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Evoking 1960’s Iconography

Ann Margaret

Astoria, Queens

May 2010

“Is it too much?” she asks as she poses with an unlit cigarette.

A Serious Weekend

On our way to wonder at William Kentridge.

*love in an elevator*

*how to commute*

*how to commute*

Ladies Home Journal

*a perfect table in a perfect dining room for a perfect party*


*from the devil's gaping maw*

washing windows

*then the one on the left waved at me and I died from embarrassment*

*all photos courtesy of my Verizon Wireless Satan Owns My Soul BlackBerry

Help Wanted

Have you been over to  Well, have you?  Because in the last week alone I’ve written about infidelity (twice!), fighting fairly, I’ve posted videos of my father being interviewed on CNN practically before I was born, and I shared an interesting podcast on divorce, for better or for worse.  I’ve been a very busy, very serious girl.  So busy and serious I’ve developed a raging case of Serious Scowl as a result of my many hours of intense concentration.  I am now in danger of developing a permanent case of The Furrow.  Please see Exhibit A attached:

The Furrow

Exhibit A -- The Furrow

You may have noticed that I’m using my BlackBerry to take photos a lot lately.  That’s only because I can’t get the damn thing out of my hand long enough to grab the camera.  I still can’t type on that tiny excuse for a keyboard, but I had that thing in front of my face for so long today that when I finally sat down to write tonight I was shocked by the ridiculous largeness of my 13 inch MacBook.

Anyway, I need your help.  Up until recently most of the content I’ve put together for has been information I’ve gleaned from various sources; more a compiling of someone else’s writing than my own actual writing.  However, I was hired for my writing skillz and I’ve been given the freedom to write and post my own material, and what I’m really interested in is how divorce has affected you.  With divorce being as common as it is, I find it hard to believe that none of my readers have had some experience with it, whether it’s their own divorce, a parent’s divorce, or a friend’s divorce.   We’re all different people with our own unique views and needs and desires.  We all have our own ideas about marriage and divorce and I’d like to know what yours are. If you’d like to participate, feel free to share your thoughts as a comment or if you’d like to remain somewhat anonymous, email me at

And now a list of questions to help lube your thought processes:

  • When do you think divorce is necessary?
  • What are your views on divorce?
  • Is divorce an option in your relationship?
  • If you could imagine a perfect divorce (if there is such a thing) what would it be?  How long would it take?  How much would it cost?  What would it look like?  How would it start?  What would be required?  Would there be any conditions?
  • If you are a child of divorce, how did your parents divorce affect you?  What did you learn from it?  Did they remarry?  What was it like to grow up in a divorced family?
  • If you have been through a divorce, what would you do differently if you could do it over again?  What was your experience?  What did you learn from it?  How do you feel about marriage?

Of course you don’t have to share if you don’t feel comfortable.  And if you do share, I will most likely want to post whatever you’ve shared on the Internet for the Entire Universe to read, so please keep that in mind.   It is my intention to treat all your thoughts and stories with the utmost care and respect and I really do appreciate your participation.

Thank you!  And goodnight.  (And now I will collapse into bed and sleep like a dead person for the next seven hours.  Heaven.)

How is it all ready after ten?

Now that I’ve had a couple of days to think about it, now that I’ve said it out loud to the Internet and fielded reminders about how I give snide a-holes too much power over me, (Thanks, Mama, I love you too), I’ve begun to think that maybe it’s just life.  Or at least that’s what it is now.  Weeks ago it was raisins and now it’s life.  That’s pretty awesome.

Today Mike and I drove around Long Island making sales calls in boutique pet stores.  I wish you could hear how good my Long Island accent is getting, you’d be really impressed.  Also, do you have any idea how many pet stores in my territory sell more pet clothes than pet foods?  It’s incredible.

We ate our lunches (Mike made turkey, cheese, pepper, avocado sandwiches) sitting by the ocean in Northport, Long Island.  The houses there look like doll houses, with their wrap-around-porches and attic windows.  I dream of spending long sunny spring afternoons curled with a book in one of those attic windows, and then Mike grabs the steering wheel and shouts, “PAY ATTENTION!”

He’d like to be doing all the driving, but I’m the one with the Zip Car membership, and the penalty fees are big if they find out I let a non-member drive my rental.  Why does that sound dirty?  A non-member driving my rental?

So it’s beautiful in Long Island.  And I feel like I spent some time in the sun, because I did, sitting there by the ocean, shivering in my coat because even though this weekend is MAY, Mother Nature hasn’t turned the heat up yet.

Today, sitting by the ocean, I checked my email in the palm of my hand.  I’m just barely beginning to figure the thing out, but all ready that little device is sucking out my soul, I can feel it.  My BlackBerry buzzes whenever one of my friends updates their Facebook status.  It’s insane.  Today, this girl I knew in grade school updated her Facebook status, complaining because her AC isn’t working and my phone buzzed and I was compelled to reply.  Connected all of the time, everywhere, to people I haven’t even spoken to since grade school.  And now she probably thinks I’m a weirdo, because out of nowhere, the girl who brought a dead snake to school in third grade* is publicly scolding her for complaining about her AC when other people in other cities are still wearing their winter coats.

This new mobile device is going to get me into trouble.  But look!  It can do this!


And now you see how impossibly narrow my little kitchen really is.

*The teacher was not amused, and neither was my mother.