Run, Forest, Run

I'm just now understanding the importance of the brunch venue from Sunday. James, Marlon, Dale, Russ and I had just run the first ever Carpe Diem 10k in Santa Monica, ending at the pier. It was so much fun. And of course later we were hungry. So we ate at the restaurant on the pier which happened to be Bubba Gump's Shrimp Co, named after the reference in the movie Forest Gump. Everything in the restaurant refered back to the movie or to running. I suppose I was in such a daze after running 6.2 miles, I didn't really notice at the time.

It was a really fun race, mostly along the shore looking out over the foggy ocean. I also enjoyed running past lots of nice boutiques with handmade jewelry in the window. Maybe that's why my time was a little slow. The last 2 miles were slightly downhill so I enjoyed picking up the pace quite a bit. I came in at a cool 1:10, which is great for me. I have never been fast (on my feet) - ever. And that race was no exception. BUT I had so much fun, I am sure I will do it again soon. There is the Mud Run coming up in June......

Mr Show

Our show Friday night was...interesting. A study in why I am not comfortable in charging people money to watch improv. The night was a train wreck. Most scenes went on too long, there was a lot of negation. It was generally a nightmare. but we did OK considering we only had 3 people. I ended up being patient zero with the uncommon cold, who had 2 spines and got sold to the circus as Mdme. Chernobyl. It was fun and we got some good laughs. Poor Mark. I dragged him to go see it and he was very, very nice about it. But I mean come on - the show was crap. He paid to see crap. Oh well - it's all a crap shoot. Ha! Pun.

Why are Creative Executives in existance?

They are not creative. They are executives. Usually minus a tie, but they own several. Even the women. It's a left-over from an ill-timed Annie Hall wardrobe phase. They thought they would look more powerful, but realized they just look frumpy. There are currently 3 levels of mandatory notes levels here at the Studio. Those 3 levels are being whisked out the door as I speak. But that they ever existed is a mystery. Who were these strange and mysterious Creative Execs? And why were they there? Some day, we'll all look back on this and laugh. Like the Edsel.

MiniSpa

If you're a boy, you don't know this. Many womens' restrooms have neat, fluffy things. Things suchs as hand or body lotion. Perfume samples. Air freshener. Most of these items are of a pastel hue. I hear that mens' restrooms are loud and smelly. Like an alley. It must suck to be a guy.

Hunt the Grunt

Somewhere in our den, there lies an undetected poo.

Duncan braved his third and probably final radiation treatment. He's doing great! Dr Cretin said he looks good and his weight is OK. We thought he was constipated, but Dr Chretin says he's empty. Either he's not eating or, "you'll find it eventually." Guess what we're doing tonight????

Meowstrong, Duncan!

102

Today is Sidney's birthday. He was born in 1904.

Sidney lives across the street in a house he bought in 1950. His daughter, Iona, lives there too. She's a retired nurse who takes care of Sidney. We see her from time to time, having a cigarette on the porch, or through the kitchen window. When we woke up Monday morning, the paramedic truck was outside. A police car was down the street. No one was moving very quickly. We've seen the trucks there before. A couple of times, Sidney's heart had stopped, but the paramedics revived him and he went on to enjoy his 100th birthday celebration and the year I grew extra tasty tomatoes.

This time was different. A police officer stepped out to the porch to make a phone call. She scribbled notes on her clipboard. She looked down at the ground. A slight drizzle started to fall. The west horizon was dark and cloudy, a sign of a dreary day ahead. The paramedics drove off slowly, quietly. The police eventually left. Iona stood on the porch and light a cigarette, staring at the ground.

I walked over in the drizzle and gave her a hug. "He didn't wake up," she said. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

It's never easy. Never.

Good night, Sidney. And happy birthday.

Fat any other day...

Today, being Mardi Gras, I think back to all those years I gave up something for lent. Usually cheese. I thought it was a wonderful testiment to my incredible will power. But as time creeps by, I notice that I am both less willing to give up something for lent and less likely to have incredible anything. Although I apparently came up with a brilliant idea. I was asking Chris the Director of the Dog movie hoe hw planned on decorating the new office. He was explaining his plans for little areas that look like shacks (like in the movie) with tiny doors that people have to crawl through. "Like doggie doors," I said. Apparently, he hadn't made that connection before. His eyes grew wide as he gasped. "A doggie door!!!" He told me I could have free drinks forever in the pod. I reminded him that he doesn't charge for drinks. I'm still hoping to get a decent job offer out of it......

Farewell, Fussy

Last week, I learned of the sad passing of one of our dear feline friends, Fuschia. Even though he had been sick for some time, it was still not easy to take. He was in my mind a fixture - in his house, in his relationship with his humans. And he left a void, which most assuredly will be filled with memories. I try to remember that life goes on, the world keeps turning. But beginnings always mean endings somewhere along the way. And endings are rarely easy. Peace out, dear Fuss-Fuss.

It made it all the harder to drop off Duncan for his first radiation treatment on Thursday. ut our little boy did great! He now has a big X on his tumor. I like that it looks like a target. The oncologist said that he was a dream under anesthesia, meaning his vitals were good and strong. Only 2 more treatments to go then a possible debulking surgery. It is a really big tumor. I hope they can take some of it out safely. Even though I know it will grow back. But I'd just like to see it be smaller. And Duncan is getting very light. I'm trying to get him to eat more, which he will do. But not on his own. Odd that. He used to eat everything in sight. And it's not his appetite. I think he just gets tired of eating. I have those days sometimes......

Here We Are Again

I took Duncan to the vet yesterday. He's generally fine except for the enormous tumor on his neck. But we're once again faced with the dilemma of making choices. I'm not really sure what to do. We can just let the cancer run it's course, or perhaps do a little radiation and a de-bulking surgery in hopes of reducing the tumor. At this point, it will become very large and ruin his quality of life. That's the end we're looking at. And it's not pretty. He'd probably take surgery well, he did last time, but who's to say? What should we do?

Dixar

My Dad called at 11pm his time tonight to ask me how the Pixar Disney merger will effect me. We don't really know yet. But I know this conversation will change:

INT. Chili's Restaurant, any suburb, USA. Bad lighting surrounds the sights and sounds of 1998. Two women chat under fluorescent lights.

Heather: So, how's your job at Pixar?

Me: Disney.

Heather: What?

Me: I work at Disney. not Pixar. Different companies. Pixar is in the Bay area. Disney is in Burbank.

Heather: Oh. Ok. But you worked on (last Pixar film), right?

Me: No, that's Pixar. I worked on (last Disney film.)

Heather: I never heard of it.

JUMP CUT: INT. Chili's, any suburb, USA, 1999 and each sequential year. Same conversation, same fluorescent lighting every year.

CUT TO: EXT. Waterfalls, rainbow, beautiful landscape. Same two women talking in 2006.

Heather: So how's your job at Pixar?

Me: Great, thanks.

Highlights!

Tweeked

So I tweeked my back last night. Normally it's something you do and you go "ow" and you recover and then you don’t think about it anymore. But this is different. This is one of those injuries you have for the rest of your life. In my later years, I'll think back to that time in the “oughts” when I tweeked my back – that started it all. That’s what this is! And it was so silly I was just lowering Duncan to his food bowl in the middle of the night. As you do. And it’s so strange. That’s going to be it – one big back injury And that’s the beginning of the old, decrepit, body breaking down. Or it will be like that scar I have on my shoulder from Beasley, my cat who scratched me as I picked him off the street after being hit by a car. It will be the one I remember. That will make me remember the time I was taking Duncan to his food. So what will it be, a memory or a handicap?

Little Duncan had a great day. He's had his fluids and his medicine. He's been running around today like crazy, rubbing his face on the driveway and chewing catnip. I'm so glad I was able to give him a garden with catnip. He loves it. He hit the litter box with a vengence then fell over on the rug - exhausted. It was a good day for Duncan.

No More Chemo

We took Duncan in today for his 3rd chemo treatment. But the vet called just after 10:30. He said Duncan is very spry, BUT...

I knew that wasn't a good but.

The tumor is definitely bigger. 30% bigger. In just 3 weeks. That's 10% a week. The oncologist did not want to continue with chemo since it would be a waste of time. I decided to go straight for the Peroxicam and see what happens with that. The meloxicam seemed to reduce at least the swelling of the tumor, but we had the constipation to deal with. But looks like this is the only course we have left, besides herbs and maybe some voodoo.

And little Duncan is just as happy as ever. Meowstrong little Duncan!!!

Bye Bye Hey-Zeus

It's a sad day at the McGarry household. Our Jesus at the Last Supper clock finally went south. I think the guys that put in the new windows bumped it or dropped it or something. It just hasn't been the same. As in it stopped working altogether. So we're going to take it down and give it a proper send off before we trash it. I'll miss the way it would play Handel at each hour. No clock will ever be able to take it's place.

My Fair Lady

I am in hell. Not the sort of hell I ever imagined. The sort in which you are a captive audience to the antics of a young, pretty, ambitious person who only makes eye contact with those who might be of service to you. Either physically or career-ly. Additionally, she is incredibly stupid. I know, I know, that will get you EVERYWHERE in LA. Here's a snipit of what I just heard:

“Oh my god, I was like, signing, like, remember? Like, singing? Like running down the hall, singing, like, running??? And I was like singing that like song from that movie where they sing...what is it? Oh yeah, like My Fair Lady. (singing) I feel pretty...oh so pretty! Yeah, like that, and everyone was like laughing 'cause I was running and like singing.”
This is what is wrong with humanity.

Not so much that every single guy came out to the hallway to watch the pretty-stupid girl talk, but that I had to listen to it happen right outside my cube and there is not one damn thing I can do about it. And I have to pee. But I can't get to the bathroom without getting roped into this conversation, as it were. No, that's not the bad part. The BAD part is the fact that this girl spews the word "like" like a frat boy vomits at Mardi Gras. Notice the correct use of the word.

And so here is my homage to pretty-stupid girl:
"I was like listening to you like sort of like talking and I decided that you like sort of in a way like suck."

The End.

Last Day of this pathetic year

I hate 2005. And I'm quite sure it hates me back. Not long after New Year's Day 2005, I discovered the first of Duncan's tumors. His front left leg was amputated February 21. We cancelled our Ireland trip to run the Connemarathon since we felt we couldn't leave Duncan alone quite so soon. Russ was in the hospital for 2 days with a still unknown malady. I spent most of the summer trying to get an unwelcome person out of my life and just as soon as that was over, Duncan's cancer returned. Yay! What an excellent year! Let's do it again.

As I stand on the brink of a brand new year with new possibilities, I shudder to think that things could actually be worse. We will most likely lose Duncan this year. Russ will run a 50k in two weeks and will hopefully survive. My job on Wilbur will come to a close, and hopefully I will get picked up on the next movie, but at any rate I will be facing yet another ending this year. Maybe this year is just going to be about endings. And thus beginnings.

Speaking of beginnings, check out the new Ricky Gervais podcast. It just started this month. Hilarious. On your local iTunes.

My other beginning, will be a big cleanse fest starting tomorrow. Who doesn't begin each new year with some diet or exercise fad. Russ and I independantly decided to go with super foods, juices, no fried foods, no alcohol, lots of water for 2 weeks. He's doing it for his race, I'm doing it because I feel crappy.

Last day of 2005 - rain in LA.

Ready, set...2006!!

Extreme!

I have been Extremed! I was on extreme Homemakover last night.
I didn’t see it, but Russ did. On Halloween, they were here taping Ty Pennington running around the second floor of our building at Disney. I was up there and was trying to hide by the staircase because I didn’t want to be on camera. It was Halloween and I was in my Kirby the alien costume – head to toe in Maroon fur. But because I was in costume, Ty came running over to me and started asking me questions on camera. And apparently I’m the only one they kept out of the all the stuff they shot at Feature Animation. It’s just me saying “The Big Guy?” in response to his asking where the big guy is. How weird is that?


And Duncan came through with flying colors in his chemo!!! YAY! And the tumor is smaller. YAY!! Good boy Duncan!

The Me I used to Be

I remember once when I did stand up comedy, someone told me I would be much funnier if I were uglier. He told me, "You should get in a car crash or something. You know, smash you face up or something." Sage advice from some tubby, drunken loser of a standup. I wonder where he is now? Which bar is he slumped over? Years later, I did a series of sketch comedy shows at ACME theatre in LA. Those were the golden years. My favorite and best received show was called "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Sunday Show" with TV's Wil Wheaton.

Looking back on Wil's blog and the linked blogs to Shane Nickerson and Annie Sertich, it's inspired me to write like I used to: for the funny. Sure introspection is fun, but comedy is MORE fun. If I can just remember how to write it.....and photograph it. Pictures = funny!

Last Day of Shiva

As the sun sets on LA, I am reminded that it is the last moments of shiva for Caryn. I knew her from dance class. She was an incredibly emotional dancer who often talked about her various acting projects. Last week, I heard she had died suddenly from some type of infection. In the mail was her website. I had never really checked it out before, even though I had discussed it with her and received several emails about it. But now, I look at it often. I never knew how much Caryn liked gardening or that she had written many recipes for a variety of vegetarian meals. I wish I had looked. I wish I had known that part of her. I wish I could ask her questions. Such as why didn't I get to know her better when I had the chance.

http://www.caryn.com

Up Chuck

So, maybe Meloxicam is not such a good idea. Dang. I felt like the tumor was getting smaller. Or at least the tissue surrounding it. But Duncan was definitely getting constipated. And he had 2 bouts, one severe, with vomiting. After looking Meloxicam up on the WORLD WIDE WEB I discovered a list of things:

1. Meloxicam is not approved for feline use
2. Cats are sensitive to NSAIDS in general
3. Meloxicam is renotoxic - Dunan has chronic kidney failure

So, maybe Meloxicam is not for him. Will any of the NSAIDS family? The steriodal type of anti-inflammatory would not even be a consideration, which leaves us with out a viable option for anti-inflammatory, specifically a COX-1 blocker.