Maria Alexander News and Updates from TheHandlessPoet.com

My cat is now on anti-anxiety medication.

I've always thought that, if anyone would have to go on anti-anxiety medication, it would be me. But apparently my cat is crazier than I am.

The troublesome thing about this is that he hates the taste. He doesn't like it no matter how I disguise it. I've tried all the pill tricks, as he's a regular R.P. McMurphy when it comes to pretending to take pills and then spit them out. I now mash them up and put the dust in kitty crack (Petromalt) or butter.

However, neither of those tactics work for the anti-anxiety pills, of course. I tried sprinkling it on his dry food in the morning, which proved futile because he said, "Hey! That tastes funny. I don't have to eat it." Which I never thought he'd ever say in 2 thousand million years. So I added wet food and eventually he put it all down.

Baby food is my next option.

Dr. Doolittle felt this was a good step because Cairo's blood sugar seems to be doing fine, yet he continues to despoil the kitchen every day whilst I'm at work, open impossible-to-reach cupboards and otherwise behave outrageously. We'll see if it helps.

I am otherwise writing quietly and living grandly, thanks for asking. And as I have some time to write today, I'm swiping it and making away with it forthwith.

Philip José Farmer, a science fiction great, passed away today. Neil posted in his Twitter an In Memoriam written by Farmer's nephew.

Gone, yet immortal.

If you're a D&D player -- or ever were -- I highly recommend this movie. I laughed so hard I cried at least twice.

The weekend included much of this kind of hilarity, although it started with an excellent production of Shaw's Candida at The Colony in Burbank. It was only later that I learned the actress playing Candida stepped into a scene two pages too early at one point and accidentally cut out two pages of play. Oops! A mistake that would have been very much in character, methinks, in an annoying sort of way, except that the director had Candida doing her best impersonation of an undersexed school marm rather than the flighty creature I'd always envisioned. I mean, they call her Candy, fer chrissakes. Oh, well. I know nahthink.

Anyway, it also bears mentioning that, if you've not been to Descanso Gardens and you enjoy strolling amongst les fleurs, you simply must go. The camellias are in bloom now. Lord Arux and I even found a magnificent, redolent magnolia tree in the middle of the grounds. I wish I'd known what a peaceful place this was. I would have visited much sooner. As it was, the place was delightful. I bet in the spring it's just bursting with blossoms.

Progress on the new book continues at a vastly improved clip since I've committed to morning writing over evenings. I tend to self edit much less in the mornings, not to mention the evenings can now be devoted to things like the gym, laundry, eating and other important things. My sleep's been a bit ragged, so the doctor recommended that I not write before bed, anyway, in a desperate attempt to quiet my head. It seems to help a little.

The week promises to be action packed. Who's going to Forry's memorial?

My father turns 86 today.

He's still swearing, stomping around, waving his Greek-Confederate flag and generally endangering the populace with his bellicose driving. I suspect this will continue for several more years at this rate.

Here's hoping he makes another year without injuring anyone!

A beautiful video from the Courage Campaign. Watch this and tell Ken Starr to shove his legal briefs up his ass.


"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Hilarious!

But how does this child know 70s porn music?

::bow-wow-chicka-bow-wow::

The physical therapist told me this morning that I've set myself back three weeks with my shoulder recovery. I guess I've been engaging in innocent some new "behaviors" that have stressed my shoulder out. However, he's optimistic that it won't take three weeks to get back if I can be more aware of what I'm doing and continue my exercises. He gave me all new ones that are more challenging, which is terrific and encouraging.

But what really felt terrific was taking the wooden staff and showing him how I make fake deadly with a two-handed sword, which is what I suspect I'll be using in The Hunted episode. I also showed him some rapier movements. As he watched, I could see his mind whirring behind his eyes and he came up with some additional exercises to strengthen my rotator cuff. "We've got to get a sword back in your hand," he said. I wanted to hug him.

In other news, I've been torn up a bit about the whole issue regarding impersonality versus more personal sharing in all this social networking. (Thanks to Amelia for a great post on the subject.) A screenwriter friend once called me The Tori Amos of Horror because he thought my stories were confessional like her songs. They sometimes are. And I'm really comfortable with a certain level of openness, even online, where my every sputter and dribble is recorded for all of posterity. I've never been cyberstalked (not seriously, anyway) and I rarely receive what could be called unwanted attention. So it hasn't ever occurred to me that I should be more circumspect than I already am.

Until recently, that is, when events in my personal life bubbled up and I paused to consider whether I should write about any of them publicly. I decided against it for many decent reasons. I think I'll keep it that way for now.

But upon reading Amelia's post, I'm not sure that -- even if my popularity somehow started to geyser -- I'm comfortable being less personal. (Then again, I might get used to it fast under the right circumstances.) I like to use Neil as my guide in the blogging matter, but he's not a woman on The Google, and we all know The Google is Full of Crazy. Still, I like being me, and I think the people who read my blog and who like my stories would be disappointed if I was less me than usual. And at the end of the day, it's all about connecting with You, whoever You are.

B3 -- my Boss's Boss's Boss -- told me today that he follow my Tweets religiously. He said they're fun and they don't really give anything away. So, if you want to follow me, I'm "lamaupin" on Twitter if you don't already.

And that is all I need to say today.

I've been at a literary stalemate since I finished the last book I was reading, checking out Stoker Prelim Ballot work as I can. I've been plowing forward on the book, trying not to look back. I've decided to just start typing and not worry about polishing each sentence as I do when I write a short story. I mean, when you already know the plot, it's silly to get hung up. I've taken to drinking more tea and sleeping less, which is more or less by design.

Getting great feedback on "The Last Word" from Stoker people, which is awesome. I think that story just might have legs. If so, I'd personally flee as I know it's carrying a coat full of sharp objects and speaks in a persuasive voice.

Otherwise I've been not the least bit preoccupied with politics. For once, I believe that my president is trying to do the right thing and I'm happy to let him do it. You know, kind of like when you hire someone because you feel like they're qualified? And you let them do their job? Remember what that was like when it came to the Presidency? Yeah, that. I'm not worried beyond the usual stuff.

The usual stuff being that yesterday was the deadline for the over 600 executives at Walt Disney Parks and Resorts to decide if they're accepting Voluntary Severance Packages. If enough execs opt for the golden handshake, then they won't have to do involuntary layoffs. I'm just happy that Uncle Walt has recognized in my division that it's top heavy with chefs and even sous chefs.

Now back to the words.