My mom started chemo last week. As per usual, she is the most upbeat about it out of everyone in my family. I’m told that the prognosis is actually quite good, and that the chemo is sort of a covering-all-the-bases way of making sure that in the unlikely event that her cancer spread anywhere, it ain’t gonna get far. My mom says that at least it might inspire my little brother to finally get a haircut.
My sister Jessica had her appendix removed on New Year’s. Until a few weeks ago I was under the impression that it had been a simple in-and-out arthroscopic job, and she was back on her feet in a few days. Apparently not. She was home from work (she is a grade-school teacher) for six weeks and developed a blood clot in her arm. I’m told that she is on the mend, and her and her boyfriend’s plan to move to Seattle this summer is on track. So that’s something.
I attempted to cut caffeine out of my diet yesterday. (pause as I take a long sip from the large Diet Coke I got at Subway…) That lasted just long enough for the headache and nausea to kick in. I’ll try again in a couple of weeks.
The second draft of the book I wrote for NaNoWriMo is progressing at a snail’s pace. I have no idea what I’m doing, really. At this rate I will be lucky to have made any kind of progress by next November.
The good news is that on Saturday we leave for Puerto Rico. Mandy’s mom is taking us on a Caribbean cruise. It is, in fact, the same cruise we went on for our honeymoon, which is weird, but we picked a whole bunch of different excursions so it won’t be the exact same trip.
Also good this year? Battlestar Galactica. A few mid-season stand-alone episodes aside, it was a hell of a thing to watch, and last Sunday’s season finale left my mind a little blown. In a good way. I can’t believe I have to wait nine whole months for the next new episode.
Rogue 8 Issue #3 had a successful run, and even extended a week, and I got a lot of positive feedback from the cast. Unfortunately it’s probably going to be the last issue – or at least the last one that Dan writes – so I doubt I’ll get to do it again. But that’s not to say I won’t direct at all again. I feel pretty confident that I’ll get more opportunities in the future.
I also have another fight choreographer gig which opens next month. It’s a disturbing little post-apocalyptic play called Mercury Fur, which has a nice bloody melee in the finale. Brass knuckles, knives, crotch kicks and pistol whipping. All in a day’s work.
So far, it’s been a hell of a year. How’s yours going?