The Chronicles of Sweets Magee, Vol. 2

Sweet Lord, this week was definately intense, a whole lotta embarrassing, and completely worth it.

President's day started off slow, I ran a few errands but didn't see Sweets at all. I decided that since she's playing an illustrator, I would get her a copy of my favorite children's book, Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge, and I left it in her apt. with a cute little inscription saying it's for research purposes and I hope she enjoys it as much as I did.

Tuesday morning I met her down on Chambers street because they were doing camera tests to see how hair, makeup and wardrobe looked on screen. She had been in L.A. that weekend, so I asked her how her screen test went for this big studio romantic comedy she was auditioning for with this very cute tv actor whom I love dearly. She gushed about how adorable he was and said she thought it went really well. I was kind of standing around while she got her makeup done and she told me to grab a chair and sit next to her. The makeup artist asked if we were best friends, and she didn't miss a beat before saying "we are now." We read magazines, gossiped about celebs and everything was totally hunky dory. As we headed outside she turned to me and said "oh i forgot to thank you for the book, it was the sweetest thing." Yay me.

Later that day we ran some errands when she gets a call from her publicist informing her that Page Six is going to run an item that she's engaged and pregnant. She turns to me and says "not only are both untrue, but they're not just saying I'm pregnant, they're saying I'm four months pregnant which means they think I look chubby." Oh, sweet, sweet Sweets, I heart you.

We stopped by C.O.Bigelow's on the way back to her apartment, which is this great old drugstore that now sells high end items. She was like a kid in a candy shop, grabbing creams and makeup like money doesn't matter which it doesn't because she's rich. We paroused the fancy candles since she's a fanatic and I smelled one that was really nice and showed it to her. She liked it so much she bought it. Looky, looky, we've got the same taste. We moved onto the grocery store and she got a voicemail in the middle of the meat department and kind of walked away from me for some privacy. She squeaked a little when she got off the phone and said "That was (uber famous Oscar winning actress), we just finished a movie together and she's amazing, if you ever get the chance to work with her, do." Um, okay, I'll do that. I walked her back to her apt. and helped her carry her bags up and as I turned to leave she handed me something. It was the fancy candle I picked out and she said "thank you so much for all your help." There are perks?!?!?! Delightful.

random interjection-Jared Leto came into the production offices because the other side of the floor is Chapter 27, a film that just wrapped where Leto plays Mark David Chapman, the guy who killed Lennon. When word spread that he was roaming the floor, all the girls giggled at the news and scanned the office but all they could see was some fat guy joking arround. It was then that they realized the fat guy was Jared, the weight was a result of looking more like the killer, and all the girls exhaled disappointment because it was such a buzzkill since he's usually pretty hot.

Wednesday-the black day-a.k.a. the most embarrassing day of my entire life. I share this story with you because I must let my public know how utterly ridiculous my life can be. Some of you may not look at me the same way again, and that's fine. Just know, it was an emergency. Sweets had rehearsal from 10am-4pm and I was meeting some guy to hook up wireless internet in her apt. around 10:30am. The guy comes over and realizes he needs to get another part and asks if I'll be here to let him in. I tell him yes and he leaves. A half-hour lapses, he's still not back. An hour goes by, still nothing. Suddenly the two very large cups of coffee I've had that morning are starting to work their digestive magic. I really have to use the bathroom, but I can't because it's Sweets' and that's so weird. The hour and a half mark hits and I'm in pain. I can't leave because I'm in a residential neighborhood and the amount of time it will take to find a public bathroom will be too much. I have to do it, I have to poop.

I duck into the bathroom, take care of business, and flush the toilet. Only it won't flush. I've done something taboo, pooped in another person's bathroom and God, or Murphy's Law, or whoever is punishing me for my stupidity. I tear the bathroom and kitchen apart looking for a plunger but there's nothing. It's just me, left alone in the apartment with my crime. I look at my watch, unsuccessfully flush the toilet again, and decide I have to get a plunger. I book it out of her building faster than Kentucy Derby horses out of the gate at the sound of a pistol. Duane Reade is out of stock and the discount drug store doesn't carry them, but they point me in the direction of a hardware store. I grab the only plunger in the store, throw money at the cashier and run as fast as my out of shape legs will take me. I cut up Fifth ave because the traffic lights are in my favor and who should I see walking in my direction but Steven Spielberg!!! Jee, maybe I'd say something to him if I weren't clutching a giant rubber plunger under one arm and sweating like a hooker in church at the thought of not being able to cover up my mistake in time. Then I relax a little because it's only 1pm and she has rehearsal until 4pm. At least I have some time.

My phone rings. It's SM. "Hey, I've got an hour off for lunch so I'm heading back to the apt. and wanted to see if you were still there?" HOLY JESUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There are times in life when you have to own up to your mistakes because no amount of stalling will save you from the pangs of punishment. I fessed up to what I had done. I told her I was so embarrassed, I used her bathroom and I clogged her toilet, but I'm going to fix it, I PROMISE. Sweets laughs and tells me it's totally fine, it's not a big deal, but I'm shaking. I meet her back at her apt. where I plunge for what seems like a lifetime and to no avail. I keep popping out to the living room to apologize profusely and she keeps telling me to relax, it's really not a problem. But it is Sweets, it is. The internet guy finally comes back and then the realtor with a tivo cable box and I ask him if he knows of a plumber I can call? He tells me he'll get the super to come and snake it. As she heads back for rehearsal I promise her that I will never use her bathroom again and she laughs and tells me to stop apologizing. I have never been more mortified in my entire life. My nerves could stand a drink. After Sweets heads back to rehearsal, I call Tootsie to tell her what happened but she tells me to stop because she's laughing so hard she's convulsing.

Thursday is more of an office day, with the occasional e-mail exchange peppered with flashbacks of the previous day's debacle and wondering if she's going to complain to her manager that I'm a terrible assistant, or that if I ever do get to meet her bf, when introduced it will be "oh, you're the girl who..." But wait a minute, she e-mails me to say that she and her friend R are going to dinner and maybe a movie, and if they go to a movie would I like to join them? Well, I was planning on washing my hair, but YES! 7pm rolls around and I get a call from Sweets saying they nixed the movie. Oh well, I guess the idea of hanging out with SM was too good to be true. Then she tells me she just found out she got the part in the big studio romantic comedy and she's meeting friends for dinner to celebrate and would "love for me to join her." That's right, she used the word "love."

I meet her at this restaurant called Village on 9th street and 6th ave and there's a glass of champagne waiting for me at the table. Sweets is there with her friends R, H and D and her manager, J. J leaves after the celebratory cocktail and the five of us order more drinks, enjoy muscles with pommes frittes, every dessert on the menu and more tasty beverages. I even let Sweets in on one of my little rituals when drinking champagne. I asked the waiter for the cork and immortalized the evening by writing "dinner with the gang/(the name of the movie she just landed) 2.23.06" on it and handed it Sweets. She loved my quirky little memento and her friends were great; D even jokingly only referred to me as "assistant" all night.

At the end of the meal the question of where to head next was posed and the answer quickly became Soho House. Sex and the City fans will recognize the name from the episode where Samantha finds a membership card in the bathroom and sneaks the girls in to use the pool. It's uber chic and you have to pay a hefty annual fee after being approved to join. I thank laziness and luck that I even looked half-way presentable since my casual clothes were dirty and I was forced to semi-dress up on account of falling behind on my laundry. In the cab ride over there the girls were telling me who we would be meeting up with and they kept referring to this guy D who is R's frenemy on account of their testy relationship. Sweets interjects saying, "he's got his own show on MSNBC." Ah-hah.

Soho House is really chic, lots of rich velvet curtains, leather couches and modern lighting fixtures. There's a billiards room, a balcony, and lots and lots of yuppies. Wannabe models linger by the bar hoping rich businessmen will buy them adult beverages, and the chairs are constructed in such a manner that you're forced into an awkward, exhibitionist pose when you sit in them. Sweets only ever introduced me as her "friend" C, but when the editor of a national men's magazine kept asking her how we knew each other, suspicious of the idea that I really was her pal, she finally caved and admitted I was her assistant. Ever the gentleman, he didn't hold back in telling his friends who I was for the rest of the night, but I could care less. More champagne was consumed and I couldn't help but sit back in my incredibly uncomfortable seat and take it all in, quietly laughing to myself. Then MSNBC guy walks in. He's quite charismatic and seems to love being the life of the party. Despite the fact that he kept flashing his "guns" and feeling his pecs, he's a very nice guy and constantly checked in on me to see if I wanted a drink (not in a creepy I want to get you drunk way).

More friend's came, including Sweets' manager and as the night wound down I decided it was time for me to head out. I stood up to leave, waving goodbye or shaking hands with everyone, but Sweets' manager leaned in and gave me this big, real hug. It completely caught me off-guard. Here's this Hollywood powerhouse who I only met a couple of hours ago, and he's clutching onto me. While we were hugging he whispered in my ear "thank you so much for taking care of her, helping her with everything. She loves you, loves you." The whole train ride home I was on cloud nine, I can't tell you how exhilarating it feels to work a job where you're appreciated. Coming from a position where I was constantly being degraded and "reminded" that I was supposedly less than someone because I was an assistant and a woman, and now to be so excited to go to work in the morning. To get to see how a movie is made from soup to nuts, and feeling like I belong here, feeling like I deserve this, like my hard work wasn't for nothing, it's just a really great feeling. Shooting starts on Monday, and it's going to be intense, we've only got a month to film which is really short, but I think it's going to be great.

What I've learned from this is that with every relationship, if you can get through the shit, you can get through anything.

tune in next week...