A Day Off

I went to Sav-On (including that E would have bankrupted them, I guess) and bought a wrist support and an ice pack. The wrist support was a strange gauze type thing that "massages" and keeps the area warm. I wore it as I drove around.

I went to Paramount Studios to meet Edgar for lunch. There was some kind of party going on there -- there was nowhere to park. I had to give my keys to a valet so he could double-park me.

Edgar and I went to the Paramount Commissary. We talked about what we'd learned in the past year, since leaving De Anza. He wants to go back and lecture to students about what they really need to know about Hollywood. He talked some about his new projects, which include producing a friend's screenplay (which he's helping to develop).

After lunch, I found my car and headed across town to Westwood to meet Tiffany for coffee and pie. I wanted to pick her brain about an idea I had for my Homicide spec that I needed a believable medical explanation for. (What is this, ER?) I bought her lunch and myself a small treat and she gave me wonderful ideas for my story. Yay!

She also took a look at my hands and ran me through a series of exams to see what the problem was. "Does this hurt? Does this?" She narrowed it down to probable tendonitis. Which was better than hearing it was wrist-centered.

After seeing her I drove over the hill and home.

Darin and I spent the evening bonding by opening up every box of comics we had and beginning the slow process of sorting them by title, deciding which ones we wanted to keep, and putting them on the bookshelf we'd earmarked for comics. We discovered very quickly that half our comics fit on the shelf. The other half have to go somewhere else.

I can't believe this. I honestly believe we are going to run out of bookshelf space in this house, because I still have about 6 or 8 more boxes of books to go through.