First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

How a Mouse Saved My Week

This was NOT a case of shopping therapy. I really needed it. Not want. Need. The last few months, the only way I could keep my old mouse functioning was to wipe the scroll bar clean EVERY day. I hate cleaning. I finally called it quits last week, and went to my neighborhood Apple Store, money in hand. A sales clerk told me to hang in there, and come back next week for delivery of the new MAGIC MOUSE. I’m a gadget girl, so I was thrilled to think of owning visionary touch screen technology for under $70. Since I’m not good at hanging in there, I went directly home and ordered the Magic Mouse online, just to know it would soon be in my hands.

I’d been having a tough week. You know how that goes. Nothing was going my way. When the box arrived today, I ripped it open, as if it were a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes. Apple products are so elegantly designed, and this one does not disappoint. The entire curved “body” of the mouse is sensitive to touch. You can scroll up, down, sideways, zoom in, with just the lightest movement of your fingers. I know. I’m gushing. But my new toy put me on a happier track going into the weekend. And then, a friend called about an interesting guy he wants me to meet. Life is looking up.

Pros and Cons of Sleeping Alone

It could be said that yesterday’s post was evidence of my being a little defensive. I’d HATE to be thought of as a cat lady. Yet you can find me most nights before heading off to sleep, searching under cars in my neighborhood to lure Lily (the cat) into bed. I’ve gotten used to the peacefulness of sleeping alone. No snoring, plenty of room side to side, covers to yourself, the uncompromising control of the lighting. But sometimes it gets lonely and boring. And that’s where Lily fits in. Quite cozily, I might add, right underneath my elbow.

This 1949 photograph, Girl in Bed, is by the incomparable Irving Penn, who died three weeks ago at the ripe, old, age of 92.

The Trope of the Crazy Cat Lady

Here’s my disclaimer. I have NOT seen the Canadian documentary, Cat Ladies, only this trailer. I read about the film over the summer and contacted the producer, who emailed that she will be sending me a copy for review. I hope, as their promotional materials indicate, the film shatters the stereotype of the cat lady, rather than plays into it. The preview does not make me hopeful.

For the record, I LOVE my cat.

Where Do We Fit In?

The media was abuzz last week with The Shriver Report (as in Maria Shriver), about the social transformation happening in the U.S., now that women account for 50 percent of our workforce. Sounds promising, right? As I read through the Executive Summary (which was about as much as I could commit to), I got more and more aggravated. The Report focuses primarily on married women with children, and I found myself asking a familiar question, “Where do I fit it?

That’s why I depend on Bella DePaulo. Please read her comprehensive, and as always, thoughtful analysis of what’s wrong (and right) with the Shriver Report.

(Image: Maye Webb, the New York Times)

There’s Always Gabardine

Twice a year, I talk to a psychiatrist about trying to get a good night’s sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning since I was 29, which I view in the same way as my inability to ask for help. Genetics. I blame Mom.

As the session was winding down, Dr. B. asked if there was anything on my calendar, that I was looking forward to. It seemed like a stock question, but my mind went blank. I have no immediate plans for luxury travel, or four star dining, unless you consider the extravagant meals I make at home.  I don’t have a date on the horizon, except for that guy who I was supposed to meet on Saturday, but cancelled when he woke up with an excuse cold. So what does excite me about the future?

Fall Clothes. I ordered a beautiful jacket, pair of wide leg gabardine trousers, and a fabulous scarf that are on their way from my favorite shop in San Francisco. I’m really looking forward to wearing them, if L.A. ever cools down. Beyond that, I have hope. (See #17 of 40 Reasons to Be Single.) And I hope that counts.

You Will Marry the First Person Who Tells You Your Eyes Are Like Scrambled Eggs

The title of today’s post is from Frank O’Hara poem, Lines For the Fortune Cookies. (I’m resentful of fortune cookies, but I have one shredding in my wallet from years ago, which reads: The love of your life will appear in front of you unexpectedly.) MADMEN fanatics will remember the opening episode of Season 2 when Don Draper notices a man at a bar reading from O’Hara’s 1956 collection, Meditations in an Emergency. On the right are images of the poet by the artist Alex Katz, whose painting The Black Dress was such an inspiration as I was developing this site, that I decided to use it as my “emblem.”

LINES FOR THE FORTUNE COOKIES by Frank O’Hara

I think you’re wonderful and so does everyone else.
Just as Jackie Kennedy has a baby boy, so will you–even bigger.
You will meet a tall beautiful blonde stranger, and you will not say hello.
You will take a long trip and you will be very happy, though alone.
You will marry the first person who tells you your eyes are like scrambled eggs.
In the beginning there was YOU–there will always be YOU, I guess.
You will write a great play and it will run for three performances.
Please phone The Village Voice immediately: they want to interview you.
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10 Quotes That Get Me Through a Single Day

1.  In tribute to the great artist, Nancy Spero, who died this week at 83, I’m starting with this image from her 1979 work, Notes in Time, which is housed in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

2.  I know nothing about sex because I was always married.
– Zsa Zsa Gabor

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Do Women Make Passes At Men Who Wear Glasses?

I admit there have been times, on a first or second date, when I didn’t wear my eyeglasses, even though I needed them. With menu in hand, I had to make an educated guess as to what I was reading, hoping it was caprese and not carpaccio. I probably picked up the idea from Marilyn Monroe in the movie, How to Marry a Millionaire. On the hunt for a rich husband, Monroe’s very near-sighted character, Pola Debevoise, keeps her glasses in her purse, even though she bumps into everything. But come on, she’s Marilyn Monroe. Who would say no?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m really into eyewear. And a man with good frames is a definite plus. One of my favorite shops in Los Angeles is L.A. Eyeworks, whose annual blowout sale starts Friday, October 23. If you’re nearby, don’t miss it!

Online Dating and My Lousy Attitude

Before signing up for Match this time around, I made a commitment on these pages. If I found three men I was willing to contact, I would join for six months. In the past, I never registered for more than a month at a time, and I would keep the end date marked in bold letters on my calendar. By the time it rolled around, I couldn’t wait to be free.

These days, Match offers a guarantee. If you sign up for six months, and you don’t find “someone special,” you get six more free. Here’s the catch. Each month, you must make email contact with five different men. Winks don’t count. (If you don’t know what a wink is, you’re lucky. But write me. I’ll tell you all about it.)

I have just entered my third month. Continue reading »

Post Wedding Blues

My back is out. Too much dancing yesterday at the majestic wedding of a family friend. As the official witness to the marriage contract, I was within inches of the bride and groom when they exchanged rings. “With this ring, you become holy to me,” they each said. The moment pierced my soul, as this couple formed what looks to be a perfect union.

But weddings are tough. They bring up a special mix of highs and lows – from overflowing joy for the triumph of love, to the demon question: why have I been excluded from this most natural human act?

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