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Well, here it is, the weekend is half over and I'm still up hoping to catch some Indians highlights and really considering the purchase of the Perfect Pushups. Did you know you can get BIG ARMS, a BIG CHEST and RIPPED ABS! There's no wasted effort, just perfect pushups. Designed by a Navy Seal, no kidding, yeah, and only two payments for 20 bucks.

That's not too funny, though. I vividly recall a night when I was up with Jake, it was around 2 in the morning, and I was feeling pretty low about myself. Next thing you know I was ordering a series of Yoga VHS tapes. I'll give you three guesses how often I used those tapes. Actually, there is one tape that I pull out on occasion. I've used that one tape some ten times in five years. The other four sit in a box collecting dust.

We were supposed to go to the beach today but Jake woke up with a 102 degree fever. He fought it all day and now, at about 11:30, it appears to have broken. We spent the day indoors, venturing out to The Candy Factory for some sweets and another time for some Tylenol that Jake refused to take. Sophie and I played some handball.

I spoke with Dana, my manager, this morning and she had some notes for my teen script that has a character with CF. She pretty much told me that the script was ordinary and that the focus should be the family with CF. Now, normally, having your script being called ordinary could hurt a writer's ego, but I've never... never received any notes about this script. The only comments I've ever gotten were "nice" and "well written." Yada yada yada bullshit. It's nice, no, refreshing to get honesty like that. That's why I signed with her. So, I have a lot to think about. As soon as we hung up I started visualizing how the script could be changed to alter the main storyline and make it work the way Dana proposed. This is the part of writing that I love, the editing and revising process. When everything is clicking, and so many ideas are flying around like little gnats and you have to swat them away, I get a great buzz. I'm on cloud nine, folks.

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