A Quick Flit Into the Parallel Universe

I know, I know, I should be working.

But while eating my chocolate chip brownies with hot chocolate for lunch, I picked up yesterday's Sunday Styles section of the New York Times...and fell through the hole into the parallel universe! I was held captive, against my will; much as I craved returning to work, I could not!

Have you ever heard the word vajayjay? I hadn't. But I read every single jot and tittle of the article about how this term for female personal anatomy has become mainstream, overheard in supermarkets and parodied on You Tube. Where have I BEEN? Did you know Oprah Winfrey is trying her darndest to get the word into the REAL dictionary? Between vagaries and vulgarity.

I speak Spanish much of my day to those around me for whom that is their native language. I will not be explaining this article to them. VA-HAY-HAY.

Equally engrossing was the article on Tila Tequila, the nobody who has leapt to fame for just being her irresistible, if incompetent-at-everything beautiful self, on such high culture offerings as MTV's "A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila," and the ever-elevating "Pants-Off Dance-Off." The article describes her appeal: "Perhaps it is how her large head sits atop a pert pneumatic torso. Perhaps it is the way her wide-set eyes give her the look of a figure from an anime cartoon." Admittedly, the piece set out to ridicule her. But--who KNEW?

Two pages later, I eagerly devoured every word of a clever piece about a couple who compared their flaky contractors to bad boyfriends (in their unreliability and excuse-making, not sexual prowess), which had a certain uncomfortable familiarity, given all the remodeling we've done.

In another two pages, I got a peek into the personal life of "wild" Elizabeth Wurtzel, author of Prozac Nation and Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women, now a law student at Yale, badly in debt but much improved from her birthday a decade ago spent inhaling cocaine.

My work-break included the story of Robert Thurman's kundan wedding ring. The dad of Uma (as well as sons Ganden and Mipam), a Buddist monk, Columbia University religion professor and household do-it-yourselfer saw an artist friend's pendant--a flower-shaped charm set with stones for seven heavenly bodies said to protect you from "the malevolent influences of the planets" and ordered up one for his ring finger. Future brides, keep it in mind.

Finally, the impetus for this blog was provided by a piece on divorce announcements, with several juicy anecdotes about the use and misuse of them. Beside quoting a clearly mistaken sociologist who says "nearly half of all marriages end in divorce," (FALSE--it's 25-30% depending on whether it's a first, second or later marriage) the piece caught my eye because it reproduced a card saying: "My wife left with my house, my car, my money and my best friend...And I miss him."

That, and the relentlessly entertaining wedding announcements that chirp the ages of the couples and the number of divorces (see my previous post on the parallel universe), and the fascinating backgrounds of the newlyweds' parents ("His father works for Nordic-Calista Well Services as a drill operator on the North Slope of Alaska, in the Kuparuk River oil field") rounded out the perfect work-break.

As I return to the normal press of deadlines, I'm fortified by the fantasy world in the pages of Sunday Styles and the lingering crumbs of chocolate still succulent between my teeth. And now, you're up to date on what's truly important, too.