It's no wonder I will never be a published authour. I would get paid for one thing and write something totally off the wall.
Publisher: M, you were supposed to write about your experience as a Kosher certification consultant* in Brooklyn, New York during 1983.
Me: But I'm not Jewish. And I was only born in 1980.
Publisher: I don't understand.
Me: Well, I don't really know much about Judaism or what you wanted me to write about specifically so I wrote a children's book on the benefits of wearing eye cream as a preventative measure at an early age.
Fired.
I digress. I am making a promise to now make more of an effort to write about my experiences in this grand city that will always allude to actually having a steamy love affair with a man. However, there is a slight problem here. In order to write about this city and all its charm, I need to leave the house and actually walk the streets.
Ah ha.
Leave the house you say?
Hmmmm...
Difficult.
I am in a bit of a pickle over here now, you see?!
Well, I guess I just have to put on some pants and fire up this fizzling love affair again.
Speaking of putting on some pants, I should mention that this week has definitely been a sort of 'pants optional' kind of week. One of the perks of living alone and having no where to be on any particular day is that you don't ever need to wear pants. Or get out of your pajamas or shower for that matter. I realize what this sounds like. One might assume that I have taken to a life of indolence and filth and am living in total squalor however, in my defense, what exactly would you do if you had the luxury of no schedule, total solitude, and a crazy creative force working through you?? You wouldn't wear pants, and neither do I. Also in my defense, although I may sleep whenever I feel like it (sometimes 3 pm and other times it's 3 am) and don't shower as often as the rest of the civilized world, I keep an immaculate house. Well, it's clean and I don't live in such a sty that I fear 'drop-by's', not that I have many people here that would just drop-by. When you have four friends the likeliness of this happening are almost nil.
And so, here I be. Rethinking my attitude towards this blog and, therefore, towards my current situation. It's a tough one, being here, everyday having sharp pangs of doubt about my entire existence and with nobody around to tell me that yes I'm crazy for being here but it's ok and I'm ok. I just have Sofia and she is probably a little more on the 'cukoo' side than I am. But hey, today was a good day, and that's a start. I showered, did some laundry, went to the store, cooked a real meal (not cereal for once), watched a very inspiring movie about origami** (yes, it was totally inspiring and everyone should watch it, especially if you love art or science or physics or engineering or some or all of the above) and wrote ALL day. Yes, yes I did. I spent this entire day writing. Nothing more. I didn't paint, I didn't sew, I didn't draw, sketch... nada. Oh, I did map out a design for a new leather piece. I'll make it tomorrow. Tonight I will bury my nose into the original edition of Bertrand Russell's Autobiography. I wish I could marry that man.
**note: my promise of keeping things light and solely about Montreal is meant to be taken with a grain of salt (I'm smirking as I write this). If this blog is any indication of how my brain works, tomorrow I will be writing about the deep, dark, gut-wrenching, drowning in tears depression that I am in. You just never know. But I will do my best to stick to my guns...
*experts on Judaism who ensure that food is prepared in accordance with Jewish law
**Independent Lens: Between the Folds (exploring origami), directed by Vanessa Gould [2008]
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