My wife has a job. She's employed. Not only that, but she's living in that most blissful of hours: hired, but not yet working. The job-hunt pressure is off, as is the work-day pressure... for the moment, anyway.

She's been hired as a server at a country club here in Long Beach. So, at the very least, we can now pay most of our bills. It's called Virginia Country Club and, thankfully, it pays full health benefits. So cheers to Carey Bear for coming through for the family! Hip hip hurrah!
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What else... ah, yes. Check out the latest script, if you can stomach it. Sporting a stylish title from none other than Dave & Renee Reinke of Worthington, Ohio... I give you: The Trouble with Sleeves. (I'd wanted to do something along the lines of an earlier script, Diff'rent Drunks, for awhile [i.e. something lawsuit-worthy], so there you go.) Thanks, Dave & Renee. Next time we're in town, the Coronas are on me.
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Yesterday, Carey and I purchased California car insurance. Let me assure you: she ain't cheap. Back in ol' Ohio, I had several speeding tickets on my record and we were fully covered. These days, I've only got one lingering ticket, which will be off my record come April and we're shivering down in Minimum Coverage Land. And, would you believe it, it's still far more expensive, just because it's California. How does this happen? Was there some sort of state-wide town meeting 50 years ago?

CITY COUNCILMAN: Gentleman, let's make tonight's proceedings short and sweet. I've got an early tee time in the morning. Madame Secretary, the first item on the agenda?

MADAME SECRETARY: Yes, sir, Item One: Legislation to make everything in the great state of California more expensive than anywhere else.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Ah, yes. Are we all familiar with this bill? Can we go ahead and vote?

MAYOR WHOEVER: Eh, if I may have some clarification, Council... we're proposing to inflate the price of everything in California. Insurance, living expenses, property, rent, groceries, clothing... everything. Is that correct?

CITY COUNCILMAN: That is correct, Mayor.

MAYOR WHOEVER: And for what purpose?

CITY COUNCILMAN: Welllllll... I don't know. Because we can, I suppose.

MAYOR WHOEVER: Okay. Just wondered. Continue.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Very well. All in favor?

EVERYONE: Aye.

CITY COUNCILMAN: Opposed?

EVERYONE: ...

CITY COUNCILMAN: Vote's unanimous, bill is passed. Madame Secretary, next order of business?

MADAME SECRETARY: Yes, sir, Item Two: Legislation proposed to allow all California mailmen to behave as abusively as they see fit...

Ah, who knows. Back to insurance, though: we are a bit nervous about this minimum coverage business. Wrecks happen all the time around here. In the past month (and, sadly, this is no exaggeration) two major collisions have happened right outside my window. (Both of them while I was typing Blogger entries, oddly enough...) I'm talking hardcore, grisly accidents... bits of hair and blood in the windshield and all that... ick.

I think it's because the streets here in Long Beach were devised by some sort of psychotic booby-house refugee or perhaps an orangutan. It's I-M-P-O-S-S-I-B-L-E to make any sort of right or left turn with any level of certainty here. All parking is on the street and most streets are one-way and there simply is no such thing as a Point-Of-Vision, so even right turns out onto any kind of major road are, by necessity, accompanied by a string of Hail Marys. You just never know. It's a numbers game, frankly, and one of these days our number will come up.

And, yet, we only have minimum coverage. Sweet Lord, protect us.
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Working on a whole bunch of websites and other arty little doodaws, so hopefully I'll have a slew of fun things to post in the portfolio section soon. Oh, and I'm still working on that screenplay. I'm really stuck on this one scene right now, though, and it's making me crazy. I'm seriously considering a reevaluation of a couple of major plot points right now because even I'M getting bored with a few of these scenes... when your own script bores you, that's probably not a good sign.
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A very happy birthday to one of my favorite sisters in the whole world, Erin Bear Burtoft. Today (whoops... look at the time... I guess it's yesterday at this point) is her 25th. You never forget your silver. Speaking of forgetting, though, I forgot to call. I'll make a point of dropping a line tomorrow. Jeez, I'm such a prick. Sorry, Erin. You know I love you, baby, but I'm way too self-centered to behave like a decent human being. At any rate, hope 25 is the best year yet. XOXOXOXO

And, speaking of birthdays, my wife has unsubtley let me know that, indeed, her's is coming up in less than a month (Oct. 20, as it happens), and she does have a wish-list on amazon.com. For those interested, said wish list can be found here. Let the shopping frenzy begin.
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I'm off to bed.