by Judy Greer
So I challenged myself to write a manifesto. To think about what’s important to me. Think about who I love. About what I love. What and who makes me laugh. When do I feel best about myself, and put all that into writing. How do I plan on leaving the planet? Do I care about the planet? What do I care about? If all of my things got taken away, what would still be meaningful to me, besides getting new things? So here is the latest version of my letter to myself.
Keep your life simple and stylish and earnest.
Do good and donate your time and money to something you care about.
Make people laugh.
Be frank.
Always give people a second chance—but rarely a third.
Live light, travel light, and be light.
Forget shit and move on.
Make everyone you love feel loved.
Waste not, want not. Reuse stuff.
Stop trying to get a tan and straighten your hair—you’re just not made that way.
Go to the movies, go to the library, go to the park.
Try to make every day feel as close to a vacation as possible.
Floss.
I forget this stuff a lot, one thing is stolen from a Yogi tea bag, one I found on Pinterest, but if I did a fraction of this, half of the time, I’d think I was a real champion. But I’m a work in progress. I’ll probably never be on a company softball team, I have no cubicle in which to store my glittered evening bag, and my days are, if I’m not working, unstructured and disorganized. I have not mastered the art of time management, but I try not to beat myself up about it. There’s a lot of peaks and valleys in the life I’ve chosen, but my mission statement reminds me to focus on what matters most. When life is awesome, it keeps my head from getting too big, and when things are shitty, it reminds me that my life is still pretty awesome.
Acknowledgments
I am forever in debt to the following people—
Christina Malach. To quote our new favorite server, “You have the shit job. She gets all the fun, she gets all the recognition, she gets all the money.” Amazing. I hope this wasn’t a shit job for you, but if my first drafts didn’t drive you to the bottle, I don’t know what would. Thank you. I will never be able to stop thanking you for making my book a book, for making me seem like a writer, and for all the love and consideration you gave to all of my stories and thoughts. I loved this whole process with you. And thank the sweet baby Jesus they don’t have WiFi at Zara, or we wouldn’t have made one single deadline.
Cait Hoyt. This is all your fault. Thank you for watching all those Reluctantly Healthys and thinking I was funny and had a book in me. I didn’t know that about myself, but thank you for seeing it. And thank you for your work on my proposal, I would never have sold it without your notes and editing in the first place. So you see, this really is all your fault. (Hi to Penny!)
All the people I love at Doubleday. Bill Thomas, you said I was a writer. No one ever told me that before. Thank you, it still brings tears to my eyes. Suzanne Herz, Todd Doughty, Joe Gallagher, John Fontana, Bette Alexander, and Pei Koay, you are my special effects department. Thank you for bringing this book to life.
My amazing team at CAA. Jeremy Plager, thanks for believing in me eleven years ago, believing in me today, and every day in between. Sean Grumman, I love that you never take no for an answer when it comes to my career. Jim Nicolay, when you get me a job, I get to go to work in my pajamas. That might be the best of all…
The rest of Team Judy: Fred Toczek, Eric Suddleson, Jillian Fowkes, Annie Schmidt, Tara Friedlander, and Lucille Selig. You guys are so wonderful, hardworking, and so fun to hang out with at all the weird events we have to go to, thank God.
Carter Smith. Thank you forever for shooting my book cover. Karla Welch, Kemal Harris, Erica Cloud, Traci Franklin, Harry Josh, and Dottie, I will probably never feel more beautiful and glamorous in my life. I cannot thank you enough and I want to take you all to the DMV with me when my driver’s license expires, if you’re in L.A. and have time? Please?
The geniuses at the Apple Store Genius Bar who were patient and kind to me, didn’t laugh at my questions, and kept my computer running while I wrote this book, and especially for bringing it back to life when I killed it and had a nervous breakdown. To my gorgeous (and handsome) contributors: Sarah Dwyer, Kelly McAdams, Sean Gunn, Lola Glaudini, and Janet Higdon. You made me seem way cooler than I am. Except for Janet. You just had to tell it like it is, didn’t you?
My family, Emilee and Lucas Johnsen, you guys are the best. I didn’t even scratch the surface of how awesome it is to be your stepmom. I love you both and am endlessly proud of you. (Still would love it if you ate more greens, but whatever. Someday …) Beverly Evans, my other smokin’ hot grandma, I am so thankful for all our time together. Judie Johnsen, thanks for raising the greatest man I could ever hope to marry. I am not worthy, but I promise I will continue to try to be.
Thanks to the late Judy Hershman, Frank Evans, and Charles Saucier. I miss them so much every day.
My parents, Mollie and Rich Evans. You guys put up with so much from me, and still do. I cannot believe how much faith you’ve always had in me. Way more than I have ever or will ever have in myself. You always think I can do it, whatever “it” is. Thank you. And thanks for paying for college. I am just now realizing how much that must have cost.
Dean Johnsen. I wanted to include you in this list, but since you already got single-card billing before the title I’m leaving it to this, I love you.
And…
David Gardner. Just in case people don’t know, there is no Judy Greer without a David Gardner. So, yeah. He’s the boss of me. Thank you, David, for working nonstop and tirelessly for me since the day we met. I can’t even imagine what this business would be like without you, but I am sure I wouldn’t last a day. Thank you for everything, all the time.
