Cute animals need a good talking to

Yes, my blog has become as navel-gazing and myopic as the worst of them. But for those who stumble across my blog, and if you dug into it, you'd know that my real intention isn't to garner readers, but to simply house a personal diary.

And, going into the holidays, I'm feeling as misanthropic and depressed as I have ever found myself. But enough of that bullshit.

Sometimes you just need to laugh, especially at this time of year, and this person's blog might be the consistently funniest shit I've seen in ages. Go here to see why penguins are evil, cuteness is to be suspected at all costs, and laugh your ass off.

Everybody Loves a Happy Ending

In my previous life, I worked as a reader for Hollywood production companies. This supported me while I tried to achieve my big screenwriting break, which never came, despite how close I often seemed to come.

But as a reader, I was rather in demand, one of the few people in town who, not only made a living at it, but could do it through only two companies in my later years. That was pretty impressive from a freelance perspective. It afforded me the ability to get married, get a mortgage, have a child. Pretty decent for a freelance life, though I'm thrilled not to do it anymore.

Anyway, in all those years of critiquing scripts and books, doing notes on projects, and being a low-level critic, there was one project that I loved more than all the rest: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I did countless notes on early drafts of the script, written by Robin Swicord (Little Women). But it spent ages in development hell, starting and stopping, with millions spent on the most expensive writers in Hollywood, even though Swicord's script was the most beautiful thing I've ever read. It seemed destined never to be made.

When David Fincher eventually attached himself, it was mystifying. Eric Roth (Forrest Gump) as the new writer made sense, but in conjunction with Fincher... huh? But now Brad Pitt was involved, and... it was getting made!

So after 10 years, I saw the film. I won't say much about it, though I did love it. It lived up to the expectations, and left me often in tears. The production was sumptuous and beautiful, and it created a love story that's difficult to pull off in film. Truly, a great love story is not easy, and Fincher of all people pulled it off without too much sentimentality, which Roth is easily guilty of.

But what is more interesting tonight is how the themes of time passing, irreversible, really meshes with my life. I stood on the Paramount lot, surrounded by gorgeous Christmas lights and a fifty foot Christmas tree - the epitome of Hollywood glamour - and was easily reminded of the days I used to have in this industry, which I let go of. Whether out of failure, or exhaustion, or frustration, or the sheer lack of enjoyment... all of those are factors. But, movies are in my DNA, and they are part of me, but these experiences are now few and far between. The only reason I was there is because I still work for Kennedy/Marshall on the side, just because I need the cash with my ex's employment problems. I literally need the money. It's not because I'm important or somehow valued... I'm just on the standard list. Granted, K/M is one of the best companies in Hollywood with a reputation for quality, so it's a great list to be on once a year, but still, it was easy to see just how outside it all I am.

And, for the most part, I'm happy with that. Hollywood's a shitty place, no question. But at the same time, there are those moments, where you see that time can't be reversed, that you have opportunities that pass or are taken advantage of, and then they are gone. That's what Benjamin Button is about, and it couldn't have been more evident if there was a neon sign pointing to it.

Incidentally, there was an absolutely stunning redhead at the premiere. Beige boots, straight hair, probably 5'5. I was captivated by her. If I had balls - which I clearly don't - I would've gone up to her and told her that she was beautiful, and that I'd love to take her for a drink. I even thought of it, though she spent the entire night with a couple of guys. Not exactly an opportunity to approach someone. But at the end of the night, she walked off alone, not with the guys. I could've chased her down, regardless of the fact that she was probably too young for me. But I wish I had the courage for that kind of thing.

Just like the movie said, there are opportunities that arrive, and you take them or you don't. This one I didn't.

But after 10 years, I'm glad that someone took the opportunity to make that movie.

Heights and Fears

No, not the name of a Keane album, which I believe was "Hopes and Fears".

Today my department had a team building event at a ropes challenge course, where you do trust exercises, leadership building, teamwork and the confrontation of fears. I expected it to be fun, but I didn't expect it to be meaningful. It was both, but the latter was perhaps more notable than the former.

It started with a game in a circle where we had to reach for bandanas dropped outside the circle, but we couldn't touch the ground between the circle and the object. You needed to figure out how to leverage body weight across great distances to retrieve the bandanas, which led to team-building dynamics and a real sense of accomplishment. This was followed by a severe rock-wall climb, perhaps the first of my life, and holy shit, that's an upper-body workout. When they tell you not to rely on your arms... believe them. They can't last as long as your legs.

Next was a climb to a horizontal telephone pole 40 feet high, with two teammates coming from opposite directions and needing to cross each other to get to the other side. It requires creativity and trust, and my teammate and I cleverly decided to go over and under rather than around, and did it without falling (anyone who fell was kept 100% safe by belay ropes at all times).

This was followed by the biggest leap of faith, literally. Climbing to a 50 foot platform, only 2 feet long, 6 inches wide, the pole wobbling insanely beneath you. Then you had to leap to a ring that was 6 feet away. Not a long distance, but at 50 feet, it takes tremendous courage. It was a remarkable experience, though I'm a bit disappointed that others went to the "Manmaker" - the same thing, except no platform, just the top of a telephone pole - but I had thought we were getting a chance to do both. I wanted to do each, so felt like I didn't fully push myself to the end. But the day's highlight was a woman who reports to me, a sweet, wonderful 30 year-old Asian girl with a terrible fear of heights, who went to the top, and managed to jump off. She missed the ring, but that wasn't the point at all. With tears pouring down her face, she stood on the edge of that platform for 5 minutes, getting the courage, and then... doing it. She felt like a failure, but she was the hero of the day - and everyone saw it. It took the most for her to accomplish what she did, and she was a total rockstar.

Interestingly, the moderator asked us all to assign to that challenge an idea that they wanted to work towards - something they want to improve in their lives. So the quiet introverts on our team said they wanted to "be more outgoing and direct", etc. At first, I asked if we could keep our mission private, but then revealed what it was for me: to adapt and learn to be okay with being alone.

It's getting harder, rather than easier. The months of insane busy-ness in my free nights have faded away, and life has returned to its regular routine, but as a solo rather than a partner. It's lonely, without question, and learning to be okay with that is a constant challenge.

Amazingly, at the top of that pole, the wood shaking, my legs shaking, wondering if I could do it, that thought actually was a crystallizing moment. Powerfully leaping for that ring, into the void, hoping for the best.

My hands latched onto the ring, holding tight.