Oh Baby, Don't Be That Way, You Know I Still Love You...

Hey ho. Well. I'm a writer who's just spent the bulk of the last couple days not writing, which always makes me cranky. But you know, good stuff can come out of meetings, too. Great stuff. But I'm chomping to get back to the MOUNTAIN of writing and rewriting that I have to do.

Plus, up here North of the 49th Parallel, the weekend coming up is a long weekend. Victoria Day, actually. The Birthday Celebration of that dowager princess Queen Vic. Of Queen Vic and Prince Albert fame. There. You're thinking about a pierced penis right now, aren't you? Don't even try to deny it. There's a good friend of mine who thinks it's funny that if you write my name real fast it looks like penis. Twenty years and she hasn't tired of that joke. And she's a mother.

Anyway, there's plenty of stuff for everyone to chew over with the upfronts and the fallout from the upfronts and the meetings that CBC is doing to explain their new strateregy here in Canada. And then there's that long weekend, which we here call the May 2-4 even though this year it's nowhere near May 24. (2-4 is also Canadian slang for a case of la biere. I know. More than you needed to know.)

All that's a long way of saying that blogging will be light til next week here. I've got limited procrastination time, don'tcha know, and I'm probably going to be cheating on you blog readers with a book in my off seconds.

I've just gotten ahold of the latest from one of my favorite TV writers, Bill Carter (The Late Shift.) If I'm not writing like I should be, or daydreaming like I sometimes do, or wiggling my toes in the grass like I should do more often on a long weekend, chances are I'll be reading this book. I'll let you know what I thought next week.

In the meantime, please, don't forget to tip your waitresses.