2002-10-08 - 10:55 a.m.

Tony Soprano in my corner, Packer game, 1.44, new screenplay

Ummmm...geez. After the Stephen King-esque literary elephantiasis of my last entry I'm all worried that this one's gonna be short. Cause it is.

Yesterday I did not much.

The whole theatrical agent thing isn't over with. I talked to TonySoprano (my connection who's opening all the doors for me. I call him that because I feel like I have Tony Soprano on my side what with the results he's getting) and he's like "Agent 3 never called you back? Let me call them." Five minutes later who should call but Agent 3. New audition on Thursday. I was gonna buy this guy a card, or dinner or something. Now I'm thinking I'll owe him a new car. Seriously, Fairy Godfather here (well, more Godfather than Fairy).

Last night I went down to ChefsKey's for the Packer game. The good guys won. I ate waaaaaaay too much pizza. The best part of the night was the discussion of Jim Miller's average yards per carry. Dude has 2 yards rushing in his career, and his average is 1.44 inches. That killed me. We laughed for fifteen minutes. For the rest of the night the only number applied to anything was 1.44. "You want another 1.44 slices of pizza?"

So, then I came home, and tried to sleep, but I had a serious, nasty headache. So I got back up and sat down at the computer and cranked out about eight pages of a new screenplay. My vision is for the whole thing to run 15-20 minutes, so that's actually a sizeable hunk. It flowed pretty well, in a way that my writing rarely does. I'm trying to decide if I should work on it today, or wait for tonight. It has that insomniac insanity feel to it, and I don't want to lose that.

Now I'm out of things to say. Catch you later.