Makeup monstrosities? Oh yeah. I’m talking collagen and cosmetics. Lipstick overdose. Botox buried in blush. Excess is the word du jour. Tartini excess at the beauty bar? Nothing makes a woman look older than too much makeup. But we all know it, right? Nothing makes a Real Housewife of Orange County look trashier and older […]
Next generation marriage
“I want to get married,” he says. The words are fired off into the air and seem to settle there, stark and defiant, as though some invisible structure of wires and pulleys holds the phrase in place so I cannot turn away. Then each letter tumbles down through the air, disintegrating. These are special effects. […]
Letter to the new decade
Dear 2010, and the nine years that follow: I am bracing myself. I step over the threshold to meet you with awareness of my own fragility, shadows hovering, and a crystal ball that seems to be on the fritz. My machinery is in disrepair and I am past due for a talented handy man. I […]
La foi, le rêve, et tout le reste
La foi, le rêve, et tout le reste J’ai rêvé, j’ai rêvé de la foi, de la foi au-delà du dogme, de la foi dans le sens de l’espoir qui s’installe au fond de chaque individu ; de la foi dans le sens où toute religion n’insiste pas sur un seul chemin ; de la […]
The Life I Do Not Lead
Come closer. There is a dab of Chanel between my breasts. I have poured myself a drink. I am spread out on top of the bed covers, propped against red pillows in tangled sheets, caught in the turbulence of my sleeplessness, my nightly storm. Outside, the wind howls and releases, limbs bend and then relent, […]
It Takes Two Hands to Hold the Mirror Steady
My mother was beautiful, stunning really – 1940s movie star stunning. She had black curly hair, pearly teeth decades before bleaching and veneers, wide-set hazel eyes, and lush, arching brows that gave her face softness. Her nose was fine, and her full lips were painted deep red, shimmering coral, occasionally pink. She wore no other […]
Lucid Dreaming
My younger son leans back in his chair at the dinner table and reaches over to the bookcase. He slips out a glossy paperback and begins flipping through it. “Why do you have a book on dream analysis?” he asks. My son doesn’t normally initiate a discussion. This is a pleasant change. Oh that, I […]
The restorative powers of sleep. (Not.)
Sleep, with all its remarkable restorative powers – to renew, to recharge, to dream. Then we wake refreshed, and begin a new day. No. There are no restorative powers of sleep for me, only restless legs, flailing about, waking repeatedly, disturbing dreams. The morning. Too soon. A knock on my door. It is not yet […]
Mr. Potato Head. Richard Gere. Faux Fur.
Mr. Potato Head was flashing through my dreams the other night. No… not those kind of dreams, and not that kind of flashing either. Even if this little hunka-hunka-studly-spud has a certain staying power, expressive eyebrows, and movable parts, he’s just not my type. I like a man with, um, backbone. Oh. And a pulse. […]
Bette, Joan, Anne. Excedrin.
Bette Midler was in the crowd just in front of me. She looked fab – about 15 years younger, hair the color of flames. She was mouthing off to Joan Rivers who was laughing and dropping a few sarcastic lines of her own. They disappeared into the throng of people pushing through revolving doors, as […]