Posts Tagged ‘marriage’

Monocle Monday: Flyass Daryl Hannah edition (giant topless picture, so mainly NSFW)

December 14, 2009

Miss Daryl Christine Hannah is looking very flyass indeedy. It’s not just any ol’ lady who can sport a monocle and still look g as all heck.

I said goddamn, Daryl Hannah. Haters to the left! Coolest lady ever.

ME: One thing I learned [from the Playboy project of NSFW November] is that I guess it turns out I am kind of obsessed by Daryl Hannah. I didn’t even realize that!
HRH: Oh, I did.
ME: Really?
HRH: You talk about her a lot, more than you hear most people do. And you know way more about her than anyone normally knows about Daryl Hannah.
ME: But she’s so cool! I thought everyone thought that… I thought everyone talked about her and knew about her.
HRH: You are pretty much the only person I have ever heard talk about her.
ME: (wonderingly) I think about her all the time. How do other people not?
HRH: I don’t know. But you are making up for it.

Okay, so an eyepatch is not a monocle (it actually serves as sort of the cross purpose), but it is an accessory intended for use on only one eye; plus, you must admit that she is positively rocking that fabulous Moschino trench coat.

The haps: HRH has landed.

December 12, 2009

My estranged (it does not get stranger than us!) husband the HRH is here to visit my daughter and me for Christmas. Picked him up from the airport this morning. My gas light came on ten miles from the airport when I was already afraid I’d be late, so I ignored it and got close to God, you know, asking Him how He’d been lately and casually mentioning I’d like to keep going on fumes until at least the parking structure. Then I’d never been to the part of the airport in which HRH’s ghetto plane, because we have no money, was landing, and that part of the Sacramento airport is under construction to boot, so the signs were pretty confusing. It was raining to beat the band. No covered parking. No umbrella. Pulled to the wrong section, had to walk back for ticket, got soaked, had to run through the lot to the terminal. When I finally tracked him down, his cell had been stolen on the flight. Typical pigfuck of a morning for the both of us (and not in the good way).


Total pigfuck and NOT in the good way.

We’ll see if we can get through the rest of the day and the next, like, ten with less damage. But if you hear of earthquakes and the plague and the seventh seal breaking in the next week, relax; it was just two very broken, neurotic people with cursed karma, trying to order dinner.


If only we hadn’t tried together to eat yellow curry on a Tuesday … none of this would’ve happened.

And if you are a fan of HRH and have not seen him in a bit, he leaves the 23rd so hit us up. Text or call on my phone, most likely. Not on his cell unless you want To Catch A Thief.

Self-audit (finally starting it up again) and Advice: FROM me ABOUT Zooey Deschanel, totally SFW!

December 2, 2009

Grand news. The parent-teacher conference went wonderfully!, beyond my wildest dreams!, and I think I may even have snowed kidlet’s teacher in to buying that I am an adult, an elaborate new con on which I’ve been working, whose growing success at the grocery, church, and among new acquaintances is beginning to perturb me and make me check for crow’s feet.


via zooeydeschanel.us

On the way back from picking up the kidlet and Special K from the park where they played while I was at the conference because I was busy conferencing on top secret conferencey shit, Katohs and I were discussing all things fantastic, adorable, unique, and vintage-ish, as we are wont to do, and she said, “I came to a point in my life where I realized I was never going to get to be Zooey Deschanel, and I was like, ‘What’s the point in going on?'”


via zooeydeschanel.us (again)

I replied, “But that’s okay. All we can do is try to inject a little Zooey into each day, like be inspired by her energy!” advancing one of my typical over-optimistic, all-god’s-chillun-got-hands, hippie-crazy-go-nuts solutions that often barely even mean anything in the final analysis. When I am up against a tough point in conversation with a friendoh who is downohs, I sometimes morph into Dharma from Dharma and Greg — cryptic comments about the universe and energy and destiny just fall out of my mouth. But I think, actually, this time I managed to string together some pretty good advice!


via zooeydeschanel.us (again)

I think we women often admire a quality in another woman and somehow, whether it is something ugly and atavistic, or something society has trained us to do that we can more easily shake off, we want that quality for ourselves instead of simply accepting with grace and admiration what a lucky thing it is that that other woman has the quality we like and how fortunate we have been to experience it. We are a covetous bunch, we ladies. “If I could sing like her; if I had hair like hers; if only I had her body; her style; her car or career or cake serving set…”


via zooeydeschanel.us (again)

“…then?” What? Your life would be perfect? Never! There has never been a perfect, easy, or charmed life in the history of EVER! We are wasting such chances with our jealousy and poisonous reaction to a standout quality in another gal, blinded by our instant avarice: when something sticks out in your mind about another woman, ignore the negative instinct and instead seize a vital opportunity to connect with a woman, as two people. We need all to work on this.


Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source

We have to love each other first, because then loving ourselves will come next, and then when you have so much going on already, it’s only natural that the love of whatever man or woman strikes your fancy will follow! (See, if the whole admire-other-women-and-love-them-for-the-reflection-of-the-creator-in-them-that-is-also-in-you bit didn’t work, then hopefully the it-will-make-your-crush-crush-back bit will. I’m new-agey but also very sneaky!)


Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)

None of this is to say Katohs was jealous. She was expressing admiration for Zooey Deschanel. But I think it’s interesting that our culture has conditioned a young woman, especially even one as bright and categorically outstanding as Special K, to, when she sees a woman she admires and idolizes, even joke about wanting to be her, rather than just be able to be like her. Weird people we all are or have been made to be. I’m trying to change, personally. I’m hoping it’s something that can be a choice.


Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)

Other highlights: over lunch at Thai House, I introduced Katohs to the concept and history of “spoonerisms;” kidlet told me flatly that she was going to marry Jude Law, and, when she did, I would need to build her a house for them to live in (knowing Jude Law and the rumors I have heard of his skeeviness this is entirely possible and I guess I had better start saving); and Special K and I determined that it is mainly okay to slap a baby if the baby is really, really annoying.


via zooeydeschanel.net

No babies were slapped in the writing of this self-audit.

The way they were, inaugural edition: Mickey and Jayne

December 1, 2009

Wrestler and former Mr. Universe and Mr. America, Miklós “Mickey” Hargitay and actress/sex symbol Jayne Mansfield, carousing on the beach at Santa Monica, circa 1958-59.


Captured by vintage glam, fun, and cheesecake photographer Peter Gowland, likely with the assistance of his adorable wife Alice (they are a beautiful partnership).

The story goes like this, or so it is said. One night, Jayne Mansfield was attending one of Mae West’s famous burlesque shows (she idolized West, the original dirty blonde, and rightly so). She saw Mickey Hargitay in the crowd and when the waiter came to take her order, she said, “I’ll have a steak and that man on the right.” It was a stormy relationship, full of make-ups, break-ups, and affairs which, given how famous the blonde bombshell and the bodybuilder were, could not help but be public. The pair were tabloid fixtures until the jumping cartoon alarm clock of their marriage finally wound itself down and petered out.


Onstage in 1961, via Vintage Vegas on flickr. Mickey and Jayne had a show there at the Arabian Room called “House of Love.”

The couple divorced in Juarez, Mexico in May 1963. The Mexican divorce was initially declared invalid in California, and the two reconciled in October 1963. After the birth of their third child, Mansfield sued for the Juarez divorce to be declared legal and won. The divorce was recognized in the United States on August 26, 1964. She had previously filed for divorce on May 4, 1962, but told reporters, “I’m sure we will make it up.”

Must have made it up indeed, temporarily. Actress Mariska Hargitay (Law & Order: SVU), the youngest of their three children, was born earlier that year.


Via Muscle Growth Lovin’ Femme, unsourced, undated.

Jayne had several failed marriages and dead-end relationships following her final divorce from Mickey. She was killed in a car accident in 1968, along with Sam Brody, her boyfriend and accused child abuser. She was not decapitated; that is pure gruesome urban myth. Three of her children were in the car with her, including Mariska, but they survived with minor injuries.


Ditto credit to above

Mickey Hargitay married Ellen Siano several years after he and Jayne divorced, and remained married to her the rest of his life. She raised Jayne’s children as her own in the wake of their mother’s tragic death. Mickey died of multiple myeloma in 2006.

Overdue decision

October 30, 2009

So that’s about enough avoiding the Diana. I’m off to take pictures of the lonesome October because I like my camera and it is mine and it doesn’t matter where it came from.

Kidlet’s godmother is coming today to make cupcakes and do Halloweeny shit. I will hit the road with my finished film, freshies, flash and gels in hand, and hopefully come back poorer but happier.

Now I’m all disgruntled and pretty soon I won’t be the only one

October 27, 2009


Tina didn’t go on a huge amount of dates before she met Richmond, whom she married in 2001. “I went to a formal once in college where this guy came up to me — this really handsome, nice guy — and asked me to go to his fraternity’s formal. I said something like, ‘You are gay, right?’ He was like, ‘What? No!'” She pauses. “Then he came out — not during the date but almost that same night. His straight-dar was off.”


“Yeah, it’s tough being smart and sexy, too. I have to say, I’m really not that attractive. Until I met my husband, I could not get a date. I promise you it’s true. My husband Jeff Richmond saw a diamond in the rough and took me in.”

That quote warms my heart and makes me think of my husband. Then I remember that even though I wanted to believe that if I kept trying, he would remember the things I said and respect my fears and dreams and be there for me, and I would be safe and feel taken in, the reality was that he couldn’t make me feel special or taken care of if both our lives depended on it, and I always had to be the strong one, and nothing I said really seemed to make a dent or matter, and I kind of want to smash something against my head. I really shouldn’t write this early in the morning, I think.

Now I’m all disgruntled and pretty soon I won’t be the only one, I wager. Can I just apologize ahead of time? It’s like 7 a.m. I reckon I will have time to get back here and fix this before it publishes.

A confession

October 27, 2009

A confession: I have this recurring dream that I work for Tina Fey. She still has her old job as head writer for SNL in the dream and I’m always a lowly peon. Nonetheless, I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty amazing.

“If you want to make an audience laugh, you dress a man up like an old lady and push him down the stairs. If you want to make comedy writers laugh, you push an actual old lady down the stairs.”

One of these dreams a few months ago went all the way to the end of a week, including watching the show from monitors in a different room, to the point that it was an afterparty situation and one of the host’s friends asked me out to some club to see a midget do stand-up, and I was all pumped, and as I exited the floor I noted that Tina Fey was still in her office working, but I totally wanted to go with the host’s cute friend and see the midget do stand-up, so I skedaddled anyway, although I felt compunctions of guilt about it.

Then we were walking down this very realistic skeezy street to the comedy club, and suddenly I thought, “Oh, no! This isn’t right, I should tell him I’m married,” and I woke myself up. Cheez-its! I totally missed seeing the midget, and maybe even smoochytimes with the guy! I kill my own game in dreams constantly. I need to think about this.

Music Moment: “Neapolitan Dreams,” by Lisa Mitchell

October 24, 2009

Lisa Mitchell – Neapolitan Dreams

You’ll go and I’ll be okay,
I can dream the rest away
It’s just a little touch of fate,
it will be okay
It sure takes its precious time,
but it’s got rights and so have I


I am filling this day up with friends and fun. About to hit up Where the Wild Things Are with kidlet and Special K. (edit: Geo is coming now, too.) Then we are going to a pumpkin patch with Paolo and Miss D, which is the thing I’ve been hiding from, because I have such strong memories of doing that with my husband. That is why I am absolutely going with my friends, and carving up the pumpkins afterward, too. At first I didn’t know about the pumpkin carving because I was afraid it would run late, but the heck with it; we can spend the night again if it gets dark and I don’t like the lay of the traffic and mood of the night. I need to be around people, specifically my favorite people.

I turn my head up to the sky
I focus one thought at a time
I do not let the little thieves
under my tightly buttoned sleeves

Deepest of the dark nights
here lies the highest of highs
Neopolitan Dreams, stretching out to the sea

Model Citizens: Can I get political with you for a second? (NSFW Carla Bruni)

October 20, 2009

New feature! Model Citizens! And I can think of no better inaugural edition.

Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely and talented Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, model, singer, songwriter, indie actress and … something else …. oh, right, First freaking Lady of France, if you please.

“Nothing was calculated, nothing foreseen. I’ve never been married before and I’m Italian and I don’t like divorce. Therefore I’m the First Lady of France until the end of my husband’s term, and then his wife until death. I know that can hold surprises but that’s just what I want.” — Bruni on her surprise wedding to Sarko, shortly after his split from wife Cecilia (who had her own lover, too, don’t panic — they’re European)


I said goddamn, Carla Bruni. Haters to the left! Her sister also is a singer/actress/model. Very slashy, those Tedeschi girls. Bruni started out modeling for Guess, Dior, and Givenchy, but gave it up to pursue her singing career. She met Nicolas Sarkozy not long after his divorce, at a dinner party in November of 2007. They were engaged by December (it is rumored). I like a woman who doesn’t let any grass grow under her feet, and it also confirms two of her often-reported quotes:

“I’m monogamous from time to time, but I prefer polygamy and polyandry.”

and

“I want a man with nuclear power.”

Kudos to keeping your eyes on the prize, Mme. Bruni-Sarkozy.

“It was immediate … I know you don’t get married in an instant and that even more, we were in the spotlight. But lovers, you know, have their own sense of time.” — On falling for Nicolas Sarkozy

Here is her cover of one of my favorite songs, widely charted by the Ink Spots and one Miss Patsy Cline, “You Belong To Me.” The track appears on her most recent album, the 2008 LP Comme si de rien n’était (It is as if nothing happened).

Carla Bruni – You Belong To Me

This has been your very, very NSFW inaugural Model Citizen dossier on Carla Bruni-Sarkozy. Eskimo kisses and you’re welcome!

Daily Batman: Get me to the church on time edition

October 10, 2009

Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, you saucy monkey. Lucky thing for Batman, Alfred hella foiled her materialistic ass!

Honestly, if you’re not seeking out old episodes of Batman and watching them late at night by yourself on the computer with a warm beer while the rest of the house slumbers and you puzzle over your lonely life, you aren’t living an awesome life like me. Wait, scratch that. Reverse it.

This is a ghost post. I’m not home at all, or anywhere near it. It’s a wedding day, y’all! (Doing the running man BECAUSE I CAN CAN CAN!)

Got hot sauce and rose petals in place of my blood

October 10, 2009

Showered, shotgunning some diet cokes, and am just about all ready steady to take this day to the moon! OW!!!

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” –Buddha

“The best thing to hold on to in life is each other.” –Audrey Hepburn

Totally getting right on both those things. My favorite things about weddings are almost innumerable; weird, I know, what with my own separation going on and all — people keep asking me worriedly, “How are you doing with this?” and for a second I’m like, “What? Are they talking to me? Why would anyone not be awesome with this!” then I remember and twitch a little. But I am doing fine with it, in fact I’m over the moon with excitement, I barely slept the last few nights. Two of my best friends are getting married, TO EACH OTHER. Pretty huge day for me! Like, aces and green lights and pretty ponies and chinese lanterns and sparklers and shooting stars, that is how I feel. I don’t have blood in my veins right now, I got hot sauce and rose petals. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…….!

One of my favoritest of favorite things, anyway, about weddings, is that everyone has come with so much love and grace in their heart. It really is a happy occasion, and so much fun is had I think because of that. It provides you a glimpse into how your life would be if your eyes were open to miracles every single day, instead of just on ones where you have deliberately thrust your cares aside to focus on other people’s happiness because they invited you and you get to dress up and chisel free food out of their folks. (This is how it begins when you are driving on your way, you’re thinking about where to sit and whether the sides with the tri-tip are going to be good or have too many carrots, but on the way home you are simply flush with the ancient thrill of wishing people in love well…it is so beautiful!)

So I am sending you an emotional invitation to this wedding. Be down with the extraordinary today, seek out chances to dance and laugh and smile sincerely at strangers, because we are all in on this big secret of getting to be alive and that’s actually really something special. … send great vibes for this crazy beautiful magical day and I’ll catch you guys on the flip side!

The future is now

October 10, 2009


ME: Feels like there’s something happening this weekend, but I just can’t remember what.
MISS D: It’s probably in my phone. Whatev’. I got a dress just in case.
ME: There’s an idea. Big poofy white one?
MISS D: Thought it’d be nice.


MY FATHER: What are the men wearing to this wedding? Have any of your friends mentioned?
ME: [the Gentleman] is wearing a suit, [Gorgeous George] I’m not sure, and Paul is going all out; he’s wearing a tux.
(total showboater!)

In less than twelve hours, Paolo and Miss D will be married!

It’s all happening.

Advice: Maria Callas and hiding beneath the sheets edition

October 4, 2009

It happens. Hiding: it is a thing.

“Love is so much better when you’re not married.” — Maria Callas

Maria Callas – Queen of the Night aria, “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen,” The Magic Flute (W.A. Mozart)

I finally have free time and I’m hiding from my writing today. I need to think about why. I think I know. But I need to admit it.


Hylocereus undatus, or Night-blooming cereus, sometimes called the Queen of the Night.

The nightblooming cereus is also known as the lunar flower, moon flower and luna flower. … The plant grows as a thin, almost dead looking stick from a single stem in the ground. They bloom just on one or two nights of the year. Pack rats often eat these blossoms before morning, so catching a glimpse of them can be fleeting. — The wiki.

And there you have it.

Music Moment: McIntosh Ross

September 30, 2009

I was browsing recently dropped records and singles yesterday when thanks to a really cool well-timed tip from a groovy reader across the Atlantic (thanks o, henri!) I stumbled via recordstore.co.uk over the debut album of McIntosh Ross, The Great Lakes, and my breath was totally taken away. Holy cats, you guys! So amazing!

The Scottish husband-wife-duo of Ricky Ross and Lorraine McIntosh have recorded together before, being longtime bandmates of the recently reunited Glasgow group Deacon Blue (Raintown, “Dignity,” “Wages Day”). As if they did not already have their hands full making landmark alternative music with that outfit, the pair also just released their first solo album September 28 (two days ago) and it is unbelievably beautiful. The music they wrote and recorded with Deacon Blue was mainly working class, alternative anthems about life in Glasgow and the like. The songs on this record, The Great Lakes, are just soaring and ethereal and purely, it seems, love songs to one another.

McIntosh Ross – All My Trust I Place In You

One day we’ll know
One day we’ll see
‘Til then we’ll walk
And believe

This video for me shows exactly why The Great Lakes is such a modest and beautiful record. What is most right and touching about the compositions on this LP is that these are not your we’re-young-and-hot, I-want-to-jump-you, Beyonce and Jay-Z smash hit sexytimes songs, either (no disrespect to hip-hop’s royal couple intended, I’m just saying they are new to the lovesong duet game, comparatively). This whole album is about enduring, longstanding love. Like this track, “Bluebell Wood,” and its repeated line, “Today’s the day we got married in June.” The haunting refrain sounds like an old folk song, and the way McIntosh glides her voice around it, it feels like you are hearing her call you across the moors, yet there is no mourning. It’s just … perfect.

McIntosh Ross – Bluebell Wood

Today’s the day we got married in June
All of the bluebells were out in the wood
We danced to our song
And stepped in the car
Drove under a blanket of stars
Today’s the day we got married in June

Simple words, a simple memory she is describing, yet it is somehow, in their hands, achingly poignant. Because it is …

I realized these Music Moment posts tend to run really long because I like music way too much, and can’t bear to only give you half the story on someone I think is really special, so click here to keep reading about wonderful McIntosh Ross and see more pictures, hear more music, and suchlike, because they are mind-blowing in their awesomeness… Continue reading, hear more music, and all of it!

Matryoshka dolls and pulled teeth, or, pass the laudanum?

September 24, 2009

The mother of my daughter’s other father is coming over today. Oh, look at the little layers of insulation, like a set of goddamned matryoshka dolls, this is how I nestle away my feelings and keep myself safe from them. I start with myself and erect shell after painted shell all around me: this means I am very tiny inside. Did you know?

You see, he got married in the last few weeks (stab), and has another child, now, a boy (twist), and has apparently totally turned his life around and aren’t I such an awful person for thinking him a stranger to me and to my daughter? I know it’s more, I know it’s more repressed and deeply painful even than the obvious things I can think of to say about why it’s bothering me so much, why it’s like a sliver of glass in my heart, cutting deeper and deeper with every breath. Am I holding him responsible for the fact that I and my daughter were not enough to make him want to become this awesome new person his friends tell me he is (not at all the person I miss anymore, I guess, I guess that person is gone forever), not like his New and Improved girlfriend, I’m sorry, wife and his New and Improved baby. They are the ones who get to have him around and hear his voice every day, whereas I get to wake up every day and know very specifically that I will not see him and will not hear from him that day. And as that pain is on me, I have to let go of that hurt.

I am glad he found someone who seems faithful and kind and full of grace, plus someone who is, like him, really good-looking and also musically talented like he is, I honestly am, they will probably go far together. But the son…and the wedding…and the probable amazing amounts of pure happiness, when I am in the midst of this waking-up to my old repressed self and this marital separation, that is such a kick in the stomach, especially coming from someone that I loved so much and so wrongly (in a way that poisoned the well instead of making it clean, you know? like a hell-version of soulmates that was best walked away from despite how hard it was to disentangle myself from it, because it was too enormous for me to see any other way out of) that I’ve shoved those feelings about that breakup so far down that I don’t even know what shape they will take when they come out? I guess, this shape. Matroyshka dolls, aimless crying over shit that doesn’t really affect me, events of my own life spinning outside my control, no way to keep myself or my daughter on what I think of as “normal” footing, so maybe it is time to redefine normal for us and stop letting my family judge me the way I let them break us up.

Oh hell, what was THAT.

Fucking jesus. This talking about your feelings stuff is some heavy shit. Like pulling teeth. That’s all for the day, sorry. Please send vibes for this visit that my daughter’s father’s mother will continue to pretend like our friendship is totally normal and continue to pretend as though the main thing we all three of us (daughter, grandmother, me) have in common is not her son.

I didn’t know it was possible to be ghetto and full of emo bullshit at the same time, but I am nothing if not amibitious.