The View Up Here

According to Spaz the Cat, I live to serve and obey and open doors for her so she can go in and out. Back and forth. Outside. Inside. Outside. Inside. Open door, close door. Open door, close door. I am like Spock without his brain, and Spaz holds the controller. "Meowwrr! Let me ouuuuutttt!" Added to the brainlessness is another day in the Vault of Limitless Boredom, where I put things in numerical order and then file them. That's all I do. All day long. But during that time, what's left of my mind wanders into my own personal story-land and the book I'm currently reading (review to come!), feeling like I'm missing out on what's happening with the characters while I'm not reading. My iPod is a saving grace (which reminds me I want to change up the playlist tonight), as are wearing sneakers and toting a travel mug of black coffee. Friday at 5:00, I'm getting my brain back as I walk out those doors for the last time. Oh, and speaking of last times,...

I spent almost the entire day at my temp job in the records room/vault filing shit-tons of paperwork that's been piling up for months. Seriously, someone should hire an efficiency consultant or something. Word on the street is they're getting a scanner to go paperless. I think that's a good idea, but that doesn't help my raw, dry fingertips and aching shoulders and neck. Anyway, I stepped out the door at 5:00 into wind and rain, but I didn't mind, because it was still quite warm, and the air smelled clean and good. Also, the precipitation was not snow, for which I am immeasurably grateful. I got in my car, and on the drive home found "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" on one of the many classic rock stations that dominate the middle of the dial in these parts. How perfect, I thought. And so, if you have 20 minutes to kill, here it is, in all its live Gordon Lightfooted glory:

Once again, yesterday and today have melded together in such a way that I thought I'd already posted. What's up with that? I'm writing this while watching M*A*S*H*, somewhere around first or second season. Frank Burns is trying to burn books in preparation for Gen. MacArthur's visit to the 4077th. My husband and I constantly bicker about the relative merits of the film vs. the sitcom. The film counts up in my top 10, but I also appreciate the sitcom, especially in the earlier seasons, before it became too silly. This reminds me that last year, my husband and I drove to Rochester to see M*A*S*H at the Dryden Theatre, a fundraising event hosted by Elliott Gould (who was clearly phoning it in for the Rochester Jewish Community Center). It was great fun watching it with a hep audience. Mr. Gould sat just a few seats behind us up in the balcony. Oh, and whe n I was an undergrad, Larry Linville was on the college circuit and came to speak with his reels of favorite momen...

Today I went to visit Jenny, one of my oldest and best friends, who was visiting her family in Big Flats, NY. When I was a kid, by the way, I used to confuse the names of the neighboring towns of Big Flats and Horseheads and called it "Flatheads." Used to frustrate the hell out of my mom. Anyhoe, as always, seeing Jenny reminds me of who I am and where I've been. And we always tell stories of when we were teenagers driving our parents crazy - oh we laugh about it now but back then it was serious business. Today we noted how much we grown-up daughters love our moms, and how so often the roles become reversed. On the drive back to Ithaca, I played a song by Zero 7 that makes me think of Mom. Oh, dawn broke Heavy rains made it hard to load Is it time for the road? I don't know, don't know Father has gone So let's go hold your baby's head And I won't let go Of your hand , child of mine (Child of mine) When it's time to let go Then we'll be up in...

I thought I already posted my farewell-to-September note. And my The Last Good Day of the Year post (Gods I love that song). Today it's 60 degrees, feeling like September 26, not November 26. Thank god for global warming. The last 24 hours have been pretty damned amazing: new perspective, new moon, awesome acupuncture this morning (she needled a point at the center of my chest that did wonders), sunshine, Indian takeaway lunch (I splurged), and a walk with my beloved Spaz Kitteh (we go for walks when weather permits - no leash, just the two of us along our little route by the gully). Thanks to you lovely readers for jazzing up my mojo, breathing life into my sails, and reminding me to refill my keg with water .

I seem to have lost my mojo. Sails flat. Keg empty. Please send good thoughts, wind, and rum. That is all.

It's been a long time since I went to a movie in the theater and thought on my way out, "Well that just sucked a whole lot of 3-D ass." Okay, actually I'd ever thought that particular thought before tonight. Please, save yourself and anyone you care about from going to this movie. Here's the thing: I really didn't like 300, but this movie, made by the same folks who brought us the Spartans with six packs, was worthless. It wasn't even as good as 300, and I never thought I'd hear myself saying that. It was disjointed, visually confusing, completely over the top gory-bloody - not in a Tarantino spurting blood kind of way , but in a "this is how fucked up humans can be to each other and it's horrid because we actually did this shit and now we're going to show it to you because we CAN MUWAHAHAHA" kind of way. What. The. Fuck. We paid $29 for two pairs of 3-D glasses to have our senses pummeled by shitty story telling, stupid dialogue...

I know I've done a lot of kvetching on this blog lately. It is good to vent spleen with a touch of humor, but it's also good to be still, humble, and give thanks. I am thankful for: Dharma and my Sangha Spaz Kitteh Being a writer My brother and his wife My nephew, his wife, and my 3 lieblings My girls: JEB and her little girl, Jenny, Rachel, Janet, Mel Reconnecting with Black Jack and Will this year Barry White My Rochester friends who have sustained me in difficult times My husband's sense of humor The $45 Trinitron that is allowing me to watch the Macy's Marketing Day Parade in stereo (I loves me a marching band) Lessons learned Being vegetarian Cranberries My unwritten life in L.A. My family in New York Ithaca College and R.I.T. The sun (without which life would not exist) TRON Dreaming Rod Serling Mom and Dad The holiday season has traditionally been tough for me, but this year even more so. I expect I'll be returning to this list for comfort and adding to it ...

...and all through the house, every creature is grateful that no one has to work tomorrow. Dutch apple pah is in the oven, Gramma's cranberry relish is made and marinating in its juices. Everything's washed and prepped for tomorrow. Pinot grigio in my glass. I'm going to go see "Hugo" hopefully tomorrow night, and perhaps "The Immortals" on the weekend. Good friend of mine is in Elmira for the next few days, so I will see her. Strange to think this is my last Thanksgiving here in this apartment. Last time I have to cook a huge Thanksgiving meal in this teeny kitchen. Though I have to say that I've got it down to a pseudo-science. I'd make someone a damn fine sous-chef. Well, maybe not...

Last week I started watching Babylon 5 via Netflix, because I'd never seen the series and I hear tell they're gonna do a reboot a la Star Trek. So finally I decided to see what all the fuss was about. I'm through the first three disks (still first season), and so far I am enjoying it, despite the cheesy 90s aesthetic and computer animation from back in the day. I'm looking forward to the Bruce Boxleitner episodes. Oh, and I haven't actually read that Wikipedia link because I'm avoiding spoilers, which can be difficult fifteen years after the fact. I can see why it was lauded as better than Star Trek: Deep Space 9 at the time. I did watch DS9, actually, and dug the the intrigue and inter-species complications and politics. Recently a friend of mine said he watched DS9 beginning to end and found it holds up over time. Funny how these shows from the 90s hold up over time. What sci fi TV will people remember and order on Netflix in another five years? Fire...

To celebrate the James Bond movie marathon on SyFy this Thanksgiving and Black Friday (so apropos, don't you think?): a song from Sneaker Pimps. Name that sample before you click here . P.S. The video sucks. Just listen to the song in all its mid-90s trip-hoppy-ness. And while we're at it:

The temp job is making it difficult for me to do anything useful. I sit on my butt for 7.5 hours a day pushing papers and trying to drown out the country music station and the sound of the call center babes that surround me with their nasally Upstate accents. Thank God for my iPod, which has been on the charger all night since I ran the battery down yesterday in the middle of the day. Meanwhile, I'm having a hard time getting anything done that needs to be done in my life - job applications comes to mind first and foremost, dealing with excess furniture that belonged to my mother also comes to mind. This assignment is over next Friday, then I will be done temping, because at that point I'll have a month before I head back to L.A. and I gotta be ready. For now, though, blogging right before I leave in the morning is about all I've been able to manage. And today's post is pretty lame, so I will leave you with this:

Quickly, before I go shuffle papers for 7.5 hours: Yesterday I went to my favorite place to write outside of my home office - The Owl Cafe - and worked on Black Doves for a couple hours. It wasn't much time, but I did manage to get quite a bit done. And by that I mean, I pushed through the act wall. Since this is a novel, not a screenplay, I have had to impose act breaks because that's how I think (having written screenplays, everything in life is broken into 3 acts). But a novel requires more than 3 acts. The book really has two halves, and each half is roughly broken into 5 acts. I'm pretty sure I'm in the fourth act of the second half. Hopefully my editor isn't reading this with his face in his palm.

I'd just crawled into bed after popping a melatonin to help me get to sleep, when I realized I never blogged today. Somehow yesterday and today had melded together such that my memory of blogging yesterday morning seemed to have taken place today. So it's 10:37 p.m. and I'm sitting up in bed with the radio on ( WSQX "Your jazz and news alternative" minus that harpy Amy Goodman). When the melatonin kicks in, I may very well enter another dimension mid-post, so bear with me. Tonight's topic relates to writing process. A question I always pose to my students: do you prefer to outline or to write by the seat of your keyboard? Invariably, I get the self-proclaimed creative writer declaring that outlines hamper her creativity, or stifle his inspiration, and that they are so wooden and difficult to follow once you start writing. Then I inform the class that they are required to write an outline before they begin writing the screenplay, and I receive an assortme...

No, I'm not talking about husbands. Our old TV went kablooey a few weeks ago, and we'd been using the tiny one that normally resides in my husband's office. Tonight he brought home a Sony Trinitron TV for $45 from the Fingerlakes Reuse store. This is the same store from which I bought a netbook for $200. Suhweeeet. I am so thankful for this place. Not only is it easy on the purse, it helps us keep our goods in service rather than chucking them into a landfill or by the side of the interstate. It's great to watch DVDs on a screen bigger than my head and with stereo sound. This will help the next month and a half pass quicker.

As requested and promised, my thoughts on the latest incarnation of James Bond, portrayed by Daniel Craig. I have less than 25 minutes to whip this thing off and get to the rest of my tremendously boring day, so here goes. First, let me make a disclaimer that I've never read any of the Ian Fleming novels. My knowledge of the James Bond character is strictly from the films and the various actors who have played 007 over the last several decades. Because you might be wondering, and it's a starting point for this discussion, I will go on record as saying my favorite Bond was indeed Sean Connery. Favorite Bond film: You Only Live Twice . Now on to Daniel Craig. He's described his portrayal of James Bond as "anti-hero" because after all, he's essentially an assassin with a license to kill. Craig has stated in interviews that he actively portrays Bond's dark side, offering the question to the audience "Is he a good guy, or a bad guy who works for the g...

Not the best combination, but it's where I find myself this evening. Started a new temp job that should last a week and a half-ish. Then I really have to buckle down and get my cover letters and resumes out. As soon as the holidays are over I'm back to L.A. and gotta be ready to hit the ground running. Lots of work to do before now and then. Thanksgiving is a week from today, which itself was a shocking realization for me this afternoon, and which lit the fire under my ass to take my time management more seriously (vis a vis heading back to L.A. on Jan. 5). So, it's time to make plans for the Feast of the Cranberry (my new name for it), since I no longer eat meat. Here's my plan: Roasted Cornish game hen for meatasaurus husband (yes, we're separating and I'm still cooking for him). Smashed potatoes Corms (aka corn) Sweet potats and cranberry cassarole Squish (freshly baked squash, not that frozen orange square you dump into a pot and watch melt into orange p...

Vitamin D supplements only go so far in helping me keep my head above water in these weary, bleary, dreary days of late fall and winter. Here are some other suggestions for surviving in Ithaca or other places that are bereft of sunshine for days and weeks at a time. Of course if you like to freeze your ass off in winter, go skiing or skating or ice fishing or snow shoeing. But if you're like me (poor circulation in my fingers and toes, a crappy knee and an abhorrence of the bitter cold), those aren't really options, now are they? Pandora.com - The music genome project allows you to create "stations" that play the kind of music you want to hear. I rely on this as a free alternative to the music in my iTunes that I've heard a hundred times. Currently I have a number of stations that provide me with everything from ambient trance music to 70s R&B to trip hop to classical. Movies - Go to a theatre, not just Netflix. Yes, it's expensive, but it also gives ...

I really got nothing today. How about you, my gentle readers, share something provocative, interesting, bizarre, or ridiculous? Leave a comment and tell us the buzz.

Dream from last night: I was in a writing group in some weird basement room of a large building. Two of my friends were in this group; the others were not known to me. In the middle of our meeting, the lights went off and on, and even the emergency lights went off and on. We decided it was safer to leave, so we headed out into the stairwell. I was in the lead, then remembered I'd left my bags (with my writing) in that room, so I ducked back down and got them. By the time I returned to the stairwell, the last of my group, some old guy, had disappeared through one of the upper level doors. I then realized I had no idea where I'd parked. I exited into the first parking level, walked around and but couldn't find the car. I just couldn't remember where it was. I noticed it was pouring rain - not a normal rain, but frightening sheets of water. Someone had their car radio on pretty loud, and I heard the newscaster saying something about weapons of mass destruction, and...

I've loved this song for years, but somehow just saw the video for the first time today. Not at all what I'd expected.

Okay, technically it's tomorrow, but I'm still awake since the morning of the 12th, so we're gonna call this safe. It's late, so I'll keep it simple: this week I started relearning how to walk. No really. After several ankle/knee injuries, plantar faciaitis (or as I like to call it, planter's fascists), flat feet, heel spur and lots of pain, my massage/Reiki therapist helped me to realize that I've been standing and walking with my right hip cocked back. Meaning, essentially, that I've been walking around with my right leg not really working the way it was designed to. So for the last week I've been walking with more body awareness, doing specific exercises for core strengthening, and paying attention to where my hips and feet are. How many of us take for granted that we are healthy in body and mind? Here's something I never thought I'd have to pay attention to. Walking. I mean, I've been doing it since I was two, right? Mom and me on...

This morning I was reminded that Nov. 11th is a special day in S. Korea. It may be Veterans Day here in the U.S., but in Korea it's Pepero Day, which as far as I'm concerned is freaking awesome, even if it is a giant marketing ploy by Lotte Confectionary Co. On this day, mainly younger Koreans or young couples give and receive boxes of Pepero. Like these two syrupy sweet lovers: As you can see, Pepero are essentially breadsticks dipped in chocolate. They usually aren't so large as in the picture, though. You might notice that two Peperos side by side look like an 11. As in "ll.ll" which is today, of course. Pepero come in all sizes, milk and dark chocolate, some with crushed almonds, candy sprinkles or other candy goodness smeared into the chocolate. They come in boxes like this: When I taught in the hakwan , my little students brought me a metric ton of the stuff. I went home at the end of the day with a humungus bag of them, and they lasted quite a while. O...

Went back to R.I.T. this afternoon when there were people around, and I was blown away by the School of Film and Animation's presence on the ground floor. It is magnificent. The fourth floor is now all Photo. No wonder it seemed empty and lifeless last night (no offense to any photogs out there). Anyway, the newish digs of the film program are a far cry from when I was there. My friend and colleague Jack, who started teaching there when I did and is now a chair in the program, gave me the tour. Such an amazing space, and the program has grown immensely. Remember I said an MFA in anything other than animation didn't exist? Now there's an MFA in Production and in Screenwriting. Those lucky devils. But I wouldn't trade my days in for anything. Those were golden years, and they are spawning several more golden years. Aside from meeting with the Career Services specialist and hanging out in the SOFA, I went to the Memorial Art Gallery with a dear, old friend and saw th...

This will have to be quick, since I'm in Rochester, didn't get enough sleep and need to get on with my day. Last night's alumni career program at R.I.T. got me thinking about how I market my self. I'll write more about that later after I've processed some things and had time to sleep and get my ideas coherent. Right now, though, I want to focus on what happened after the program. We let out around 7:30, and I stayed for a few minutes to speak to one of the panelists, who was very interesting and had some good insights to share. From there, I walked the short distance under the pine trees to the Gannett building, which houses the School of Film and Animation. This is where I spent 4 years of my life - 3 as an MFA student and 1 as an adjunct professor. I'd heard that the Fourth Floor, which was the center of production and editing back in my day, and still seems to be, has changed a lot. It most certainly has. Gone are the 16 mil flatbed editing rooms and th...

I think I'm headed into a new season (aside from winter, that is). I feel like I'm working toward a more forward-thinking, inspired phase rather than a sad, sentimental longing for what's passed. Because, you know... I have to admit, these warm temps and sunshine really help. I've always known I have a severe sensitivity to the lack of sun and Vit. D. I had started to slump into the bleak, depressed state that always comes over me in late fall (and lasts for six months). Thankfully, this superlative high pressure system with temps in the 50s and 60s and bright sun this week has been the shot in the arm I really needed to remind me of what I'm working towards. Eyes on the prize and all that. I long to be in sunny southern Cali. Imagine never having seasonal depression again! So I'm headed to Rochester this afternoon to attend an alumni networking event at R.I.T. (where I did my MFA in film). I'm going with resumes and business cards in hand, and I'll ...

I've spent a lot of time over the last 3-4 days feeling bad about certain aspects of my situation. Then yesterday I ran into my neighbor across the breezeway who we've been friends with for the 6.5 years we've lived here. Turns out he's being evicted, and they didn't even give him 30 days. At the moment, as I sit here in my home atelier , I can hear and see the bustle of the work crew helping him move boxes and mucking out his apartment. To be honest, the guy has had a hard life, he's been on disability and public assistance, and he's estranged from his wife who lives down south. He's going to end up in a shelter because he couldn't find a place to live that was in his price range and that isn't a ghetto. He's a smart, well-spoken, educated man, and this is what's happened to him. A painful reminder that someone always has it worse than you. Om mani padme hum.

Today I wrapped up the temp job of fame and ill repute. Augustus Gloop who hit on me last week made sure to give me the cool farewell of "best of luck to ya" while not looking up from his book. A few of the folks stopped to say thanks and wish me good luck (for real) in L.A. on their way out. And of course my candy-loving pal and I said a sad farewell. I accomplished this by paging him as Barry White. Yes, that's right. Well, when's the last time your co-worker called your desk to play Barry White over the phone? Henceforth, my chocolate-craving former coworker will be known as Barry White in these blog pages. Thanks, Barry, for making my boring days of waiting for the phone to ring much less boring, and for making me smile when I was grumpy. I didn't end up getting that temp gig at the insane asylum, so tomorrow I'm back to my freewheeling writer life on Funemployment. Tutoring, editing, writing, looking for freelance work. Back to dreaming and planning for ...

Aldi vs Wegmans 1. The first Aldi was opened in Southeastern Iowa in 1976 and has since spread all over the U.S. Wegmans is family-owned, started by Danny Wegman of Rochester, NY in 1916 as a local chain which has spread beyond New York State to include six states, most recently Massachusetts. 2. Aldi's prices are very cheap, being a bargain grocery store, but with better selection than you'd imagine. Their imported chocolates, for example, are pretty damned impressive. So is their cheese offering (it's not just orange American slices and string cheese). At the holidays, Aldi adds things like goat cheese to their selection. You often have to carefully examine what's on the shelves and stacked in the boxes. It ain't a luxury shopping experience. Wegmans is really fucking expensive. They have everything, though, plus all the extras like recipes, samplings and tastings, and services such as dry cleaning, catering, a pharmacy and a florist on site. 3. Aldi's carts ...

I know I said in my last post that I'd be writing about Aldi vs Wegman's today, but I've got something else I want to get into. I'll save that juicy morsel for later. I often teach character development in screenwriting with the following instruction: What does the character want? What does s/he need? The tension between those two answers will provide the inner conflict line throughout the film. Over the last couple of days, it's occurred to me that I am struggling with the same couple of questions in my own life. I have Wants. Lots of 'em. Some of them very secretive, very sexy, very selfish, very, well, "wanty." Sometimes Wanting drifts into Longing, which results in listening to too much Tori Amos (but is there really such a thing?) and feeling like a 19-year-old girl/woman with an achey breaky heart. Oftentimes, Wanting devolves into Wishing, and Wishing has an implied sense of Wanting the Impossible, and is therefore a big fat waste of time and ...

My grandmother's name was Archangelena, but everyone either called her Lena or Cambio. Her sauce was indescribable. She taught my mom how to make it, and Mom, despite being Irish, made one helluva sauce, too. Mine isn't as good as Lena's; there was some kind of Gramma Magic involved with hers.* But still, it's a damned good way to spend a Sunday afternoon with friends and family. I've written this with the absolute beginner in the kitchen in mind, so for those of you more advanced cooks, please ignore the extra descriptions. This makes 2-4 servings, depending upon who's eating and how many young bachelors are at the table. YOU WILL NEED: A wine glass, a sharp knife, a blender, a large pot for the sauce , a huge-ass pot for the pasta, a strainer, and a spatter shield and huge-ass serving dish (both optional). You will also need implements for stirring and tasting. INGREDIENTS: 4-5 roma tomatoes (Romas are the sort of oblong tomatoes, rather than the fat and ro...

1. 29-year old tubby co-workers who live at home with mom & dad, kind of want to go to grad school for something but don't want to deal with taking the GRE, evoke every D&D-playing, Star Trek-watching negative stereotype you've ever seen, and who hit on the (married albeit in the process of separating from her husband) temp receptionist (after divulging all these winning qualities). And who are temps, themselves. That's it, actually. I just wanted to point out that if you're 100 lbs overweight and fit the above description, you really need to rethink your life plan. Get some help. Join a cult, maybe? Yes, this is what happened to me this week at the awesome temp job I was raving about earlier. To be fair, the job is still great, the REST of the people at the office are cool, especially the one with the major candy craving, but I also have to deal with the afore-mentioned loser who is now giving me the brush off whenever I happen to be in the same room (like I ca...

Greetings, Programs! I realize I've already satisfied my quota for today, but I'm motivated to write more. Imagine! As anyone who's known me for more than ten minutes can tell you, I'm a huge fan of the Tron films. Tron: Legacy was, for me, both a flash back to my teenage self watching light cycles race on the Grid for the first time, and a reminder of why I chose to write and make films in the first place. The man who envisioned and directed T:L, Joseph Kosinski, is actually the subject of this post (ah, eventually she gets to the point). Now, there already exists in the blogosphere some excellent investigations into who Joseph Kosinski is , mainly because when he was attached to T:L, few knew the name readily. Check out the link I just posted to see the work he did pre-T:L, which was his first feature film. So what's next for JoKo? Oblivion! I mean the film, "Oblivion," about a lone soldier (Tom Cruise) on a bleak, post-apocalyptic future Earth, repair...

This morning I arrived late to the temp job as I had an interview for another, long term temp job at a local insane asylum institute of higher learning. My entire morning routine was obliterated as I stressed over what to wear, how I'd park on campus, the fact that I didn't have bus fare, etc. Ultimately, the interview went very well, I thought, and I'm psyched at the prospect of working there for my remaining 2 months in I-town. But by the time I got to my current temp gig, I was out of sorts and just grateful that WICB has a Reggae show on Thursday mornings, followed by 2 hours of jazz in the afternoon. And since I only had part of a cup of coffee this morning, I am drinking the weak office swill because I am an addict. There, I said it. But you know what? Other than the fact that my cat is very annoyed at me for being gone all day (after weeks of freelancing from home), I'm very grateful that I have some place to be in the mornings. Getting out of the house is good...

As you know, I'm gearing up for my big move to L.A. on January 5, 2012. Big news on that front: I've just confirmed an apartment - different from the one I was going to take - that will keep me in Burbank and cost a fraction of what the other place would've cost me. I'll have a roommate, a friend of TL's who also works at Disney. Really looking forward to it! I'm so grateful this worked out, because I was stressing over the high rent of the other place. Next big hurdle (other than getting a job, OBVIOUSLY) will be getting a car. Well, actually the next hurdle is selling my current car at a decent profit so I can afford to buy a car in L.A. Speaking of which: FOR SALE: 1998 Nissan Sentra, 134,000 miles, in great mechanical condition, some cosmetic sadness here and there, just inspected, 4 snow tires with a couple seasons left in 'em AND 4 new all-season radials. Automatic, 4-door, maroon color, Ithaca Sufferjets and Bluestockings bumper stickers. It d...

I'm a day late and a dollar short, but I can still jump in and do the National Blog Writing Month challenge: a post every day. I may or may not use their writing prompts. I usually have plenty to say, but then again, I usually blog once a week if I'm lucky. So here goes. Consider this yesterday's make-up post. I'll even write something besides this announcement. Today on the way into my temp job for the week (which is pretty awesome, I must say...more on that soon) I heard the Traveling Wilburys "End of the Line." Hadn't heard that one in a long time, but this time as I listened to the lyrics, I was impressed by how applicable most of them are to my life right now. Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze Well it's all right, if you live the life you please Well it's all right, doing the best you can Well it's all right, as long as you lend a hand You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring Waiting for someone to tell you eve...