Category: blog

Oh man, I am so $!@%^&ing sore from doing the yard this weekend. I gave myself tendonitis in my right arm (yeah, the poison oak one…I swear, this arm is going to try and secede from the rest of my body) so it is swollen up to almost twice the size it normally is…I look like a freak, but in a good way.
In the continuing saga of writer-slash-actor: My manuscript is still with my editor. He’s given me some very useful notes already, and I’m hoping to have the whole thing back by the end of this week. Sadly, it will not be ready in time for Xmas. 🙁
On the actor side, I have an audition today for “The Polar Express,” which is being directed by Robert Zemeckis, and stars Tom Hanks.
Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing you are, “Tom Hanks and Robert Zemeckis? Why the hell are they asking to see me?!”
I have no idea, but it should be an interesting experience…I haven’t auditioned for a major motion picture like this in quite some time.
Oh, and I have punk rock blue hair right now, because I figured there wouldn’t be any auditions until after the first of the year…uhh…oops.
The second shipmeent of 8x10s goes to the post office in about 30 minutes. If you ordered last week, you should get yours in a few days. I’ll get to work on the third shipment (orders received since Thursday) when I get back from my audition this afternoon, and they should all go out tomorrow or Wednesday.
UPDATE 3:53 PM PST: Well, I totally punted the audition. The pain in my body from the weekend is so severe (my arm is so messed up I can’t even grip my steering wheel in my car, and my back has been spasming all day long) that I just couldn’t focus, at all, and I sucked.
Shit.
I saw the tests for the movie while I was there, and I’m pretty sure that I’m not allowed to talk about specifics, so I’ll just say: this will be an amazing and beautiful movie. What I saw was a perfect 3-D rendering of the art in the book.
When I left, I walked down the hallway with my head hung. I’m really sad, not because I’m missing out on a job, but because this movie is just going to be so beautiful, and so amazing, I really wanted to be part of it.

Back in spring, a pipe in our front yard’s sprinkler system burst. We tried to water the lawn by hand all summer, but we failed miserably and it died.
Long story short, we decided to put in new sprinklers and grass, and the whole process took the rest of summer, and all of autumn.
Yesterday, thanks to the the shockingly popular 8×10 sale, we finally laid down the sod, and turned our horribly ugly dirt lot into a beautiful front lawn.
Anne and I could never have done this on our own, and I want to publicly thank my friends and family who came over and spent their Saturday putting down almost 3,000 square feet of grass:

• Darin. You arrived at 7AM, and stayed until the sun went down. In addition top helping out, you kept me calm, each time I was sure we were doing it wrong and everything would die.
• Shane. Even though you had a wedding to attend in the afternoon, you came and helped. Your Cal Tech brain was most useful in ensuring we did our work as efficiently as possible. Good call on “The Buddy System.”
• Jeremy. I didn’t know you had to work in the afternoon and evening, but you came and helped anyway. Thank you for making me laugh hard all day.
• Jenn. I still can’t believe that you worked while we all ate lunch. You were the last person to leave, and you helped me clean up the driveway. Thank you.
• Mom. Finally, you have first-hand experience being that “ditch digger” you always warned us against becoming when we were kids. 60 feet of trench is 59 feet more than I could have done on my own.
• Michelle. The layer of sod, the leveler of ground, the bringer of Krispy Kremes.
• BURNS! You helped us all morning and well into the afternoon, and then went and worked a long shift last night. You’re always there for us when we need help, except for that one time you forgot…but after yesterday, we’ll never speak of that time again.
• Dad. I’m glad that you didn’t kill yourself surfing, and that you came all the way to our house from Rincon. The caution tape clearly and politely says, “Stay the fuck off my new lawn, you little creeps” to all passersby.

As I stood in my driveway last night, looking across my beautiful new lawn, I felt a pride in my house that I haven’t felt in over a year. It just looks beautiful, and we never could have done this without the help that you guys gave us…and that’s the best part of all of this, IMHO: you guys all gave up your Saturday to help us out, and you all worked harder than I ever expected. You guys are awesome.
Thank you.

We are in Santa Barbara. It is November, and Anne and I are here for our anniversary, walking back to our hotel after the first romantic dinner we’ve enjoyed in months.
Though it is Saturday night, this normally crowded street is nearly deserted, because it is pouring rain. A cold, relentless rain that soaks into my shoes and clings to my body. The cold cuts straight through me, numbing my hands and feet.
The few people who have chosen to brave the storm are huddled in doorways and under awnings. Anne and I share a too-small umbrella in a futile attempt to stay dry.
It has been a wonderful evening, ending a wonderful day. We haven’t gotten to spend much time just enjoying each other’s company, just being together for several weeks, and I am cherishing every rain-soaked moment.
The storm intensifies as we hurry back to our hotel, turning downspouts to waterfalls, and the street into a small stream. Normally, the urge to stomp in puddles is irresistible to me, but the numbness is creeping up my legs now, and I need little encouragement to leave the puddles alone.
After a few blocks, the cold and rain is too much for me, and I suggest that we stop, and hail a cab.
Anne stops, and looks at me, her blue eyes gleaming. She says they’re green, but they’re blue…I see them whenever my mind wanders, so I know.
She steps out of the small shelter our umbrella is providing, and stands unprotected in the rain.
“I want to walk in the rain!” She declares.
“But it’s 40 degrees!” I remind her, shivering. A few passersby look at us as if we’re having a fight, and I chuckle to myself. They couldn’t be more wrong.
“I don’t care,” she tells me, her hair falling down and clinging to the sides of her face, her jacket darkening as it absorbs the storm. “Someday, I’m going to want to walk in the cold rain, and feel it on my face, and I’m not going to be able to. So I’m going to do it now.”
She reaches out and touches my cheek, and pulls my face to her. She leans towards me, kisses my nose, and walks away, her face cast upwards, her palms turned up to receive the rain.
She stomps into a puddle, and turns around.
“C’mon, you weenie! Walk with me!”
She is so beautiful, so joyous. The storm threatens to draw a curtain of rain around her, obscuring her from my view. Though she is twenty feet from me, I can see her beaming and feel her joy. She positively loves this.
I watch her, happily standing in the rain. In this moment I know why I married her. I know why she is the other half of my heartbeat.
But it’s 40 degrees. There’s no way I’m giving up this umbrella.
I lean against the rain, and close the distance between us. When I draw near her, she reaches out and knocks the umbrella out of my hand.
As it falls to the ground, she takes me in her arms. She pulls me to her, and kisses me.
“I love you,” she says, rain dripping off her nose onto my face.
She does love me. It’s one thing to say it, and one thing to hear it, but it’s another thing to feel it.
“I love you too,” I reply.
We stand there in the rain for a moment, looking at each other. We are soaking wet, freezing cold, and desperately in love.

So the poison oak I got while geocaching two weeks ago is finally on the way out, leaving behind some spectacular scarring on my arm.
The best thing? I was using this Caladryl lotion the last few days to really dry it up and stop the itching, which it did…unfortunately irritating the hell out of the rest of my skin, and causing a rash which itches just as badly as the poison oak ever did.
Adding insult to injury, my geocaching log notifier sent me a notice yesterday that someone logged the cache I was trying to find. I wonder if they got the bonus poison oak? =]
So I went to the doctor this morning, and he put me on prednisone for a week, and gave me an ointment to calm the rash.
Oy. Vey.
Put up the Christmas lights last night, and have a great story to go with it. Working on it now.
I think it’s going to be a really wonderful holiday season this year.
Very astute readers will notice that I’ve moved the sale info up to the top of the page, so I can keep writing and keep people informed about those exciting holiday gift opportunities. =]
I sent the first 30 8x10s this morning, to places like Austin, the UK, Germany, Puerto Rico, and the far off hamlet of Burbank!
I’m running out of Iron Maiden shots, but there are still Stand By Me and Red space Suit pictures left.
Oh, and if you haven’t seen the entire Special Edition of Fellowship of the Ring, you simply must get offline NOW and go watch it.

I really like Thanksgiving.
I love gathering with my family, spending the day with people I don’t get to see very often, and sitting down for a massive dinner that I didn’t have to cook.
Is there a better time for a List Of Seven?
Today, I am thankful for:

1. Creative energy, used to bring Joy into the world.
2. Seeing my cousin Dustin today.
3. My invitation to the Cast and Crew screening of Trek X
4. Finally looking back on my teenage years with more joy than regret.
5. My wife cuddling me because she loves me…not because she’s trying to stay warm.
6. Ferris, when she looks at me and says, “What?”
7. I am thankful for this website, and the readers who have come together from around the world to share in my stupid life, riding the roller coaster of success and failure, triumph and despair. I know for a fact that I never would have grown from struggling actor-slash-has-been to aspiring writer-slash-actor.

Our extended Thought For Today comes from Bob in Iowa, Katie’s father:

What I Am Thankful For
———————-
I am thankful that my daughter’s surgery went smoothly and successfully. Her kidneys will not develop horrible problems later in life, and a small scar is indeed an easy price to pay for her health.
I am thankful for the skill of the pediatric urology surgeon and the team that worked on my daughter. Their skill has proved in her case, as in many others I’m sure, that disciplined modern medicine is something that we should all be glad for. I am thankful for whoever the person or team was that invented the careful system of moving around and passing instruments in the modern surgery room. I am thankful for whoever the person or team was that sterilizes those instruments at the University of Iowa Hospital, and indeed in all hospitals.
I am thankful that my daughter’s recovery has been as impressive as the surgery itself. She is home now, running around like a precocious 16-month-old should, and she will be able to enjoy a Thanksgiving Dinner with her family.
I am thankful that my daughter is running around like a precocious 16-month-old, and I will try to remember that the next time she gets into something that she knows she shouldn’t or knocks something over. I am thankful that she will continue to grow up healthy. I am thankful that I have a daughter.
I am thankful to Wil Wheaton, who responded to an email I wrote at a time when I was at my worst, my most desperate. That simple request, which was fulfilled despite Wil’s having absolutely no obligation to, lead to an outpouring of love that not only affected me very deeply and helped my daughter in a very real way, it seems to have affected everyone involved in some way.
I am thankful to the complete strangers who, upon reading the entry in Wil Wheaton’s blog, made a simple choice to take a moment from their day and send some love my daughter’s way. I swear to God that I felt it, and I believe in my heart that it helped both with the surgery and with the swift recovery. I just wish there was another word to describe a person whom I have never met besides “stranger”, because that name is so ill-fitting to the people who took the time to help my daughter.
But most of all, I am thankful that despite the horrible things that we see every day on television and read about every day in newspapers, there is enough love in the world to selflessly help a little girl in need of love, and that we really are a loving and caring race. More often than not, we seem to forget what we really are. I am thankful that this opportunity arose to remind us all.
Thank you all for your compassion and kindness. Katie is recovering wonderfully, and I don’t doubt for a second that all of your goodwill and love is a MAJOR reason for that. I really cannot thank any of you enough, other than to say, “Thank you.” May you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving surrounded by family and friends.
– Bob Roth, WWDN fan