Had I not been reading page 346 of my Penguin trade paperback Gravity's Rainbow, I would never have learned that O, wie spurlos zerträte ein Engel den Trostmarkt is from the tenth Dueno Elegy, and, as if that weren't enough, that I do not like the translation that everybody reads, either, because the guy botches its first three words.

So I spent the next howeverlong translating the first three sentences:

That I this one day, upon the final exit of the most furious insight,
sing out Jubilation and Glory to upward-voiced angels.
That from the clear striking of the collective hearts' hammers
none fail to yield, none doubt, none play their strings
too quickly. That my face, shiny with tears, makes me
more brilliant; that the inconspicuous crying need
blossoms.

–LBJ, translating Rilke, 6/2007

just because it's Saturday and the baby was four handfuls today, doesn't mean I didn't write. Did edits and formatting and fill-in stuff on the screenplay and I think I'm at 19 pages, but that includes the cover page so I guess it's really 18, or thereabouts.

We are NOT setting the alarm for early church tomorrow because the boy has awakened pre-7:00 the past two mornings and I just don't have it in me to wake to an alarm if he decides to sleep in. Sweet Dreams!

I've decided that in order to take my Rhythmball practice in a new direction this summer, I'm going to learn me to dance some modern dance. I've never danced before except for ballroom (ask Monstro), but I've done yoga off and on for 7 years and tai-chi-based moves for nearly a year. Plus, I love being barefoot, and their dance floor is sure to be cleaner than mine.

I start Thursday. Thanks to Katie and Mark A. Davis, artist-in-residence at Smith College, for the class info!

I don't know if it's because I've been writing mostly plays lately but so far this screenplay is cruising along with minimal highway obstruction construction. The step outline is up to #33, which puts me just past the end of the first act. I haven't read the screenplay of the original film I'm sequel-izing, but I've taken a peek at its TXT file and it's about 158 pages, which seems long, but I also remember plenty of fast talking and sumptuous sets, which can be plenty page-greedy.

I'm on page 16 of my screenplay right now; not bad and on track with five pages/day. Today's pages might be a bit talky so far but edits are simple.

I'm very distracted by all this Paris Hilton brouhaha. Monstro thinks she has an OxyContin addiction. I'm assuming STDs. What do YOU think? Comments please.

There's nothing more annoying than a writer who's writing. Sorry guys.

Paris Hilton's out of jail!

Doo-dah, doo-dah.

Paris Hilton's out of jail;

only been five days.

Only been five days,

Only been five days.

Ankles confined to her ma-aa-nsion,

Oh, dee doo dah day.

Gossip pundits suggest that Hilton's active herpes lesions caused a health concern to the population. By shipping her home with an ankle bracelet, prison officials went easy on her. Otherwise, Paris could have been known as the woman who skankified JAIL.

Paris Hilton: the Woman who Could, serving steaming-hot-platefuls of home-cooked ickiness, daily!

Parents let their children look up to her why now? I mean, really? I was at Century 21 discount department store in the NYC Financial District and saw toddler girls' clothes with low cuts and busted zippers. Perhaps because the rest of America has wised up and they're trying to get rid of it wholesale.

paris hilton, skank, jail

Projects in the works:

Fourth-going-on-fifth draft of Count of Three. I'm adding a Freudian level to it and it's going to get all dirty. Very exciting

Paris's Jail Journal: Two entries so far, didn't write yesterday because I was working on

Unnamed Movie Script: I'm writing a screenplay for Gerry Jutsun. He knows about it and is intrigued. I sat down yesterday and wrote the first six pages. If I can write 5 pages/day I'll have it done in a month.

Cross your fingers that I get famous, because if I do, I'm bringing you all with me, because it's no fun to party alone. Just ask Paris.

The boy's tear-duct probe and irrigation went fine today — he was in the operating room at 8:01 and we were on our way home by 8:30. He's had milk, water, and most of the pancakes off my plate since then, and now is down for what I expect will be a loooooong nap. Thanks for your prayers — when I met the anesthesiologist, Dr. Christan Munk, I figured all would be well. 🙂

oh, btw, I started Paris's Jail Journal this week and have written two entries so far, yuh-HUH.

I am back from a hilarious weekend in Manhattan, squired by Johnny P. from my undergrad days and Miss Shannon from my MFA program and the only way I would have had a better time is if Monstro had been with us. We stayed at the MIllenium (not a typo) Hilton; Shannon and I were in a comped (!) junior suite that looked directly down into the pit of Ground Zero. Had sixteen-dollar cosmos at Tavern on the Green, ate French food, Spanish food, and saw Spamalot. All fantastic.

But now I'm back and the boy is having a procedure tomorrow to unblock his clogged-since-birth tear duct. Prayers greatly appreciated. Thanks! I probably won't post much the next few days, understandably.