Emily, Lived By:

Oh dear friends.  I’m on the futon at my friend Zeahna’s house, & I’ve taken plenty of interesting pictures.  Unfortunately, I just went to plug my iPhone into the computer, & I’ve discovered I didn’t bring the cord!  The photos will have to come tomorrow.  

What have I done for the project today?  Nothing interesting. For life?  Plenty interesting.  However, no photos.  

I didn’t do ANY of my work on Eliot today, though I did read The Wasteland. That means that tomorrow I’m going to spend 8 hours on illustrations.  

I did do lots of nice things tonight.  I heard my friend’s band, The Marietta James, play. & I went to the hospital & ate a steak.  I also emailed with a lot of celebrities.  But since I have no photographs, I’ll leave that for tomorrow.  

Please, all. Sleep well. & may god grant you the serenity to accept the things you cannot change.

Today was a day much like any bother.  Yes, a day, much like any (bother!). I woke fully dressed on top of the covers.  I took off my boots & went back to sleep.  

Anyone who knows me knows I fall asleep in odd places.  A suitcase, for example, or the middle of an argument.  

After noon, I went to the hospital & stayed awhile. 

Alas, no apple juice to be had

I ate a burrito in the cafeteria. So much for my fruit & alcohol diet!  

When I came home, I read a little & then fell into a deep & curious sleep.  When I awoke I didn’t know where I was.  Or who. & I thought it was morning.  

But it wasn’t morning.  I went into the kitchen because the nurses weren’t here & stared at the same drawing from my Prufrock illustrations for four hours.  I wanted to fill it in.  

would you believe this took me three hours?

Since I took that picture, I’ve filled it in more.  I’m still not done with it.  

We all have our slow days.  

Now I’m watching Real Housewives of New York City.  I’m so glad it’s back on.  I’ll gossip about it in the comments if you like.  It’s not as if I have anything better to do.  

I read The Wasteland every night before bed.  & if I want a snack I eat stale bread.  

& look! I’ve kept it very brief.  Under 500 words by at least 200.  

Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.

Good night, ladies, good  night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.  

So this was another exciting day in the life of etc.  

Woke at 6:00am because a creepy burglar was rustling around in DF’s apartment.  DF’s at the hospital & so are his nurses & our housekeeper certainly doesn’t come at 6:00am.  So it must’ve been a prowler.  I didn’t want to leave my bedroom, because if it were a prowler, I could’ve been murdered.  I listened at the door, pondered a little, & then thought it wisest to retire to my bed & pull the blankets completely over my head.  Hiding under the bedclothes is the most practical way to solve any problem.  

All that fear made me very sleepy (any intense emotion makes me sleepy).  So the fear combined with the lack of oxygen put me out for another five hours.  When I awoke I was, so I thought, none the worse for the wear & the prowler was gone.  

But then when I got out of the shower I saw that he must’ve slit my lip open with a knife while I was sleeping.  Drat!  

marry, tis enough

But I consider myself lucky to have escaped with so little.  

Then I dressed nicely & went to the hospital & hung about in the ICU for awhile.  DF’s nurse is reading the Bible in 90 days with her sister.  She’s on track, though we can’t say the same for her sister.  

& then I went to the store.  I bought a cucumber, a zucchini, a sausage,  & a baguette, & before you ask, no, I don’t notice a theme.  I also bought several bottles, some toxic, some detoxifying, all delightful & delightfully over-priced.  

& then home.  I didn’t feel up to my work on Eliot quite yet so I tried chatroulette for the first time.  It was creepy & underwhelming but there was something appealing & illicit about it nonetheless, not just because I saw a LOT of men masturbating.  I researched Spam & looked in the mirror.  Nobody’s responded to the funny video I posted on Facebook.  

Then from 8:30-9:30 I made some preliminary sketches for Prufrock. 

stuff like this

From 11:00-12:30 I filled two in.  

(I googled old-fashioned lamp-post)

I spent the longest on one-night cheap hotels.  

here it's partially complete

& after I finished that one I called it quits for the night.  

I need to spend 20 hours on the project, all told.  Five yesterday, plus 0.5 buying supplies on Monday, plus 2.5 today– I’m right on target with just 12 more hours to go.  

Last night I read The Wasteland before bed & tonight I will do the same.  

As for this post, I’m under 500 words– BARELY!  I hope you enjoyed my outsider art. I’m going to put away my pencils & drink & watch Sex in the City.

It’s been ages since I posted daily. Can’t say it doesn’t feel good to be back.  

Wouldn’t have done it on my own, but our friend AR has included brief daily blogs among her directives.  So, for the rest of the week, you may look forward to 500 words (or less)/day.  

As you know, I’m to spend 20 hours this week working on a T.S. Eliot related project. I was thrilled by this order.  I’ve been meaning a long time to illustrate “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” as if it were a children’s story.   It is, by the way, in the public domain by now.  Yesterday I went to Blick & purchased a bunch of art supplies.   

This afternoon I’d intended to visit DF in the hospital, but when I called at noon he was having a tracheotomy.  So everyone thought I’d better let him sleep.  

It’s a big day in throat operations!  Another anonymous friend of mine got a piece of steak stuck in his/her  esophagus last night.  S/he may have a disease called eosinophilic esophagitis, yow.  Apparently the nurses laughed when s/he took off his/her shirt.

I went to the mall to see Alice in Wonderland. While waiting to go into the movie, I bought an Eliot book since I’m in the wasteland & don’t have Collected with me.  & then I tried on some clothes.  

Eliot makes me look fat

The movie was pretty stupid.  I realized (& I’ve posted as much on Twitter), that the problem with Tim Burton is that real life is stranger.  Sitting through that film was like entering a 2D universe. In the parking lot after the film I found myself thinking “Wow, this underground parking garage is so complex & vivid.”  

I went to the store & bought beer & a grapefruit for dinner.  Oh yeah, I’m getting fat.  So I’m going on an all fruit & alcohol diet.  

Once home I thought I’d better get to work.  I need to work, on average, four hours a day if I want to complete this week’s primary directive.  So 4:30pm I got out my watercolor pencils, & worked until 10:30, with two half-hour breaks.  So pat on the back for ME!  Just 15 hours left.  

Here’s what I have so far (shown here in various stages of completion).  

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

& there’re also some out-takes.  

egad!

what a disaster!

& now here I sit.  The kitchen table is covered in pencils & so on & Daily Show‘s on TV.  Have gotten used to being on my own here over the past several days. It’ll be strange everyone returns.

Dear Readers,

As you may have seen from the schedule I posted tonight, last week was Photography Week.  My father is an art photographer.  

Furthermore, as you may have seen from the schedule I posted today, I am only allowed to write posts under 500 words in length.  So THIS post will be short, however, you may look forward to daily blog posts for the rest of the week.  (I’m glad I got this out of the way.)

On MONDAY I went to my father’s house, where he showed me several books of photographs by classic photographers.  I don’t know anything about photography, but he has many of those photographs on his walls!  The originals! I saw at least 10 books by famous photographers.  The one I liked most was Lartigue.  My father has an original print of Lartigue’s in the kitchen.  

Anyway, that looking-at-books took me four hours.  My father gave me some useful tips & provided me with a camera. Then, I was ready to take on the world.

I should mention that, as this week began, DF (the terminally ill friend with whom I’ve been living) was hospitalized again with fluid in his lungs.  So I spent much of the week at the hospital/ICU, checking in.  It costs $20 for each 24 hours of parking, what a pain.  But it’s a very good hospital so I’m not complaining.  Also, I’m staying at DF’s apartment. & I must admit that when there is no screaming in the night, I sleep much more soundly!  

What I wanted to do for my Photography Assignment was go to Disneyland & take pictures of unhappy children.  But I needed to be close to the hospital so I didn’t.  I waited & waited ’til my waiter was sore, & went to the ICU day after day (“Emily, who did that carving on your hand? The one that turns it  into a face?”) & then finally (on Friday) went (instead of Disneyland) to the Santa Monica Pier.  

There, the lens shade fell off of my camera & I lost it. But I got one our two decent shots regardless.  

After the day was done, I went to my father’s, where I had a dinner of roast chicken & I played with his children.  The chicken was unparalleled, ditto his children.  

I showed my father my photos from the week.  They were somewhat disappointing, but he understood.  Due to DF, I’m in a strange situation.  

413 words. I have few left.  

My father showed me how to use Photoshop & then picked the photos he thought best.  He edited them with Photoshop, cropped them, etc. & told me they were the ones to post.  

Here.  

good photographs

should need

no caption!

that's right.

Anyway, if there’s anything this week taught me, it’s to see the world through different eyes. I’d tell you more, but I have only 14 more words to write. 

So, goodbye.  (Two words). I’ll see you all tomorrow.

So.  Last week I was lived by Jason Byrd, a nice young man.  I see him around sometimes & he’s generally wearing plaid, or at least that’s the way I picture him.  He gave me a simple schedule (only six listed directives) but everything is complicated when you’re inside it.  Maybe you’ve never been inside of anything, in which case you won’t understand.  

In any case, my life is all very interesting.  Pig feet for breakfast & pig ear for lunch, evenings all hotels & hospitals, a veritable parade of fathers.  Everyone I speak with is drunk or crazy or both & everyone I don’t know is whispering on the sidelines.  Well, & that’s just the past 48 hours– God knows what will come of the next 48. 

Regardless, when it comes to my friends (& fears) & fathers (& failings), I intend to go on keeping myself to myself.  How many boys have I kissed?  Number the stars why don’t you!  

On MONDAY I had some business to attend to.  

being with you, shortly

& who better to help with business than a business manager.  I went to one.  

That was in the afternoon.  Afterwards, I drove out to the beach & watched the sunset. 

you know what they say

even the sun goes down

& then when it was dark I ate some steamed clams.  It was good to be back in Malibu.  I grew up there, after all.  At least a few inches.  

I got home much later that night & wrote a comic strip featuring a plastic clothes hanger, a martini shaker, & a wallet as characters.  

color me impressed

It was thoroughly mediocre but a nice way to pass the time.  I’d show you each little drawing but I think you’d like to reserve space in your brain for more interesting things.  The last line is Drat, Martini Shaker wins again!  Jason can see the whole thing, some day.  I’ll give it to him at the bar.  

& then I went to bed.  TUESDAY I was only supposed to smoke three cigarettes all day.  So I didn’t speak to anyone who wasn’t crazy &/or, you know, & stayed inside almost all day.  In the afternoon I did leave the house to see Shutter Island alone.  The popcorn here is no good but that doesn’t matter.  

Anyway, Emily, how did it make you feel?  Vital & disconnected.  Perhaps disconnected because vital?  

On WEDNESDAY I had to paint a self portrait.  I’m not much of a painter.  I drove out to West Hollywood & picked up some paints & canvas from Lauren.  Do you remember when we did the body prints?  & then came back to my little cave & looked in the mirror.  

you want me to paint you a picture?

i'll paint you a "picture"

or something.  God I’m not much of a painter.  Those colors!  That nose!  But it was a pleasant hour, I’ll give you that.  It feels good to be occupied.  

That evening I went out with Lauren to get a hamburger but then we stayed out very late.  We drank some wine & I helped married men with their marriages, as one does. We got dragged to a very strange club full of models & things at the end of it.

 For THURSDAY, anyway, we’d planned to meet Jason at 8:00am for a hike to the Hollywood sign.  But he cancelled at 5:00am, & Lauren called me at 7:30am feeling sick, so we rescheduled for Saturday & I went back to bed. 

I wonder what I did after that?  

Well, to be frank, it doesn’t matter.  Because my final three directives depended on Jason’s participation &, unfortunately, the driving range was not feasible anymore.  We got our lines crossed on Oldboy too– I needed him to provide me with the movie & day by day that fell apart– & on Saturday (the day of our hike) it rained.  The things they say about the best-laid plans would make a sailor blush.  

Sometimes it goes that way.  Sometimes things come apart.  It’s more than “That’s life”– it’s part of The Project, too.  Sometimes failure is the point of things.  I didn’t know what I was doing when I set out, I didn’t have any particular goal.  I wanted, only, to see what would happen.  In some ways it felt like I might, with my man-made God structure, expose the structure of fate…  

It’s late & I shouldn’t be philosophical.  This is absolutely the wrong forum for it, whatever you all might think. I prefer to keep my private thoughts private until they’re ready. I’m saving all that for the “real art” next year.  

You know, I’m so relieved to be almost done with all this.  This hasn’t been only an exercise in discipline & self-control & courage & creativity– it’s also been an exercise in futility & bitterness & rage & disappointment.  I am, at this point, so well-versed in human weakness (yours, more than my own, but my own too) that I am probably a little bit dangerous. While it hasn’t been fun, I happen to think that fun & goodness are mutually exclusive. & I am determined to see this through to the end, however half-heartedly.  

I can’t wait to have a real address & a secret identity.  I can’t wait to find some normal job & take up knitting & write my book.  

I guess you want to know what I did on SATURDAY.  

All I know is this: 

I ate a large steak.

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.

Read the rest of this entry »

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.