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.