An official first grader....

Reason Number Twelve why my son grows to be a Serial Killer:

Daddy didn't come to his graduation.

"Talk is Cheap!"

But the boy did me proud. Graduating from kindergarten is a very tricky thing now days... It takes more than you think. Brains and beauty... Which I think we can all agree - the kid gets from his mommy...

Another long day yesterday.

Started at 8 - got back to the Hotel at Midnight. Granted - the last hour was trying to find some dinner... But it was all good. We tried to get into a Japanese Steakhouse - but they close the kitchen at 10:30. Got into Logan's Roadhouse - a wonderful establishment - where they close the kitchen at 11. We made it under the wire.

We had "Angie" as our waitress - probably the most amazingly talkative person I have met in awhile. She would open her mouth and not stop talking until we would physically push her away from the table.

If you closed your eyes - she sounded like Brittany Spears on her most Trailer Trash day - but if you opened them - you can imagine Brittany's future if she has about 6 more kids - stays married to Kevin and smokes 5 packs a day.

The boys ordered beer - so she wanted to see some ID's. Tommy asked how old she thought he was - and she countered by asking how old he thought she was.

Bad start.

There is no way to win here. Either way - it became apparent that for more than 3/4ths of the time we were to be there eating - her mouth would be running.

I told him afterwards if he would have guessed a young 50, she might have left us alone.

When Bill and I first arrived here on Thursday - we pulled into the warehouse we were to be building the set pieces at. We went into the furniture shop at the other end of the building to ask where we were to be working at - and the guy there really had to think about it.

"Uh... Well... You might wanna... Um... Well. Let's see...I think you wanna go to the... What's that called..."

He points off to the left - I look - and there is just a wall. I look back to him, confused...

"What's that called...uh... What's that called...What's that called...Hey! Jimmy... What's that called?"

Literally. I had to hide behind Bill to keep from laughing. And three dots between phrases does not even come close to the real pauses he put in the sentences.

He said "what's that called...?" over 8 times in a row.

If we hooked him up with the 50 year old Brittany, someone would combust.

Welcome, my friends to somewhere outside of Greensboro, North Carolina.

OTHER NEWS:

Thanks for the thoughts and prayers - but the infection somehow did not reach my Dad's heart. After 5 days in the hospital, they sent him home. He still has to get IV antibiotics 4 times a day at home for a few weeks - but we feel we are out of the woods.

Spent the entire day yesterday taping off a Nascar with plastic so that we can cover it with spray foam today. Once we pop off the mold - we will cover the car with trees and shrubs and have a plant car...

This is how I spend my days... :)

Would love to say that I have been busy breaking my story even more - but I have been a bit to tired to think.

Good luck to all jumping into the 14 Scriptwriting Contest that starts today. I was thinking bout joining - but then I got a job...

No news on the film yet - but I do plan on talking to someone from Sam Raimi's company today.