Toy Story 3

Oh Pixar, why are you so great?

I've loved you since the beginning Pixar, long before you got so cool with your little lamp hopping in 3-d. I got how brilliant and talented and amazing you were long before you did this on again off again romance with Disney. I mean, I get it - that mouse is cute in those red pants and who doesn't love a castle? But if you wanted to be with someone really devoted, you'd be with me.

JESUSAGECHRIST this is an awesome movie! Anyone else see it? Since my mom has left town movies out are no longer really part of the plan, unless one of us sneaks off while the other one hangs at home. As it was tonight. We've had a wicked rough couple of days that involve, uh, well - that involve stuff that can't be discussed on the internet much - let's just say it's a combo platter of wrenching anxiety mixed with crushing disappointment and some betrayal thrown in the mix. Delightful.

So I took myself out tonight. Dammit, that's what I did.

First stop - sushi dinner. Perfect alone meal, me and the sushi chefs laughing and relating while I throw back some Sake and beer and delicious fish. Or it might have looked a little more like me relating with my iPhone, some perrier with lemon and a very annoyed sushi chef enduring my 'handroll no rice' order.

Sushi chef:  Everything okay?
Me: Yea, sure. Thanks!
Sushi chef: Yea but everything okay?
Me: (confused)
Random person next to me:  He wants to know if you don't want rice on everything.
Me: Yes please. No rice.
Sushi chef: No rice on everything.
Me: Please. No rice. Thank you so much.

Me: looking like asshole because I didn't understand him.
Him: Annoyed.

How did I get okay from no rice? Jeasus.

Next stop, therapy~! Hooray! I do enjoy beating the crap out of the couch and screaming my head off. It's seriously good times.

Last and final - Toy Story 3 for some laughing and crying (not kidding) and delicious popcorn at the Arclight where they use real butter don't you know. Those people at the Pixar really know how to tell a story and they have the technoweenie wizardry to back them up. Luckily there were some good laughers there in the late night showing, so I didn't feel alone in my belly laughing or the sniffling.

That is - my friends - one of the best g'damn movies I've seen in a long time. Screw the animation category, they should win it all next year at the Oscars.

Here are some pictures that have absolutely nothing to do with this post. It's an argument for taking the kid out to dinner though, he was a blast this day at a Thai restaurant where he pounded vegetable curry and cucumber salad. He's a fantastic eater and I'm gloating while I can. I know, karma works fast.

Your friend in the appreciation business,


PS - Thanks for your comments about my lil' green facelift - appreciate it! I'm probably going to be fancing this place up somemore soon, stay tuned.

Fantasy Island

When the super sappy stringee opening music of Fantasy Island filled our parquet-floored living room, my little bare feet came a runnin'. My grandmother lived with us when I was a wee one in the 70's and this was her 2nd favorite show, The Love Boat being the top winner. But if you remember (ahem, shout out to the old people) these shows were back to back and so it was a Saturday night winning combination. My little brother and I felt pretty lucky to stay up late and watch in our soft PJ's on our creaky leather black couch.

For those of you playing along (I clearly like this phrase) I've been naming my posts after movies for some time now and right now you're thinking - dude, why mess up that amazing run of creativity and magic by naming this one after a TV show? To which I might answer, well, in honor of the Emmy's tonight, I think I should give TVland a little love. But instead, I have a better answer. Fantasy Island the movie is in development and allegedly Eddie Murphy will play the Ricardo Montalban role, among others. Among others? Oh comon'. Please don't. And furthermore, since this article announcing the film is from 2007 it looks like no-one else thinks this is a good idea either.

So two paragraphs of blah-blah just to get the title of this post justified. But thanks, I do feel better.

So what do I want to say about my Fantasy Island? Well. When I go there, I definitely want Ricardo not Eddie greeting me, and I want my visit to solve the epic dilemma that's putting the squeeze on my heart right now with a magic trill of strings and pretty 1970's film. Here it is. So as you know, I want to have this life, this amazing life of directing feature films and oh shoot, okay if I must-for-a-paycheck direct-TV-shows-preferably-HBO hour-long and whatever the heck else sounds fun to me. Award-winning doc? Sure! AND. And, I want to be here full time for the adorable BHB. Sounds like a great plot for a cloning movie doesn't it? This is the true definition of a dilemma as it is not solvable. And it's got me staying up late typing to you.

Tomorrow I'm going to do another shoot, the 2nd time since the arrival of Mr. pouty lips. This one is for a mini-doc that is going to be used for promotional purposes for our short film which as you know is promotional purpose for our feature film and if this is reminding you of a nesting Russian doll I think your brain is amazing Just like mine. The movie inside a movie inside a movie.

So what is my issue, you ask? Tomorrow is the first day I'm leaving smoochy with a babysitter all day. 'Cause the handsome hubs is part of this process of course and so he and I are both going out to do the shoot. And yes, truly, the gal who is coming is lovely. And awesome. And from Texas so she's all kinds of good in that sweet girl big probably used to have big hair kinda way that I know and love so well*.  But does her adorableness and the fact that the baby seems to just love her help with my anxiety? Oh no. My lip has gone out in a prep-the-pout look all day when I think of him here, wondering where the heck we are, all day -pining for my bad singing and hilarious bookreading with the occasional tummy time while I check my email but not for long I swear. And all of the pumped milk in the fridge that awaits their time together only makes me feel the tiny bit better.

To cheer myself up, I'm offering up some more of my faves from the recent trip. Hope you enjoy..

Roadside feeding just after a little rainstorm. Photo Credit: Cute hubs 


Contemplating new backseat buddy.

Enjoying the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco

heartbreaking job of staggering proportions

I've always been an excellent crier. I'd consider putting it on my resume if it was somehow considered a good thing to anyone at all besides me and waterproof mascara marketers. Growing up I always got the feeling my Mom didn't really like my cry-baby ways, and thought it was sorta mean of her and boy don't you know I took that to my therapy bank of childhood wrongs. In fact I featured her in a film that I made about this hot topic called "The Girl Who Couldn't Stop Crying".

Or for faster service, here it is:



So I imagine this won't the the last time I say this, but, I kinda get why my Mom was that way.

(space for emphasis!)

Because hearing that boy cry his little guts out makes me want to stab my eyeballs and run into traffic. It's freakin' devastating. Little dude has been on a bit of a crying jag at night, not so much during the warmth of the day where it's mostly cooing, gurgling and general good baby stuff. But when the sunset show starts and we rev up our bath, singing, changing, feeding and book reading routine, he looses it. I mean, whoa. Based on the screeching and wailing you'd think some terrible baby-hating person is hiding near by and shooting him with rubber bands. You laugh, but I check.

My usual PE routine is to hike either in the morning or evening just about daily. And boy-oh-boy don't you know these warm summer evenings are just cracklicious with the lingering light and cooling-down-the-city breezes. Just beeeoyutiful. But seeing as how we're supposed to start our "please baby go to sleep" routine around you know, 6 or 7 it's seriously cutting into my hiking time. Damn baby!

Tonight I went anyway, because I have a bad attitude clearly.

This is a shot from a recent hike, you can see how ridiculously cute the little bean is hiking along in the Moby wrap.

So anyway, the bedtime went late, the crying party started and that's my point I guess. As I was driving home the short distance from the mountain to my house he started up and it quickly escalated from 'huh' to 'what the hell!' to 'what the f is your problem lady!' and was so committed that he produced REAL TEARS. Oh people, really. At 3.5 months old, I really haven't seen this much yet and when I do it's too much for one heart to bear.

To try to appease his hysteria, I pulled over and changed his diaper on my lap. Unfortunately this little party trick is about to be done because he's just too damn big now. So while simultaneously kicking me in the milk machines, and doing a suicidal back bend, he screamed and screamed. Good times. So by then I'm crying hysterically and wishing I still drank alcohol, (ooooh, fun topic, stay tuned!) but instead carefully drove home to get some back-up from the father figure.

Because when he gets into that crying machine, with the punctuations of wails and thrashing, my heart turns inside out. You know how you bend a pomegranate in un-natural positions to get all the sweet little pods out? Like that. So my juicy little heart pods are strewn around my car and house tonight, and I am hard pressed to remember a time in my life that has been so bittersweet.

Btw - just want to give a little shout out to the followers that are now following. Hot damn! That's really cool and makes me feel just a little bit better about my existence. Thanks for slowing down this existential crisis!