Emily, Lived By:

WEEK 32 was a long time ago.   I woke up with my contact lenses in on a couch in the Four Seasons & ate some food from every food group for breakfast.  In the middle I picked Shannon up from the airport, where the runway was smoking mysteriously, but nobody said anything. I ended it in a bar in Santa Monica, drinking Belgian beer for no particular reason.  In an experimental sort of way, I decided not to blog about it.  I mean by now we all know I’m living it.  What do I have to prove?

I am happy with that decision.  You should be happy, because it makes me happy.  Then we can all be happy together.  

Anyway, I’m about to write about Week 33.  So you can look forward to that.  In the meantime, read over Week 31, just below.  Wasn’t that a fun week?  Aren’t I a beautiful bride?

So I spent last week in New York, up to know good as usual– at least on my work days!  On my days off I was just up to no good.  Ho! Ho!  I don’t talk about my days off.  (If you want to know about those you should hire a private investigator– but [look into your heart now!] you don’t want to know about those.)

But it would help you to know a thing or two about Sunday the Seventh.  It began with McDonald’s, first of all (mmm! I’m livin’ it. [living, get it]).  & then I did lots of nice, fun, things, even though the traffic was terrible (oh Em, gee! this is a little self-referential).  A little Super Bowl, a little babysitting, a little reading, a little catching up with pals new & old, & if I could sum up my behavior that day in three words it would be “discreet” “ladylike” & hmmm “sleepy.”  & it was in a discreet, ladylike, & sleepy manner that, shortly after midnight, I climbed the stairs towards my new host’s Brooklyn apartment.

Dave was a good host with a very comfortable sofa (I’m becoming a real connoisseur of The Sofa these days).  It was a little shorter than I am long, but it was very soft & deep which made up for that.  Anyway I sat there for a little while, babbling inanely as ladies tend to do, & eventually Dave asked me if I wanted my schedule for the week.  It was, see, meant to be a surprise.  ”Sure,” I said.  

…

…

…

& THEN

…

…

…

HE FAKE PROPOSED!

 He got down on one knee & said “Emily, will you fake marry me?” & pulled out a ring.  

Well, what’s a girl to say?  Yes, of course.  I think he was actually a little relieved!  

Then he dragged out a backpack full of change.  It was so heavy I could barely lift it.  Anyway, that was supposed to be the budget for the wedding, & for my first day I would have to go to the bank & change it for paper money & use some of it to buy my wedding dress.  After that, I could start planning my fake wedding.  

Well the next morning I woke up & admired my ring a little bit.  

Very pure, very tasteful

& then I shouldered my burden– a blue backpack stuffed with a pillowcase full of change.  Honestly, I probably should have divided it into two trips, but I was too embarrassed by the prospect of carrying a backpack ONCE for six blocks– I certainly didn’t want to do it twice.  

How's that hope-y change-y stuff workin' out for ya?

Oh that picture is blurry but you get the idea.  I’m standing up as straight as I can.  

Then, you know, I walked to the bank & it was kind of uncomfortable when homeless people asked me for change.  So I just ignored them, as one is supposed to.  But I’m not used to it.  

Well. If I keep going on & on we’ll be here all day, & I want to finish this post before the screaming starts.  To make a long story short, there was an awful lot of change.  

Change, pretty well! Hope, not so much

What can I say, I lead a charmed life.  First a handsome lawyer wants to fake marry me, then I find myself with nearly $600 in small change!  I was pretty sure that life would just get better & better from here on out. 

Once I had my money, I wandered ALL over Williamsburg going into thrift stores in search of a wedding dress.  I wandered the streets for at least three hours & went into lots different stores but not only were there no wedding dresses, there were no white dresses at all.  At least my spirits were lifted by a frightening looking group of teen hooligans– as I walked under the BQE one of them said “You’re awfully pretty, ma’am!” Funny for all the obvious reasons, also, I always like it when people find me sexually appealing in the dead of winter when I’m all bundled up.  I mean God only knows what could be under my coat!  I think that sort of faith is charming.  

& then rounding the corner, another hooligan yelled “He’s lying!  You’re extremely beautiful!”  Bless their hooligan hearts.  I take it wherever I find it these days, since your husbands all got those restraining orders!  Who else is supposed to finance my drug habit(s) &/or beg me to mail them my underwear?  

But I digress.  I got on the subway & went into Manhattan where I heard there might be a store that could help me.  I walked in &, after my initial despair at being in what appeared to be a sex shop, discovered a WHOLE RACK of vintage wedding dresses, very reasonably priced, tried on three, & settled immediately on the one with the four foot train.  Thought I might as well get a veil too.  Altogether, $70.  Just $70!  Reality shows had led me to believe such a feat is nearly impossible.  Reality shows have led me to believe a lot of ridiculous things I guess.  

So then I went back to Brooklyn with my wedding dress in a big black garbage bag & waited for Dave to return from the office.  

We ordered take-out

I showed him my wedding dress (bad luck?) & we ate some pizza.  Found a place to store my veil.  

A veiled threat? Ha. Ha.

In the above picture you can learn a lot about my fake ex-husband.  First of all, he loves bird-watching.  Second, his fridge is broken.  It’s been that way a long time.  If I had a baby right when his fridge broke, that baby would be walking by now for sure.  

Anyway I went to bed a little later.  I like sleeping in a V-shape with my head against one arm & my feet propped up on the other.  Arm of the sofa, that is.  Maybe when I regain control of my life I will buy myself a child’s bed.  Or a nice small cage with a horizontal crossbar… but I’m getting ahead of myself.  I don’t even have a wrangler.  

The next day I basically just sat inside all day, doing wedding planning.  You know how it goes.  It was mostly online research & emails & invitations at that point.  Fun to do, dull to hear about, moving onwards.  

That evening went out for dinner & drinks with some of Dave’s friends (some of whom I’ve met once or twice before) & enjoyed myself very much.  It’s been awhile since I sat at a table full of literate people– no offense to my many illiterate friends.  My illiterate friends have other good qualities.  Though I can probably say whatever I like about them since they don‘t read. Anyway, I think I’d like to move to New York when I’m done with this awful project.  It’s just a matter of finding a job or a patron.  I’d like to write my book in a city where people are pale in winter & read the newspaper. & are not Canadian.  

Oh well, anyway, I had a nice time that night.  I stepped out for a “breath of fresh air” with Sarah (whom I will not describe because it is creepy to describe people to anonymous crowds of hundreds) & the snow had started.  The first flakes were just as pretty as the first flakes always are.  Some drunk men were really thrilled to look at us or something, so we amused ourselves by inviting them outside & taking a picture with them.  It didn’t come out though.  

The next morning…

We went to the window, & what do you think we saw?

It was beautiful!

Beautiful!

Beautiful!!

Dave went to his office, but he didn’t wear a suit. I got to stay indoors & wear whatever I wanted!  I stayed indoors all day looking out the window. Oh yeah, wearing Dave’s red plaid shirt because we wore matching shirts in our wedding photos!  & then I just decided to borrow it for my whole trip.  He was my pretend fiancee after all.  I think it was important for both of us to forge a false bond before our wedding & such liberties as borrowed clothing are, I think, allowed.

It kept up all day.

& then he got home early & we ordered… oh, I don’t know.  Chinese food?  

Yes, we had Chinese food.  & then it sat out all night & the next morning around 10:00 I ate it for breakfast & I didn’t get sick at all.  I put the rest of the leftovers out on the fire escape to eat later & eat them later I did.  That Chinese food kept me fed for three days!  

Dave tossed a ball around with himself.

So that was Wednesday.  Then all I did on Thursday & Friday, basically, was keep up with the wedding plans & work on the world’s longest paper chain.  While I did that I’d watch scary movies on the internet, things like that.  I probably spent 12 hours all told on this chain.  Maybe more.  I wasn’t sure what I’d use it for but I knew I needed to do something with my hands.  Maybe when I move to New York & buy my tiny bed & can take up knitting.  Maybe what I can do is not bring a blanket, & only buy some yarn & knitting needles, so I will be forced to knit my own blanket if I want to stay warm.  I could even knit myself into a cocoon with some circular needles!  Then I could be a butterfly & die in one day.  It seems like a fair price to pay for being a butterfly?  

I didn’t go out of the house much.  Only for paper & paste on Thursday.  

This is what it looked like outside

& inside I was halfway done.

& then on Friday I went & picked up our wedding cake (9″, three layers, red velvet).  The cake was $38.  The cab was $30.  I’m a big fan of these gypsy cabs but I can’t figure out if you’re supposed to tip or not.  I’ve heard conflicting reports.  

Oh on Friday I also went out with Dave & my fake ex-brother-in-law & his girlfriend.  We had a group, initially, & we were going to go to Hooters for a bachelor/ette party but then a lot of people cancelled & we thought it might be awkward with just the four of us.  So we went to a fancy restaurant instead & I had steak tartare & then I mixed too many kinds of liquor, but I wasn’t the only one.  

Anyway it was my last night as a fake free woman.  

The next day we got up kind of late. Dave had bought a white tailcoat & a bowtie the day before; in the morning he decided he needed a tuxedo shirt.  So he went & got one.  Then we got some figurines for the cake, gold slippers for me, matching anchor rings & breakfast.  While I got ready, Dave got flowers

Who can that attractive girl be?

Or something like that?  & then suddenly it was time to go!  We were suddenly late.  

Two of Dave’s friends, Reid & Sally, have an incredible apartment somewhere in Brooklyn & that’s where we were having our wedding.  We got there around 2:30 to finish our preparations.  But the wedding was at 3:00, how dramatic!  Dave ran out for alcohol & Sally & I handled the flowers.  

I washed my face & hands before I come

I did!

Fortunately the guests didn’t start trickling in until kind of late.  I draped my paper chain over the grand piano & stuck the figurines into the cake.  

We couldn't find a bride & groom

I really couldn’t get over how nice our free venue was.  Sally even brought out a nice lacy tablecloth & some family crystal!  Our first guest arrived, looking very nice in his suit, & Sally disappeared to put on a pretty pink dress.  Reid was wearing a top hat.  Dave got dressed too.  

I had my hair done nicely but I didn’t want to put on the dress until the ceremony because otherwise walking down the aisle would be a little anti-climactic for everyone! Tick tock.  3:30.  Hardly anyone had arrived.  But then shortly before four they all came at once.  & suddenly it was very festive!  We all drank Manhattans, or just plain old whiskey with ice, & a lot of introductions were made.  I was shocked & pleased to see Fernando arrive with his girlfriend.  I haven’t seen him in AGES.  We talked oatmeal & artsy movies.  Also, a girl named Maya whom I knew from my high school days came.  She was wearing a huge faux fur coat & pink feathers in her hair.  How nice.  How fun.  I hadn’t seen her in half a decade at least.  

We passed around a sheet of empty lines where people could fill in nouns & verbs & so forth.  Because we were going to have Mad Libs vows.  Finally, after some socializing, I retired to the downstairs bathroom to put on my bridal attire.  Suddenly nervous!  Very.   

I texted Dave to make sure they were ready & then I came up the stairs.  Sarah was taping the whole thing with my MacBook & Reid played a bridal march on the grand piano & as I started to walk up I was adopted by a nice man named Ben.  I was so glad to have a fake father to walk me down the aisle!  It hadn’t occurred to me but it’s really important.  It made it MUCH less scary.  Then Eric, who was officiating, gave a really nice & surprisingly serious & touching speech. It was also surprisingly LONG!  Just like a real wedding. 

Dave & I read the vows (I promised to “wipe his cigarettes with my hamsters” & “investigate him with my body”) to cheers & laughter & then we exchanged rings & Eric announced “You may kiss the bride on the cheek!”  Hurrah.  We processed back down the aisle arm in arm & then we all congratulated each other & drank cut the cake & ate it & had a small party.  

The video is, at 11 minutes, apparently too long to upload to YouTube & I haven’t figured out how to edit it down with my new computer.  But maybe someday I will post it.  For now, you may make do with a few trillion photographs after the jump.

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There’s no rest for the weary (& none for the wicked either), or so the saying(s) go(es).  So last week I was lived by Grant & busy, very. Or he was.  I followed.

hard at work or heartily working?

I stayed with Grant at his apartment in Manhattan (I slept on the couch, you snoops) & basically shadowed him as he went about his busy life as a young entrepreneur, leaving on occasion to run some important errands.

I might as well be frank with you now, as I won’t have it in me for long.  One of the nicest things about living with (or in close proximity to) my weekly puppetmaster (remember the winery? Or Ptolemy’s house?) is that the schedule becomes much more fluid & natural.  If you recall, my livers’re allowed to remove directives & when one is actually living with Emily Lived By, it’s easier to modify things according to one’s own convenience. So, without further ado:

THE DIDN’T's

• Go to farmers market
• Eat the second best pizza EVER at Otto’s
• Go to roommates bday party
• Shop at Bloomingdales
• Write a poem while hanging out at the park (converted from train tracks)
• Establish a regular gym regimen at my gym

~and~

THE SORT-OF DID’s

• Get brunch with mimosas at the Boat House– we got a beer at the Boat House one afternoon
• Get coffee at Pret a Manger– drank Pret a Manger coffee in living room
• Eat the best pizza EVER at Little Frankie’s– sick of pizza, went to Frankie’s where I had, for the first time, Ossobuco.
• Call Levi and Whitney for emotional support– see we tried twice but they weren’t in.

But everything else on the list, I did.  Everything on the list & more. I carried it off with aplomb, I must say.  Grant & I made quite a team.

We packed a lot into the week.  I went from personal assistant (picking up mail & 1. grocery shopping at Whole Foods with his credit card, 2. sitting in on conference calls, taking 3. cell phone calls) to personal assistant (cooking dinner, washing dishes) in about two seconds flat. Made a roast chicken that made life seem temporarily worth living.  Made a nourishing soup from the bones.  We also had a few 4. all night diner runs, a hot dog or two.

hot diggity dog.

We were like, so New York because we went to Papaya something or whatever it is called?  But whatever they’re called, I know they’re very authentic New York because they were featured in the 90s romantic comedy Fools Rush In.  Now there’s a movie to watch every time it’s on television.

Am I right?

We 5. Found a new apartment.

Selling, selling, sold.

& I 6. checked emails & went to business meetings.

eating $6 bagel = you've made it

sign, sign, sign

Went to the bank, too. A fancy one.

One can never have too many mortgages, that's what I always say

Drank expensive tequila.  7. Walked in Central Park. By the end of the week, it was as if we’d met each other more than twice, for sure.

We even, occasionally, had time for fun.

we 8. drank tea in an ING bank, for example

We spent some time in bars.

Something, something, those something nights!

But generally I was just awed at how much & how hard Grant works.  I’d silently play Bejeweled as he wandered the apartment on his bluetooth & seeding ideas™.  Words can’t really do it justice & (do you hear me, world?) I’m not going to try I’m not going to try.

New York is nice. New York is fun. Boy is there a lot of traffic in New York.

Also, as a sidenote, I’ve decided that I’ve hit bottom when it comes to my internet addiction. Now some people can have a little Facebook here, a little Skype there, & even a blog on the side now & then NO PROBLEM.  But if you’re Emily You-Know-Who, the internet is a toxic, life-destroying time-suck, & before you know it you wind up weeping covered in blood crouching in somebody’s basement.  I’d like to prevent that from happening in the future, so I’m on severe internet restrictions this week– don’t expect to hear much from me.  Twitter, Skype, & LivedBy are all explicitly banned in this week’s directives.

What are these week’s directives?

A surprise! A surprise!  A surprise!

Now, is there anything missing?

Oh yes.

A picture of me.

Obviously.

Q. How can I do the past week justice?

A. Trick question.  There is no justice in the world. I can’t.

Q. Was it a good week? Was it a busy week?

A. Yes, that always makes it harder.

& some time has passed since then, & I’ve traveled hundreds of miles, & now I’m in New York & it’s winter & since each week feels like a lifetime, it seems like a lifetime ago that I was

MONDAY:

Waking up at 7:30 to prepare for my hour-long commute to Pasadena.  & getting in the car at 9:00 (groggy) & driving some unfamiliar highways with only Marlboro Reds & radio static to keep me conscious (but barely).

I got more used to it as the week went on.

Anyway, I, first things first: I was going to Pasadena because I was working each day from 10-4 with a very nice man named Thomas Kellogg. He’s kind of the mastermind of this amazing arts organization Mentor Artists Playwrights Project (MAPP) that runs intensive playwriting workshops which connect youth in at-risk communities one-on-one with established playwrights & actors.

On the first day, I learned the necessary background about MAPP & the work they do, read through a manuscript of the mentors’ book, & helped Tom create multiple Facebook groups for the project.

Kellogg's grrreat.

Then we just kind of chatted for awhile.  & soon it was time for me to go meet Erin Matthews in Hollywood.

I'll follow the sun

Oh wow there was no traffic so I arrived early & I was met on the street by a happy blonde girl with a little poodle that was barking at me in a non-obnoxious way.  So it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.  We went up to her apartment which kind of reminded me of a gingerbread house & she got changed & Liam (the dog) played with a stuffed Santa. Liam was, by turns, amorous & violent.  Like all real men, am I right? Or am I right.

Dog? On it.

I really liked Erin, & we talked about movies & acting, & so on & so forth & then we went out for a drink with her boyfriend, who was also an actor, & also really nice.  & then we went to one of their friends’ places & watched the absolute best documentary in the world.  American Movie.

Cheerful & bland so far?  Well, sue me.  Cheerful & bland go together like murder & suicide.

TUESDAY

It was back to Tom’s & I sat in on a meeting & just did, you know, general office-y stuff.  I don’t remember.  We had good times.  Working as a personal assistant comes pretty naturally to me, so long as the demands of the job aren’t super complex.  It’s so relaxing to sit at a desk & stuff.

I left early because I had to go meet Eric Geffner at his practice in Beverly Hills.  What should I tell you?  Man it was rainy so the traffic on the 10 was terrible, & I was terrified I would be late.  Also therapists make me nervous, do you feel me?   Do you hear what I’m saying?

But I made it & I wasn’t late.

Now that's an awfully long hallway isn't it

Anyway Dr. Eric Geffner is a specialist in gambling addiction so it didn’t take too much courage for me to cross that particular threshold.

I sat in wait.

Gambling & I have something in common, then

(heartbreaking! ha. get it.)

& then, you know, I had a seat.  I’m glad he wasn’t of the “Have a seat anywhere” school.  He was of the “Have a seat on the couch” school.

Now where exactly does it hurt?

We basically just chatted, as I wasn’t really in for a session, & got to know each other a little.  There was a mutual exchange of hopes & dreams & observations & so on & then it was time to get down to business.  He gave me a run-down of what he does in his practice & wanted me to “blog about” the following points.

• Gambling is what they call “the hidden addiction”
• 90% of Americans gamble at some point in their lives but this does not make them gambling addicts.  Because gambling is so common, this means gambling addiction is not always taken seriously or seen as a “real” addiction.
• Gambling addiction is just as serious as any other addiction & gambling addicts behave like any other addicts.  You know, losing homes, families, going to jail, gambling money they don’t have.  Etc.
• Gambling is a massive industry “more parasitic than the tobacco industry.”
• If you or someone you know is a gambling addict, there is help & much of it is free. You should call 1-800 GAMBLER or visit StopGamblingNow.Com

Ok, so, that’s a first for this blog, right?  But I’m just following doctor’s orders.

He also gave me a CD & DVD on gambling addiction but they shattered in my purse.  But I knew a little about this stuff already.  I recommended a documentary on gambling addiction he hadn’t seen & also discussed the fairly recent discovery that the Parkinson’s medication Mirapex has been proven to cause gambling addiction in some patients. Guys, I’m such a jack of all trades.

& then, well Time’s Up.  “We’ll have to continue this later,” said Eric, “or never.”  & then we shook hands.

& then I went to Borders, & called Eliza Jane Schneider & bought a book of collected Pinter plays & Eliza said she was teaching a voice acting for radio class that evening, so she said I should attend that.

I got ready to do that but she’d given me the wrong address so I was late.  I was going to be late anyway because I got lost & ended up taking Mulholland & nearly DYING.  But, since the address I had was three blocks away & on the other side of the street from the real one, I was um, really late.  I wandered by lots of places.  A large abandoned car wash.  A casting call.

But eventually I found it.

You know, there were these phonetics symbols written on a large paper easel & stuff like that.  & Eliza stood at the front of the room saying things, like about how she drove around America in an ambulance interviewing people & taping them, & how she did voices for South Park & stuff, & sings opera, meanwhile demonstrating her skill by dropping now & then into various different voices like German Lady & Keira Knightley & wow, yes, it is very impressive, she can do a lot of funny voices.  I can’t do funny voices at all.  But there is a whole world of people who spend a lot of time doing this very important & difficult job & I’m not being sarcastic.

Then they went into a Real Live Studio & the students practised their British accents & Cajun accents & got some feedback.

I wasn't allowed in because what if A FIRE?

& then afterwards I went for a drink with Eliza & the sound engineer & his friend from Minnesota.  The woman from Minnesota’s job was training people who work for corporations not to have accents.

& then I went home.

What did I do on WEDNESDAY?  Oh yes, Wednesday I worked for Tom.  I took a long lunch because he was at Tai Chi.  & I made a video of me that’s really boring.  This man I know said I should have my head examined for thinking I should put it on the internet.  Dude, I should have my head examined for numerous reasons.  For one thing, I’m as smart as Einstein & twice as beautiful.  Anyway so I talked in a funny voice & looked at a squirrel.

But I also addressed envelopes & did some very serious things.

In the evening I met up with David Rodwin who is a writer on the Jonas Bros. show.  & we had to go to a concert by Nick & the Administration?  Which is I think the youngest Jonas brother’s band.  He was wearing a suit, because he says he likes to wear suits.  He bought me a beer, a large one, which was nice, because I needed it very much & my bank was being very uncooperative so by this point in my life I only had one dollar in cash & four in change.

The concert was how you think it would be.  Lots of teenage girls screaming.  I think Nick Jonas was totally phoning it in but David Rodwin disagreed.  So then we agreed to disagree.  I predict tragedy in his future.  But also great success.

Is success a greater tragedy than failure?

& then after the concert, ears kind of ringing, David bought me some noodle soup & lent me $20.  What a nice man.  Sometimes being the world’s orphan step-child comes in handy.

THURSDAY I didn’t have to work so I, instead, worked out my personal finances & took care of some Family Things.  Just because I don’t write about my Home Life doesn’t mean I don’t have one!  & it’s a pretty wild one too, I’ll have you know.  Also there are some other project-related projects on the horizon oh ok in a nutshell I lived myself for a few hours because you can’t really live anyone unless you really live yourself.

& then I met up with (photographer/Jack-of-All-Trades) David Newsom & Bert (or Burt? his dog).  B(e/u)rt was very cute, very movie mutt looking.  We met David’s wife, (director/Jack-of-All-Trades) Sian Heder at her work where she was editing this short web piece for before the door.  I met a ton of, I don’t know, producers & actors & things? I told them about my project, & shook hands & they were all nice.

All sweetness &/or light

They showed me these pumpkins they have.

the other one has Mr. Spock on it

& some other stuff, like toothsome white smiles & some candles made out of Zachary Quinto’s hands.

Then David & Sian & I went on a night hike & poor Burt (or Bert?) stayed in the car.  We saw a coyote & an owl (some precise kind of owl) & heard a baby owl & there was a full moon. So very pleasant by night, very bright by moonlight, & not at all creepy as I thought it would be. & I liked David & Sian very much, insofar as you can tell such a thing when meeting under such odd circumstances.

We were late for a dinner party & so we went to that.  It was all independent film producers.  I explained my project, over the course of the evening, three or four times in detail & there was that mixed sort of thing where everyone’s interested, & so that’s very gratifying, & at the same time I’m so bored by it & I only want to talk about what all the other people do.  It’s funny but after awhile, you know, six months or so, of people asking you “What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to you all year?”  the charm of it kind of goes out.

Knock knock

I was dressed in hiking clothes, which made things awkward, but by now I can run through dinner parties of strangers on autopilot. & everyone was intelligent & humorous & we had corned beef & cabbage & lots of strange names to discuss (Neptune Alexander 17? Storer Prebble the IV. & more).  The woman hosting the party had an Oscar for a documentary & a degree from SLC.  I’m afraid I don’t remember her name.  & the guy who directed The Hottie & the Nottie was there & he was nice.  Everyone was nice.  It was one of those melancholy evenings I get occasionally with this project.  You know, This isn’t my life but I wouldn’t mind if it was.

Who IS there?

It’s a funny kind of lonely feeling, being the welcomed interloper in a happy group of friends.  So I’m not sure why I’ve decided to make a career of it.

Later it turns out that TD (remember TD, anyone?) grew up with Sian.  ♪ It’s a small, small world. ♪♪

& there’s simply no escape.

& then it was FRIDAY.  I didn’t need to work till one.  But anyway I left at noon & the traffic was killer & it took me two hours (instead of 45 minutes) to get to Pasadena.  I know it’s thrilling to hear about it.  It was thrilling to live!

1/2 a mile per hour!

Oh, hold it, sarcasm is the lowest form of humor.  Anyway, I got to work at 2:00 but Tom is an awesome boss & he was ok with that.

Did some work stuff, got out of his way with a long lunch, & then drove him to Marina del Rey around 7:00 so he could be close to the airport.

& that was my Friday.

SATURDAY is even shorter.  I was supposed to be in touch with Jessica Steen about helping out with make-up on some amazing sounding photo-shoot, but then our signals were crossed so it didn’t happen.  That was ok.  I had Real Life things to deal with, so it was nice to have the extra time to, you know, deal with Real Life & sit in bed & watch television.

Stuck On You is actually a really good movie

Anyway in the evening I was to go to Jessica’s party. & go I did.  I met lots of nice people, mostly producers again.  But also lots of people where, after explaining myself, I’d go “& what do you do?” & they’d say something like “Oh, we’re mainly involved in the circus.”

O my life is a 3-ring circus right now.

There was a firepit & the crowd was welcoming & all in all it was a satisfying end to a very busy week.

The End.

& with that, I went home.  Badder but wiser?  Oh something like that.  Some clever pun! I’m grasping, but you know, grasp for the moon & land among oh something.

Speaking of grasping, I did make contact with Clay Westervelt during the week, I’ll have you know.  But we were both so busy we decided we’d just do something later.  You know, he was going to Vegas, scouting locations, & I’m already familiar with film sets… maybe he’ll live me some other time.

There were two others.  One whose juggling class I did not attend, one who did not return my call.  But all in all, I’d say it was a very successful week.

Actually, one of the busiest of all time!  The first week that, since I began blogging once weekly, made me regret that decision.

So let’s all give Montana a hand for one of the most complex & thoughtful schedules of the year.

Still, onward, ever upward.  I’m in New York.  Who knows what next.