  Thanks for the drink.  I was thirsty.
He dashes off to save the world, or something.

[Daniel, if you read this and want to try our app, I would admire you even more than I already do, and would give you a promo code, so you could get it for free. Oh, and for those people who don't understand humor or satire, no, this is not an actual scene from the script to Skyfall.  Actually, it is.  And Daniel Craig wants YOU to buy the app.  Don't make him come after you...]

Conspiracy Theories

Wow.  It feels like a conspiracy.  Life, the universe, and everything is against me working on my book.  It is almost eerie.

(I like conspiracy theories.  I visited the alien museum in Roswell, New Mexico and became a member for a year.  I loved it.  It was hilarious.  Really.  I bought a cute t-shirt for their espresso bar.  On the other hand, I do believe Kennedy was probably just shot by Oswald, and Ruby was just irritated and had a gun, being a Texan.)

So, this is why I think there is a conspiracy working against my brain being in a work mode.

1) VIRUS FACTOR:  My son caught a cold...which he then passed to me...which eventually got my husband sick as well.  There is also a stomach bug flying around the neighborhood that has hit no fewer than three households with children my son's age.  I have actually done some cleaning--Clorox wipes are a mother's friend.  Really.  The urge to clean increases exponentially in presence of snot, diarrhea and vomit.

2) BEST FRIEND FACTOR:  My Best Mommy Friend and I got into a political disagreement.  (Not to be confused with Best Friend Actress--she and I have one complete brain between us, in that we might as well share it, since we have never disagreed on a single idea or issue or opinion.)  Anyway.  I was being my typical self and hyperbolizing, and got BMF going.  She and I don't see eye-to-eye on a number of political issues, which is fine, but I shoulda known better.  It is all good now, but it left me with an unhappy feeling, obviously.  Next, I actually had the opportunity to socialize this weekend... and GASP... I took it.  I met the Husband and some of his co-workers for Happy Hour in DC, and then we had dinner with Male Best Friend.  The next night, I met up with my two Arts Council Best Friends... or Best Friends Formerly of the Arts Council? We only groaned about the arts council for five minutes.  We laughed most of the rest of the time.

3) WEATHER FACTOR:  Okay, really?  The weather guys must fear the legions of school-age children burning them in effigy.  They keep teasing us with snow.  I want snow.  Everyone keeps saying that I am tempting the gods, but at this point, I would sell my gods to the highest bidder if it would get us even 4 inches that would stick.  Instead it has been bloody cold or bloody warm or bloody wet.  Huh, kinda sounds like winter, when I think about it.

4) CREDIT CARD FACTOR:  Our credit card got hacked this Friday.  We found this out while we where supposed to be in DC having a wild and wonderful time.  Thanks a lot, thieves.  Not only did you fucking spoil my night out, you also stole my credit card and forced a lot of phone calls, account checks, and tummy rumbles.  May Astomach virus find you and cause spew from both ends.

5) HUMAN RIGHTS FACTOR:  Oh, hell, I talked about this here.  Let me congratulate a bunch of white guys in Richmond, Virginia for choosing to lay off the minority populations for a bit and concentrating on suppressing the majority.  Yeah, morons-- women make up 51% of the population.  We know where you live.  We live with you, we take care of your households.  We are legion.  Or something.  Anyway, you don't want us to have birth control?  Fine.  You guys are officially cut off.

6) BAD SEED FACTOR:  Okay, the Boy isn't the Bad Seed.  But he has been so bad at his Friday after-school program that he probably won't be going anymore.  He got in serious trouble and that took quite a lot of attention.

7) APP FACTOR:  Well, this is kinda cool.  My neighbor and I have designed, developed, and launched a phone app.  It is cool, but it takes time to do the content.

8) STUDIO TOUR FACTOR:  I know, I know.  I volunteered.  But it is getting rolling now.  And my work is increasing.

9) SLEEP FACTOR:  I lasted with the up-at-5AM for like three days.  The Boy was getting up even earlier, and then I was having my usual trouble sleeping some nights.  And then there was the whole getting sick thing.

So, whine whine whine.  I know.  Poor me.  But seriously-- these things have majorly intruded.  I want to write.  I would love to write.  I am still writing, but only during the normal times, when the Boy is not here, and when I don't have a meeting, or am too upset about life, the universe, and everything.

Things are going well, however.  I finished the storyboard, and a list of tasks for each chapter.  I am making progress.  I am doing good work.  I guess I just feel like I am doing good work more when I have time to think about it.  I love it when ideas are simmering all day, or when I dash out the shower to grab my notebook or phone to make a quick note.  Now, it is taking me time to get there, and I am thankful that I have the edits to do, versus having to create.

I sometimes wish I could be alone for even a week, and just work on it, without thinking about my family, my outside projects, illness or anything else.  Just me and the computer, with a timer set to remind me to take a break to eat.

Fear

I don't know that I have experienced a low grade fear before.  Sure, I have felt a swift burst of terror when the car in front of me suddenly brakes, and I jam on mine, hoping that my car will stop in time.  And I remember dreading the moment my dad found out about... well, I don't know if he ever found out.  I feel anguish when my son wakes up coughing and screaming because he cannot breathe.  That happened just last week.

I am going to throw politics aside for a moment.  Whether you are pro-life or pro-choice, please feel the low grade rumble in my belly, the chills running down my spine when I can no longer distract myself.

Virginia just passed a law requiring all women who want abortions to undergo an ultrasound.  Initially, I was merely irritated-- it is medically unnecessary and expensive (especially since I suspect most insurance will not cover it).  It seemed like an annoyance, but oh well.  But then I read the details.  This is not the cold goop on the belly, rubbed in by the ultrasound wand.  The law requires a transvaginal ultrasound.  If you won't look at the picture, then know that a tube is inserted into the vagina and moved around to produce a lot of images.

I had one, once.  I remember discomfort, and thinking that if felt like a good size dildo was penetrating me.  I had mine for diagnostic purposes.  My doctor recommended it to me, my insurance approved of the procedure, and I participated in it of my own free will.

Now, women who have chosen to undergo an abortion for any reason will be forced to be vaginally penetrated by this unnecessary procedure... and if they choose NOT to look, they have to sign a waiver.  And then they still cannot get the abortion until after a waiting period.

I was outraged, and said so in probably over-emotional and slightly incoherent emails to my state representatives down in Richmond.  Still, angry and all, it didn't directly effect me, because I don't have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy, thanks to my trusty Mirena.

But then the House went one further...  They passed a Personhood Law.  Once sperm meets an egg, that cell is granted full rights as a person.  House Bill 1 makes it criminal to harm that 'person'.

Let me give you a rundown on how this makes me a criminal.  My IUD prevents implantation.  The practical explanation basically is that I don't build up the uterine lining a fertilized egg needs to grow (and I don't get periods!  TMI?  Sorry).  There is also a lot of cervical mucus, which sperm does not like.  No problem, right?  Well, see, it does NOT prevent me from ovulating.  So, in theory, one of my eggs, traveling through an environment utterly hostile to implantation, could potentially meet a sperm.

Do I think this is a form of abortion?  No.  Do I see this as a healthy alternative to taking BCP?  Yes.

Well, the Commonwealth of Virginia says otherwise.  "All stages of development" is pretty broad.

So, yeah, I am suddenly a little scared.  I took down a Facebook rant about it-- more because I realized I am too angry to have a coherent discussion about it right now.  I wanted to write another angry letter to my reps... and then wondered if they will be keeping a list of women who admit to using IUDs like mine.   So I kept silent.

And all of a sudden, I was terrified that I thought I ought to keep silent.  Low grade fear.  If this gets signed into law, will they simply prevent doctors from prescribing new ones?   Can a woman go over the border into Maryland, Washington DC, or West Virginia to get one?  Or will she be charged upon crossing back to Virginia?  Will they go after women who already have one?  My Mirena is a 5 year implant, and I just got my new one a few months ago!

Maybe you think I am being melodramatic.  It could be.  I am an actress, after all.  But the fear I feel is real.  I joked yesterday about moving to West Virginia.  This is like The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood.  I have never felt like this, as an American citizen.  I felt sorry for American Muslims after 9/11, that they had to bear the brunt of so much unfounded and  misdirected hostility.  I have sympathized with gays for years, because their supposed 'sins' are certainly no worse than the average person's.  Likewise, I have been horrified by the news reports of human rights violations so prevalent in many parts of the world.  But I don't think I ever really got it.  Nothing brought it home.  This did.

In anger, I posted on FB,  "Virginia, get out of my vagina!"

Now, I think, "head down and shut up."

A Writer's Contract

I just spent four days at a writing workshop.  I have lauded David Hazard before, but I am gonna do it again.  It was amazing, and I learned so much, and this is the SECOND time I took it!  If you write, or think you might have a story to tell, go look him up.

There is a lot to talk about, but I am only going to address the Writer's Contract right now.

If I am going to acquire Space to Write...
WHERE:  at the desk
WHAT needs to be kept out of that space:  the email, the phone, the bills, non-writing work
WHO are the potential intrusions:  the family, the dog, work and volunteer associates  (I can avoid them all by just not answering the phone!)
WHEN will I write?:

• Primary time- Monday-Fridays, while the Boy is at school (8:45-11:15), as soon as I walk the dog.
• Secondary time- After Dean goes to bed.  If I CANNOT do the primary for whatever reason (meetings, doctor's appointments, etc.), I WILL use this time, even if it only for an hour or so.
• How I will make this happen:  I will get up at 5AM (when the Husband leaves) to do the other stuff:  the email, blogging, work and volunteer stuff, even the bills.  I will do this upstairs on the laptop, and put all the applicable materials in one binder with pockets, along with my thumb drive, so it is all contained and cannot take over.  So, I will have that stuff done before the Boy even wakes up, wanting to have his Mummy Cuddle Time.

WHAT are my objectives for my Writing Time?:

• Sunday evenings/Monday mornings, I will set the objectives for the week.  One of my goals for today, for example, is to create a task list based on my to-be-completed storyboard, with the end of May being my deadline.
• Minimum-- is there research I can do?  Writing prompts I can create or find?  Storyboard tweaking?
• Medium-- Am I working on incidents and scenes?  Am I expanding or focusing on characters?
• Maximum-- Did I meet all the goals and then some?  Am I moving forward?

It doesn't look much like a contract, but it has solidified some things for me. I felt a lot of pressure, because I had no time allotted for the non-writing stuff, but I still needed to do it!  It would make it tough for me to get into my zone...And the evening is becoming less of a productive time for me.  Getting old, I guess!


Now, how is this morning thing working out?  Ha!  I am bleary eyed, and every third word contains a typo.  My sense of humor is still in bed, apparently.  However, I have just checked off the second item from my early morning Task List. Tomorrow's task list will include coffee...