In Your Face(book)

I set up a Facebook account last year in part because it was fun and in part because I knew it would be a great way to stay in touch with friends once we left. I encouraged my sister to set up a page too. So, I got a friendly ration recently from her for abandoning Facebook. I liked Facebook -- Facebook didn't like me. Here's what happened. When I changed our email address, which is more daunting than changing your blood type, I attempted to set up Brenna's Facebook account and mine with the same email. DON'T DO IT! I had heard something about it not working, but it just seemed so dumb not to be able to have more than one account per email. That's what different passwords are for... right? I thought I'd at least try it and when it didn't work I could say, "well that's dumb, but at least I tried." Who's dumb now? I changed my account over to the new address. No problem. Changed Brenna's -- the new email and different password. No problem. I'm thinking, "there you go, this is as it should be." I tried to log back into my page to post an update that would have been something like, "Bob Redpath is enjoying a beautiful spring day and wanted to let everyone know he has a new email and can't wait to spend more time with you all on Facebook." Instead, I saw this window... I tried to log in under my old email again. Same window. I logged into Brenna's account and ALL traces of the former me are gone! It's like the CIA came in and erased me. Photo tags, groups, friends -- GONE. I woke up the next morning and my fingertips were sore. I think someone was trying to erase my fingerprints too. Don't mess with the Facebook.

A Bottomless Bowl of Spaghetti

Work at Warner Bros. ended a couple weeks ago. I'd have loved to finish the full season of "In the Motherhood," as would many others working on the show, but it wasn't in the network tarot cards. I realize a lot more thought goes into a network TV schedule than just tarot cards. In fact, the other day I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of suit clad junior executives chalking off a grid in the parking lot at ABC before the upfronts. An, apparently, more senior executive was leading a cow in their direction, which evidently had some tough decisions ahead of it. Later that day I drove past again and saw the same two junior execs with a shovel and a broom -- and smugly satisfied looks on their faces. Last seasons' TV divining rod was retired for obvious reasons.

Even with the extra time off to prep, I'm not sure that the list of things to do is getting any shorter as June 22 nears. It's like that bowl of spaghetti when you're a kid -- it seems to grow as you eat. By the end of dinner you're stuffed and staring at a full bowl of spaghetti. Your mom says something about you not being very hungry and you wanna scream, "I just ate spaghetti non-stop for an hour, it's not my fault the bowl still looks full!"

While the list does feel like it's getting longer instead of shorter, things are happening. Yesterday we looked out the window and saw a man putting a for rent sign in the front yard. It drives me crazy that the sign is crooked. It's one of the hundreds of things I need to learn to let go of.Today I saw people driving slowly past the house writing down the Realtor's phone number. I wish I could help pick the new tenants. The house has been nice to us and I'd like to return the favor. But, I know it's not up to me.

We're still selling stuff on Craigs List and piling things in the car for a charity garage sale. Another car load to the garage sale.Anytime friends come to visit, we say things like, "Take the fondue pot home with you, we'll throw in the unopened five gallon jug of Costco Mazola," or, "Are you sure you wouldn't like an armoire... and a minivan?" No one leaves our house without an armload of books. This morning we sold the kids' bunk bed right out from under them. Literally. I had to wake Owen up so that I could take it apart. The bunk bed used to be against this wall... And Owen used to be on top.They get to "camp" in their room for the next month. There's a dumpster in the driveway and a portable Public Storage cube coming tomorrow. I have more good-bye get togethers, that I really want to make happen, than I have days left.

I've spent hours online researching European mobile phone plans, train schedules, counting to ten in Serbian and purchasing/leasing/renting/stealing a car. I saw Brenna's fist clinch, and she got that Clint Eastwood squint in her eye when I said, "Hey, instead of leasing a car, why don't we ship ours to Europe? I hear it doesn't cost much. Then all we have to do is change the tail lights, install rear fog lamps, maybe a new speedometer. Figure out taxes, insurance, license plates..." I wonder why my bowl of spaghetti never gets any smaller?

Balancing Act

Balance. Ironically it's one of the things we're seeking for our family as we sell our belongings and move, voluntarily  jobless, to another continent for a year. It's been too long since we've posted a blog, and aside from how busy life is getting just trying to prepare for the next year, I just finished working on a variety of television pilots. Long hours. Long weeks.

Pilot Season has always been the storm before the calm for my family. Post production folk all over Los Angeles bid farewell to their families and dive into pilot season. We know this is, likely, the last work to be had until the Fall. At the end of it we say goodbye to each other and hello to our families again (usually sleep for a day or two to catch up) and try to figure out how to re-insert ourselves into life at home once again.

Several years ago Brenna and the kids started leaving town to visit family during pilot season -- they're in Arkansas right now. Yesterday, I found myself sitting on the Warner Bros. lot on a Sunday, my first day off in a while, eating a sandwich in the middle of what used to be Stars Hollow, or Hazzard County if you want to go back a little farther, and might well be Eastwick, Rhode Island next year. I woke up to an empty house and couldn't bring myself to do any of the thousand things I should be doing to prepare for June -- as in the month after May, the month we're in right now. When I left the house to get lunch I didn't intend to go to the lot. Even as I left Togos with my sandwich I thought I was heading for a nearby park to sit and eat. Somehow I ended up back at Warner Bros. and it occurred to me, this is why I'm going so far away to seek my balance. The cosmic pull of the routine is stronger than my own free will. It's all I know -- what I've done my entire adult life. It's time for balance. Or maybe just a new obsession...

I Knew I Shoulda Been A Lawyer

Here's an article in the New York Times today about a law firm who is paying their employees $80,000 to take a year off work, and a woman who is using the year, and the money, to travel around the world.  The law firm says they're quite surprised at how many people decided to take their offer.  

In unrelated news - Here's an article on how to buy a Harvard Law degree by mail for $58.00.  Just in case you've ever a need for one...

We bid Farewell to the Great Haiku

We bid you Fairwell

Haiku Garage Giveaway

Thanks to the poets!