I've never gone this long without updating before... I guess you could say that I took some time to regroup.

August was a really tough month for me for some reason. Mentally, physically, professionally - you name it. I actually took this week off from work. I feel guilty because my office is just five minutes from my house, and they know that I didn't go anywhere. But, it's kind of discriminatory against us single people to say that just because we aren't taking an elaborate vacation to the Caribbean, we don't deserve a few days off, eh?

Speaking of 'eh', I already blew part of that vacation by agreeing to cover for someone at a meeting in Toronto this past weekend. All in all, it actually turned out to be pretty cool.

First of all, the Toronto Film Festival was going on, which for any self-respecting tv/movie junkie, is a pretty cool people-watching experience. We stayed at the Sutton Place Hotel which is supposed to be where a lot of stars stay and hang out, so I was constantly on the lookout. (Yes, I'm a geek.) Unfortunately I didn't see anyone too exciting.

I did, however, have an invitation to go to the Four Seasons to hang out with a friend of mine from Buffalo. I ran into him, and he was all, "Yeah, we're hanging out with Sean Penn tonight. You should come." And I was all, "Dude. Sean Penn? Seriously?" And he was all, "Yeah, my buddy is friends with him."

So did I go hang out with Sean Penn? Of course not. Why? Because I was required to go to a dinner for the participants of the course we were sponsoring.

It was at the home of one of the chairmen, and I arrived late because I stayed at the hospital to clean up the equipment we had used in the cadavers.

(Oh, do I go into more cadaver stories? Like, how one surgeon decided to take an "approach" through a guy's mouth, laid his hands over the lower jaw, and ended up discovering the guy's dentures had never been removed? That was a real treat to stare at this guy's teeth lying next to him for the next two hours as they proceeded to "operate" on him.

No? Ok, I'll move on....)

Anyway, I arrived late to the dinner, and found out that the friends I was supposed to hang out with for the evening, the New York reps (Matt and Roe), had 1) gotten on the shuttle bus from the hotel to the dinner, 2) decided that it looked boring, and 3) stayed ON the shuttle bus after everyone else got off and then left.

Boy, was I a little bit pissed. It was all jealousy of course, but I was still pissed.

As the night progressed, the reception turned into dinner. I ended up sitting next to a very nice surgeon from Tampa, and was able to get an update on my friend Ed.

Ed is back home, but spent several weeks in Memphis in a coma. He broke his neck, and is pretty confused sometimes, but otherwise has no neurological damage, and has a good prognosis. (Thank God.) He and the other man who survived were both sitting in the back of the plane. The two men up front (including a prominent Tampa neurosurgeon) both perished.

So as Dr. B and I were talking, our conversation moved to the Film Festival. Turns out, his son is Jeff, the curly red-headed producer from Project Greenlight. I never saw the first season, but I did watch this one all the way through. Jeff was just about the only person on that show that I could tolerate, so I was happy that I didn't have to lie about liking him.

I had all KINDS of questions for him, which he was quite happy to answer.

---

I'm not really sure where this entry is going right now. The truth is, I was trying very hard to write something interesting or entertaining in some way, but I'm struggling a little bit.

I turned 33 today, and all I wanted - more than anything in the whole world - was for Sam to come home.

I cried off and on during the day, especially when my mom called. It felt good to be able to just cry to someone who would sit there and listen. She kept telling me, "Don't give up. He'll come home soon."

Earlier as I was writing in this entry about my trip to Toronto, the phone rang. A little boy had taken my flyer home to his mother. They had both seen my kitty, a few blocks away from where I live.

She gave me the number of a lady whose home they'd seen him in front of, and I left a message for her. Then I gathered up my flyers, my flashlight, kitty treats, and his damn wet cat food, and drove to the neighborhood where they'd seen him. After I was out there for about an hour, I got a call from that lady.

"Yes, I got your message. I'm sorry, but I have a white cat that looks almost just like yours. I think it's probably mine that they've seen."

"Oh."

"I've got the papers if you need to see them. I've had her for three years."

"Oh! No, I didn't think you had my cat, someone just thought they saw him."

"Well, he's de-clawed, you say? You really should watch out. There are a lot of foxes around here. Plus there's a hawk that's been known to pick up small animals."

I think I managed a "well, thank you for calling" before I completely broke down.

I just don't understand some people.

So here I sit, trying to think of anything to write, and trying not to think about him. It's clearly not working.

Maybe it was a sign that there's still hope, that (most) people are genuinely kind and will call me if they see him. I put a lot of fresh flyers up tonight since most of the others were washed away from the rain, so maybe some of the school kids will recognize him.

Or maybe someone will bring me that bitch's cat.

Just kidding. (sort of.)

feeling... goodnight sam, wherever you are
listening to... seal --kiss from a rose
miss something?
goodbye my friend - 2005-04-29
out of the loop - 2005-04-09
a quest for clarity - part 1 - 2004-08-30
no plan for a sequel - 2004-08-27
slacker of the month - 2004-08-26