TIME WARP - post knee surgery
So it’s a week after my surgery. Yeah. And, uh, my knee hurts and stuff.
But that’s okay. I felt an ACL in my left knee for the first time in 12 years last night while on my knee-bending machine. Granted, it’s an ACL from a cadaver, but one nonetheless. I took two vicodon for that traumatic experience.
I wonder, with cell memory and all, if I’m going to start adapting the traits, thoughts, or memories of the person who gave me their ligament. There was that one horror movie (I can’t find the name) and a rom com with Minnie Driver and David Duchovny about this sort of thing, but we know how Hollywood gets with their interpretation of stories depending on their dramatic merits.
I don’t want to be addicted to pills or anything, but they were quite generous, for once, and made sure I had enough dope (thanks, mom). Strangely though, I was a “he-man” for not pumping my morphine tap more. I guess I thought some pain was only normal and then that was probably a lot more than most people can take. I have a high threshold for pain.
Except for yesterday at the doctor, where they finally cut away the bandages so we could really see the damage. I mean I caught a glimmer of a staple or felt a trickle of blood, but this was the first time I’d really seen it. The doc took his needle nose pliers to my clammy wound and yanked out every chunk of metal holding together my knee.
When I finally took a good look, my wound exploded and blood spurted out. Though the doc assured me that was meant to be since the surgery day itself, I couldn’t handle it—I got all thirsty and faint, so they had to haul me onto the examining table and put a cold cloth on my head. It’s one thing to watch others bleed, but to watch oneself is the challenge…
Anyway, I really have my hopes up for maybe winning a fellowship with ABC in LA. I notarized and sent in Fibre for the features program, then was asked to send in Mother’s Little Pill (an MOW) as a writing sample for their daytime television program. That request was a result of the MOW getting finalist in a TV writing contest.
They always say you should win contests to break in. So there ya go, another screenwriting secret to the “industry”… I would like either fellowship. But I’m sure competition is fierce and I know Mother’s Little Pill probably has 2 more drafts (at least) before it’ll fairly compete with what other really good screenwriters write. But we’ll see.
I want to thank my brother Joshy Poo and my mommy for taking care of my in my time of need. It’s hard enough for a wild child of independence, such as myself, to ask anyone to help me. But I figured this time was ideal since I had the insurance and my “writing” career hasn’t taken off just yet. The point is that they were very kind to take time away and deal with the very chemical imbalances my roommate Boris found threatening since he had to make a punk ass comment about it every five minutes. It makes me mad just typing about it.
But from my time of need, I now know who my real friends are, thank you very much.
I am starting a new script soon called Southern Trash, where even Elvis ain’t this tacky. I’ve just outlined the characters and their relationships, since it’s an ensemble about a bunch of trashy couples trying to win a trailer in a local contest. It’ll be hilarious. Jesus had already been cast.
That just means I’ve put hollow and Bias on hold as I actively work on my book, tweek my MOW, and spit out pages for Buds: the one script I’m most anxious to see done. It’s the one I want to shop around as a little indie I can direct myself. I could do it super low budget, though ideally I want to shoot it in 3-D. You heard it here, folks, a stoner comedy in 3D. But unfortunately, I have to write what comes out first, kind of like creative diarrhea or something.
So that’s my Friday so far. I love Smallville, the O.C., and ABC daytime television or Disney features.