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.
Continue reading »
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
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?
Too Smart For Your Own Good
A straight guy I know, who has become a close (platonic) friend, really doesn’t get me. For one thing, he thinks my hair is too short, and he hates when I use more than three syllable words, because I sound too in-tel-luc-tu-al. When I was updating my online dating profile, he advised against listing War and Peace as my favorite book. “It’s a turn off,” he said. I don’t take his advice, but it gets under my skin, into that cold, dark place where I’m sure I would have found true love, if only I was….different.
Which brings me to the late, great Wendy Wasserstein. She died a few years ago at the tender age of 55, and the theater world mourned. Her birthday is Sunday. Through her many plays and essays, Wasserstein was so adept at capturing smart, ambitious women who found their romantic lives coming up short. After years of trying, she became a mother when she was 48 (and wrote a beautiful piece about it in The New Yorker).
Here’s a fragment from her 1988 Pulitzer-prize winning play The Heidi Chronicles, in which Scoop explains to Heidi (a girlfriend he could never commit to) why he’s marrying Lisa:
SCOOP
Do I love her…? She’s the best that I can do.
Is she an A+ like you? No. But I don’t want to
come home to an A+. A- maybe, but not A+.
Do Never-Married Men Raise a Red Flag?
During the summer, I dated a man with multiple ex-wives. At first, he refused to tell me exactly how many. A look of panic came over my face, and he responded, “You’ve NEVER been married. Who are you to talk?” Ouch. He had a point. I don’t want to be marginalized by my marriage (okay, no-marriage) history, nor should I be doing that to anyone else.
And yet, when I scan a man’s profile on a dating site, who is “never-married,” (and at least in his forties) I immediately wonder what’s wrong with him. Am I a hypocrite? And I shudder to think, is it possible they’re feeling the same way about me?
Signing On to Marriage
This Sunday afternoon, I’ll be attending a wedding in a Malibu vineyard. Before the ceremony begins, the bride and groom will sign a marriage contract (ketubah) and they have asked me to be the witness. I was touched by their request to share this intimate moment. I still believe in the power of weddings, even though I haven’t had one, and even if it’s fertile ground to feel sorry for myself. The way around a pity party was making sure, well in advance, that I had something beautiful to wear. Dress. Shoes. Purse. Wrap. I’m ready.
Where do I sign?
7 Ways to Dig Yourself Out of a Bad Mood
I’ve been reading about the new book, Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America, by Barbara Ehrenreich, who is a writer I admire. I like the title and I get her point. Sometimes really terrible stuff happens, and there is no sane explanation for it, no talking your way out of it or using it as an opportunity for growth.
But it does help to have coping skills. During tough times, I dig into what I call a stress toolbox, which beats spending time buried underneath the covers (especially for me, since I’m a lousy sleeper). Here are the contents:
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