Anniversary

Today's the first anniversary of our house fire. I think about where the time went and what's changed.

For me, the most painful thing about the house fire was the death of my cat, Oleanna. I'd had her for 14 years, my first pet I'd gotten on my own, and a companion through every significant phase of my adulthood. She was a smart, funny, loving cat. In a strange way, I feel some guilt about having moved on without her.

So where has the year gone? I realize now it can be divided into three phases. First, the insurance post-mortem from June to October. Second, our period in Oakville, Ontario from October to Februrary. Our period in Toronto from February to the present. Each phase was four months, strange.

What do I have to show for the year? Insurance money and much, though not all, of my belongings replaced. Life in a (slightly) different country.

The most significant accomplishment was writing my screenplay Alien Harvest, and by a fluke of timing, yesterday I mailed that script to Ridley Scott's assistant. I realize the odds aren't good, but at the risk of indulging in some writerly jargon, I feel like I owe it to the characters to give them a chance.

I've gotten some really positive feedback from the three people who've read the script--Nicole, Bart, and my friend here John O'Neill. None of them (not even Nicole) dole out compliments insincerely, which I appreciate. Two of them said one of the best things a writer can hope to hear--Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. (I've gotten some very helpful suggestions, too.) So I'm hoping that Ridley Scott's assistant is curious enough to pick it up and just read the first few pages.

Also, yesterday, my attorney filed suit against the company whose product started the fire. We've all heard of the elderly woman made a millionaire because she spilled McDonald's coffee. So what sum do you think you could pursue from a company whose product burned your house down, killed your cats, and put your life in a tailspin? Well, not much, no where close to what that woman got. Part of that has to due with the conservative judges appointed in New Orleans, yet another way the Bush administration is fucking me over.

I don't want to end on that negative note. So I'll say that I feel like my life is moving in a positive direction. I don't know the external destination, but inside the trip feels OK with the possibility of improving.