First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

Will Venice Live Up to the Hype?

Walking out of the train station was a surprisingly dispiriting experience. Despite the iconic scenery, the streets are so clogged with tourists, that for a moment, it felt like arriving in Disneyland. We dragged the luggage up steps and over bridges for a twenty minute walk to our hotel, Locando Sant’ Agostin, which is in a quiet district, away from the crowds. Federico, our lively concierge, had a great restaurant suggestion, tucked away in a cozy neighborhood where Venetians actually live. And that’s when you realize, Venice is not to be missed.

Why My Hissy Fit Paid Off

In Perugia for a few days, a beautiful hill town of Umbria, we checked into a small B & B. My heart sank when we walked up the creaky stairs, and I felt like I was stranded in the kids room of a stranger’s house. When I tried to flush the toilet, the handle broke. In a flash, I realized I’ve moved beyond the B & B phase of my life and had to get out of there. Yes, it was a “princess” move. But luckily there was a picturesque hotel right next door, and since it was 11:00 pm, the sweet man at Reception gave me a great rate for the best room in the place. This photo is the view from my private terrace.

Splendors, Day 2

This shot of the Jewish Ghetto was taken by my traveling buddy and photographer extraordinaire Miguel Torres

View from the Street, Rome Day 1

Roman Holiday

In a few hours, I’ll be getting on a Lufthansa flight from Los Angeles on my way to real Bolognese sauce and mouth-watering gelato. Check back here, as I’ll be posting photos and brief updates once I arrive. As an update to How to Pack for 10 Days in Europe, I managed to squeeze everything into a 22″. Rolling, not folding, really works!

Image by John Houck

Is It Okay to Choose to be Alone?

Can it be that I started First Person Singular over a year ago, and this is my first mention of Emily Dickinson? (This image, above, is the only confirmed photograph, taken when she was 16 or 17.) DON’T MISS reading Holland Cotter’s very personal and moving piece in the Times exploring the Dickinson mythos, My Hero, the Outlaw of Amherst. Here’s an excerpt:

But why do we so badly need to have this poet paired off with someone? Why do we need to make a failure in love — and because Dickinson was single, failure is always assumed — the explanation for her art? We don’t consider “Walden” or “Moby Dick” or “Leaves of Grass” the products of amorous psychopathology. Yet the notion lingers that Dickinson’s poetry was a disturbed response to some unfulfilled need, her retirement a symptom of sickness.

What the Well-Dressed American Woman Wears

I’ve been vicariously enjoying the gorgeous clothes on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s exhibition, American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity. Check out the gowns, shoes, headpieces and ready-to-wear (love the Tweed Toga!!) from the 1890’s to the mid-twentieth century. This 1955 black evening dress, above, was designed by Norman Norell, credited as the the “father of American high fashion,” who paved the way for Halston, Bill Blass and James Galanos. Here are more of my favorites: Continue reading »

When It’s Time to Call a Plumber

I put off home repair. Do you? For months, I listened to my leaking faucet, felt guilty about wasting water (in an arid L.A.), but didn’t move into action. Then the handle on the water faucet got wobbly and hard to turn, but still I procrastinated. The slow drain in my bathroom sink was an annoyance but I could always use the one in the kitchen. Today, the toilet backed up, and I finally picked up the phone. Plumber on the way.

Update on If You’re 50 and Unmarried, Are you Gay? Columnist Ruth Marcus tells us that her friend Elena Kagan is definitely straight, and expounds on why it’s hard to find a husband when you’re the smart one. Read here.

Image: Painting by Yago Hortal, 2009. Acrylic on Paper

Cat and Mouse Game

On Saturday, I take Lily (visualize air quotes) to “Club Med.” Or at least that’s what I’m telling her. Instead, she’s being carted off to The Best Little Cathouse in L.A., where she’ll be boarded, cage free, in the “Lavender Group Room” during my trip to Italy. Lily is the first cat I’ve owned, and the more I know her, the more her behavior seems like so many men I’ve dated. Nestling close, purring in my ear one minute, and the next time I try to pick her up, she acts as if we’ve never met. And yet, like always, I keep coming back for more.

Image: Three Cats, 1913, by Franz Marc

If You’re 50 and Unmarried, Are You Gay?

When the Wall Street Journal inserted this photo of Supreme Court nominee, Elena Kagan, on their front page, they were accused of playing the gay by insinuation card. Rumors have been flying since Ms. Kagan first appeared on Obama’s short list, because, let’s face it, if you’ve reached the age of 50, without marrying, and have cropped hair, there’s only one conclusion to be drawn. Lesbian. Continue reading »