Yesterday was our 8th anniversary. G celebrated by going to her baby doctor while I was in school, and even though she wasn't scheduled for one, the doctor gave her another ultrasound. He was having a bad day and he wanted to make somebody happy to make himself feel better. Isn't that nice? Anyway, doc says that G is having a "nice, boring pregnancy." Zero complications, weirdness, etc. She hasn't even been getting ill (since switching to taking her special vitamins in the evening) at all. She gets tired more easily, but that is it. Anyway here is the picture of the little creature whom we have been referring to as "The Talking Walnut." (This is from the film Bad Santa. The pathetic child in the film, Thurman Murman, seems to think that there is some sort of being called The Talking Walnut. This is never explained, but apparently the Talking Walnut controls all, much as this Talking Walnut will control our lives. "Now I don't want an elephant at all. I want a gorilla named Davy for beating up the skateboarding kids who pull on my underwear and he can take his orders from the talking walnut so it wouldn't be my bad thing." I STILL don't know what the hell he is referring to.) ANYHOW . . . all is going very well and it's full speed ahead.

I ran over after a meeting at school to meet G at Miceli's for a little anniversary dinner, a little pasta amidst the dangling chianti bottles, very nice, and then I went off to a world premiere at the Cinerama Dome. It was for a The Cutting Edge, a documentary film on editing which opened the Hollywood Film Festival. Most enjoyable. I actually got to walk down the red carpet and everything! Sat with my school's production dean during the flick, which was very well done in most regards. There's a great moment when Scorsese says the editing in Breathless is "too hip" for him and I agree 100%. It was great seeing all these editors walking up the red carpet and getting their pictures taken by a small group of photographers. This NEVER happens, never! NOBODY knows who editors are, and if we're doing our job right, nobody even knows what we do! Afterwards there was a reception; I had a few beers and met a couple of folks, most notably a hero of mine, Anne V. Coates, and if you don't know who she is, well, you're just proving my point about nobody knowing who editors are. Anne cut Lawrence of Arabia, among 50 other films, and it was a great pleasure to be able to shake her hand and express my admiration for her work.

Today we have Master's Sminar at school with a film called Stander, directed by Bronwen Hughes, who will be on hand to answer questions. Then it's a brief dinner break and right into a screening of Vertigo; supposedly another hero of mine, films restoration genius Robert Harris, will be on hand to discuss the sparkling restoration of this great Hitchcock film. Life is good.

Yesterday G and I went to Disneyland to celebrate in advance our 8th anniversary. My school schedule precludes a nice dinner out on Tuesday, the actual day, so we made use of our Annual Passes to one of our most favorite and fun spots. G can't ride some of the bumpier, faster rides because of the baby, so we went on some of the more gentle ones, and she kindly waited while I partook of the Indiana Jones and Big Thunder Mountain attractions, two of my favorites. (Indy in particular is a fantastic experience. I have been on it many times and every time is as fun as the first.)

Soarin' Over California we both enjoyed, but like apparently almost everyone else in the park we were most excited to go on Haunted Mansion Holiday, a complete refit of the Haunted Mansion done each year by the Imagineers to make the Mansion a playground for Jack Skellington and his friends from The Nightmare Before Christmas. It is just fantastic, wonderfully funny and cool, a great treat and we will visit again before Christmas time.

We finished our evening with a nice meal at the steakhouse located in the Disneyland hotel, and then I laid down the seats in the Element to make a bed for G to snooze on for the quick drive home. I LOVE this car. Especially for its versatility; I can think of no other vehicle that you can turn into a bed for a quick nap -- something that comes in quite handy for those 15-hour days at school.

How about those Red Sox? (Warning: link may be too intense for younger viewers.) God, what a thrilling game on Friday! Bring on the Yankees. Not that I will be able to watch much of the games this week because of school.

Speaking of school, this week is the quiet before the storm. My schedule is very easy for the first time all year, late afternoon and evening classes only. Production on our first round of short films begins this week, which means beginning next Sunday I will be more or less sealed in the editing room for almost all of every day for about 10 days. I am REALLY looking forward to it. That said I am savoring the easy schedule this week. Last week was great. We had a visit from Frank Darabont, who brought a shiny new print of Shawshank Redemption for us to watch. Afterwards he answered our questions for 90 minutes and then he hung out outside for the better part of two hours chatting with students. A very, very nice man.

Friday's presidential debate had me in a screaming rage. Bush's cocky, swaggering frat-boy manner made me want to vomit. Strutting around like a pint-sized rooster . . . and the balls on this little peckerhead. The way he was red-faced and hollering early on, I swore he was becoming unhinged. He's back on the bottle, I'll guarantee it. The fat is in the fire. Soon the heavy coke use will begin again, if it hasn't already -- that first debate, his eyes swivelling in their sockets, the jaw spastically clenching and unclenching -- yes, all the signs of a vicious cocaine abuser were on display.

A day after a report comes out which states in black and white that Iraq essentially had no WMD program for more than ten years, and that the reason for this was that sanctions were preventing Iraq from doing so, Bush tries to turn this around and claim that even though there were no WMDs, Saddam was still an imminent threat because he was trying for 10 years to get around the sanctions. Eh, what?

And this shit about Kerry "flip-flopping" on the war makes me sick. "He saw the same intelligence I did," Bush says. Well, this is just untrue. After 9/11 the administration pushed the intelligence community for a link to Iraq because an entry point into Iraq has been on the wish list of these thieving, lying, evil bastards since at least 2000 (see this hideous document, which stresses the need for US military forces to encorach into every corner of the globe, specifically in the Middle East, and prepare for the blood-chilling assertion that it would be hard to galvanize public support for such a policy "absent some unifying event like Pearl Harbor"). The intelligence services returned with the finding that there was no credible link between 9/11 and Iraq, as is public knowledge today. But the executive branch was not satisfied and sent them back, sending the message that, in essence, they should come back when they have something to prove Iraq was involved and posed a clear and present danger to the USA. Thus, the half-baked pile of cockeyed assumptions and intelligence findings which were the basis for the vote on the use of force in Iraq were concocted at the behest of the executive branch which has repeatedly been briefed on the lack of a link between Iraq & 911 as well as the absence of WMDs. So while it is true that W and Kerry "saw the same intelligence," the president saw a lot more of it that didn't agree with the course he and his ideological puppetmasters were hell-bent on pursuing. Furthermore, the president's (I refuse to capitalize it!) assertion was that any entry into Iraq would be as a last resort after all other avenues had been pursued. Although George, Dick and Don claim they exhuasted all reasonable avenues, everyone else in the world disagrees.

And don't get me started on the VP debates. I was disappointed in Edwards, a little; I would have liked to see him be more forceful, and both he and Kerry too often resort to sloganeering when this administration is so very assailable on their crooked policies and practices.

I find Cheney nauseating, perhaps the worst public figure of my lifetime, a man who makes Nixon look like Peter Allen. He slithers out of his scum bag every few days to croak some bilious personal attacks and then back into his rancid hole he goes. During the first presidential debate, when Bush made a complete ass of himself, I had images of Cheney staggering around his living room smashing things in a rage at his sock puppet's behavior, like Orson Welles in Citizen Kane when Susan finally leaves him.

Today playing a little catch-up in the morning. Woke with very stiff feet from our long day at the parks. Just had brunch, two eggs in a little olive oil, a small portion of grits with a little parmesan cheese and a chicken sausage with coffee and juice. Now some tidying up, some planning, and then it's off to school for some lab time and an editing class.

Not a hard day at school but a busy day indeed; we are working with ProTools and we have two workstations for 14 students, so we have broken into little groups. This means time for catching up on other work, or in my case, some personal affairs and errands. Came home for lunch, went back for my group session at 1-2:30, then went shopping for a few things, mostly stuff for G to take for breakfast and lunch, as the poor thing works 6 am - 2:30 and cannot be expected to prepare her own lunch at 5:00 am. Ate some etouffee for dinner when G got home, plus I cooked her some blueberry muffins. The it was back to school for our introductory editing workshop, where we will focus on the aesthetic aspects. It had its good side and its bad side. So far one of the only beefs I have about school is that the schedule is so messed up. We editors have a more rigorous class schedule than any other discipline and quite often the school fails to work the classes we all have together around our schedule, or vice versa, and nothing gets addressed until one of us brings it up. That was the case today. On top of that, tonight's class was on the schedule until 10:00. At 10:30 one of the instructors cheerfully informed us the class goes until 10:30, or later if needed. (In my opinion, it didn't need to go until 10:30 tonight as we weren't analyzing anything -- but that's another story).

Our schedule at its best is insance. It's stressful to have last minute changes all the time -- one of the things I will bring up as class rep.

No to unwind with a little TV, some milk and cookies.

Just back today from New Orleans, where we attended the wedding of close friends Jimbo and Venus. In attendance were most of our good friends from Chicago, so it was quite a festive & drunken reunion party. I must say that I enjoyed NO extremely, although seeing Borubon Street at its height on an off-weekend permanently removed any desire to visit it on another, let alone at a peak time like Mardi Gras. It is simply on gigantic high-test kegger on steroids. I mean, the absolute permissiveness makes Las Vegas look like Salt Lake City. So it was a great trip, great friends, fun, and a marvelous wedding. The humidity was horriffic, though, something that just slays me; if we visit again, it will have to be a) a long time from now when the baby is a little grown; b) in the coolest month in New Orleans; and c) mainly about visiting restaurants because the food is extraordinary.

We flew in on a grotesquely overpriced United flight around 4:30 or so, and G freshened up while I immediately prowled the streets in search of strong drink. Fortunately there is no shortage of alcohol in New Orleans, which not being from New Orleans I refuse to pronounce "Nawlins." Anyway I consumed a large frosty hurricane while awaiting my lovely wife and we then wandered about the streets, stumbling onto a friend or two along the way and eventually getting to the rehearsal party.

Our festivities began properly at Zydeque, just off Bourbon Street, where a cornucopia of beer and delicious Cajun BBQ awaited us. Delicious and fun, with tributes to the happy couple throughout.

Butz entertained one and all, family and friends, young and old, with an ode to Jimbo the Groom's genitalia.

Ah yes, the booze, the bright lights, and the smell of garbage and vomit -- it can only be Bourbon Street after dark. Despite my better judgment I staggered out after the party along with the gang -- stumbling home hours later under the crushing weight of a gigantic frozen hurricane and incredible, beastly, life-sapping humidity. Genevieve had wisely retired hours earlier. We were awakened by the inexplicable sound of hammers clanking on the wall outside our 14th-floor hotel room. Painters at work, we later found out. I mean, my God, we couldn't have been the only drunken revellers seeking a little quiet at 9:30 on a Saturday?

The next morning, prior to the wedding, Genevieve and I enjoyed a brief walking tour of the lovely French Quarter, including the majestic St. Louis Cathedral.

We met our friends for brunch and G went off for a nap while I prowled the streets, looking for accoutrements for my jester costume (to lend a carnival air to the casual wedding) and to sample more New Orleans cuisine. Absolutely a mecca for those who like good food -- just come home prepared to diet!


Jimbo thoughtfully chose pink as the color for his groomsmen's attire. What a guy.

The reception was held at Rosy's Jazz Hall, and a splendid place it was indeed. After the ceremony a brass band led us in, and serenaded us throughout the cocktail hour. After dinner, it was time to kick it up with a zydeco band. Tremendous feats of dancing were had by all -- especially by Patterson.

Our friend Peter really got into the bayou spirit of the thing -- note the bare feet.

Jimbo and Venus seemed delighted with their nuptials as did all the guests. The dinner buffet was sumptuous and delicious, with all manner of New Orleans delicacies . . .

. . . for our dessert, chef had prepared a "Bayou de Chocolate," a chocolate fondue version of the bayou, complete with chocolate alligators. A delicious way to end the evening. Several taxis later, it was off to our various hotels to await the miserable wake-up at 5:00 am to get to the airport in time for our horrid 7 am flight. The row in front of G and I on this very, very full airplane was populated with very short people who nonetheless needed more room and felt just fine about slamming their seat backs into our legs. Naturally, I felt fine about pushing their seats back up. Glad this will be our last flight for a while. Got home, went to the store; inspired by our trip, I cooked up some shrimp etouffee and some cheese grits with andouille for dinner and lunch for the next few days; then made some cheesesteaks for dinner tonight as a last tribute to a gloriously junk-food-filled weekend. A memorable trip indeed.

Off to New Orleans . .

Today we jet off to New Orleans for a friend's wedding. Never been there, looking forward to it although we have to leave again Sunday morning at the absurd hour of 7 AM. That will be downright painful. But It will be fun, though brief, and I will post some pictures on Sunday assuming I have not been hospitalized.