 The photo of our wedding that ran in the Times |
10/04 - 9/04October 31, 2004 The Vows column about our wedding has been subject to Veiled Conceit. Click on the link on the right. Read the whole thing, including the angry email from Steve's mom at the end. Here's what I wrote to the editor of the blog: Dear Sir or Ma'am: A friend came across this by chance, and sent to me. That's me in the photo and my fey Quint husband. Just wanted to let you know that your insight into our domestic violence had propelled me to shoot Steve in the heart. He's dead now, and good riddance. Best, Val Frankel Here's what the editor wrote back: Hi. It's actually funny that you write, since I just had this email exchange with another reader: "actually, i really liked the announcement about the diminutive french horn player "quint": i thought they actually seemed like real people, not robots built by mckinsey & co." to which I replied: "...as for Quint, I agree. Although I made fun of their picture I thought it was one of the few I've seen where the couple seemed to have genuine affection and looked comfortable and normal together. None of that staged nonsense." I'm sorry that your relationship had to meet such a violent end, but I suppose it was for the better. Is he going to have his obituary in the Times, and if so, is it (in the words of Mary Beth Cahill) "fair game"? Hope you weren't too offended by the post. Best of luck to you and Steve, Zach Cute, right? Steve is known now as my "Fey Husband." He is an evil manicurist for Halloween, and thinks his new nickname is swell. What a guy! October 28 Watched Once Upon a Time in Mexico last night. I'd give it a solid B-. Like any red-blooded woman, I could watch Antonio Banderas for hours; I'm not complaining about the shiftless plot, excessive violence, etc. Johnny Depp is killer in this one. A word on Johnny Depp: I've been on the ground floor with a few movie stars, seeing potential before they got huge. I loved Tobey McGuire in Pleasantville. I was dumbstruck by Heather Graham's beauty in Drugstore Cowboy (and was beyond thrilled when she optioned the rights to The Accidental Virgin last year; I told her as much and she was gracious about it and not embarrassed for my gush, bless her heart). Johnny Depp and I go way, way back. All the way back to 21 Jump Street, which I'm sure most people have forgotten. Well, I remember. I remember in my dreams, Johnny. Anyway, Depp stole Once Upon A Time In Mexico from under the lanky legs of Antonio. His comic genius saved the night. Johnny should do more comedy! He should do romantic comedy! Obviously, he has a warped sense of humor (love his oddball choices for rolls). I'm sure he has a warped sense of everything. Romantic comedy couldn't possibly be bizarre enough for him. Too bad. I'll just keep dreaming of you, darling. With a playing card stuck to your forehead. I also deeply admire Ben Stiller. If you haven't seen Mystery Men, please rent (I own). Along Came Polly: sap crap. Dodgeball: Now, that's a movie! October 26 Cat Haiku The food in my bowl Is old, and more to the point Contains no tuna. I was sent a dozen of these by Elizabeth Crow, my main spam source. This was my favorite. I'll post a couple more later. So we had a huge party Saturday night with, like, a hundred people in our apartment. A post-wedding, pre-Halloween thing. Steve called it a Marriage Alcohol Party. Of course he thought we'd never have enough, what with the wholely inadequate ten cases of beer, four cases of wine and eight full bottles of booze. To his credit, I can report that the entire two liter bottle of Jim Beam is gone. Steve drank half of it himself. Steve wore a lab coat for the party which made it easy to point him out to friends who hadn't met him yet. It was reported back to me that, when asked why he was wearing the lab coat, he replied, "Because I'm operating at midnight." Not sure why this is funny. Just know it is. When I get a chance, I'll post some photos. But, hands down, the star of the party was the son of my friend Mary Duenwald, a fifteen year old blond kid named Nick. His mom let me hire him to take coats, throw away plates, serve drinks (which might be illegal). Anyway, he became known as "the hired teen." Friends came up to ask me where I got him, and where can they get one. Now everyone wants a hired teen! I have started a trend! Steve returned to me yesterday. I feel much better now. October 16, 2004 This newfangled blogging business is starting to get fun. Thanks to Ron Hogan, my site is listed on beatrice.com, and that led to a completely unexpected and charming email from author Lani Diane Rich. I am connected! I toil not alone in my room! Well, actually, I do. But even isolationists need acknowledgement and reinforcement from peers. On a personal note, my husband, who has been out of town for three weeks, returns on Wednesday. That gives me 3.5 days to shave my legs, wax eyebrows, plan an outfit and cook something. I'm taking suggestions (about the clothes and food). October 10, 2004 Steve has been in Dayton, Ohio (a swing state, but not, according to his reports, swinging) for two weeks. He'll stay there for another week and a half. He's starring as Ko-Ko in a production of Mikado. Why it takes a month to stage a show that he and the other principal players have done hundreds of times is beyond me, and I'm filled with the usual resentment. Despite the quality time with the kids and friends, the excellent progress I'm making on The Good Witch (hitting daily page counts handily), I'm just biding my time until I see Steve again. Love is the selfish/ October 7, 2004 Saw Wilco at Radio City Music Hall last night. I have to say, without fear of sounding like a teenybopper (and what's wrong with that anyway?), Jeff Tweedy could be my honey. Okay, not the most classically handsome man alive. But neither is Steve. Tweedy is just so deeply, inplacably COOL. His voice, his guitar, his cute little asides about how much he loves his wife, son and father. It's enough to make a 39-year old long for the days of rock posters on the ceiling over the bed. October 4, 2004 I see that 6 people have looked at this site so far. At least half of them are members of my family. Thanks Mom and Dad! Writing into the void (if you write in the forest where no one can read it, is it still funny?) is freeing, like waving a flag in space. Today, my deceased husband Glenn would have been 38. He's been dead for four years. That brutal night was a couple of days before the last general election. I'll be voting against the same asshole this time. I'm still a mom, still a mother. Still a wife, as of six weeks ago. But the tone, color, texture of my life now looks nothing like it did in November 2000. I'm using a different emotional palette. It's brighter, amazingly, oddly. I'm sure Glenn is happy and relieved to hear that, if he has Internet access where ever he is now. Doubt it. Happy Birthday besides, Glenn. I'll think about you a lot today, like everyday. But more. Sept. 19, 2004 Less than a month since the wedding. Stephen Quint willingly became my second husband on August 21, 2004. He's a gutsy bastard. I'm working on an article for Self on Sexual Satisfaction and Bad Body Image. My editor wanted me to discuss my own personal history. I did an article for O about my hate-hate relationship with my fat belly a year ago. And now, I've become the go-to woman for "Love sex, hate my stomach" stories. How do these things happen?? The Girlfriend Curse, my new novel, comes out in March, and I'm supposed to think about promotion ideas now (including a website). I am ON IT. I am PROACTIVE. Hello, Pam Jaffee! I DO AS I'M TOLD! And DAMN PROUD OF IT! Anyway, The Girlfriend Curse is another novel for women who have a dirty sense of humor. Uptight humorless prigs should stay away. One fan send me an email saying how funny my books are, how she "gets it." I send her back a note saying, "A lot of people don't seem to get it." She emailed back and told me not to worry. DONE. |
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