tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38837522011-04-21T18:53:10.424-04:00Dictated But Not ReadMusings from the ''Miracle Girl''Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comBlogger561100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1101066109758416242004-11-21T14:40:00.000-05:002004-11-21T14:41:49.756-05:00“This is my wife. This is my ex-wife”
I am remarkably lucky in virtually every aspect of my life. I have reflected on one aspect of that luck in that I live in relatively close proximity to my ex-husband and almost never see him. When I say almost never I am actually understating it. In the 3 plus years since our divorce I think I have laid eyes on him three times. Once I was on foot and he was Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1081696870058528672004-04-11T11:21:00.000-04:002004-04-11T11:24:56.543-04:00The Big Red Plastic Cup
(Why I am the Meanest Lawyer in the World)
I have been practicing law for almost nine years now and I go to court regularly. One of the first things I figured out is that you should be early to court. Not just on time, early. There is a lot to be learned in those ten or fifteen minutes before the judge shows up. You may run into a colleague who has presented a similarMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1077388261668259292004-02-21T13:31:00.000-05:002004-02-21T13:33:42.123-05:00Professionalism 101
When I was in law school we had to take a required ethics course. It was a ridiculous class which my friends and I renamed “Don’t Fuck Your Clients” because that seemed to be the professor’s focus. We figured anyone who could not figure that out on his own was probably going to have lots of problems as a lawyer which were not likely to be solved by an ethics course. I have Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1072142641602197322003-12-22T20:24:00.000-05:002003-12-24T10:00:17.356-05:00It's not the news so much...
I was involved in a long awful case that ended at the beginning of this month. I represented the children, who were treated horribly by everyone involved. I disagreed with the judge's final ruling but I am obsessed with his reasoning. He ruled against the man in the case, not because of what he had or had not done but because he lied about everything he had or hadMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1071199191635125382003-12-11T22:19:00.000-05:002003-12-11T22:20:57.640-05:00Partner Hair
(By Request)
The journey of the young attorney’s career in the large law firm is arduous and requires a level of commitment demonstrated by few. I am an unlikely candidate for such dedication. I am even a person unlikely to be found in a large law firm to begin with, yet here I am on the precipice of partnership. I wonder how I found myself here. I stand here despite my failure, Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1068517676597577022003-11-10T21:27:00.000-05:002003-11-10T21:28:20.840-05:00Emptiness
She comes home every day and feels the emptiness of the house. She never realized emptiness was a thing but now she knows it, emptiness is a living being. The echoing in the rooms that no longer have furniture is not really the worst part, though that is pretty awful. She has cleaned up the dust bunnies that were floating across the rooms like tumbleweeds but she can hear each of herMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1066242567203987892003-10-15T14:29:00.000-04:002003-10-15T14:29:26.923-04:00I Can See Clearly Now
In December of 1999, I almost died. I was married then, not living alone like I am now, where I could slip and fall and not be found for days. I had, in theory, a partner, another adult whose fate was supposed to be tied to mine and who should have taken care of me. He did not and I almost died. I would have been better off alone I think. I might have called an Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1063332976525450352003-09-11T22:16:00.000-04:002003-09-11T22:16:16.550-04:00Quotes from the Week Gone By
My mother: “Are you trying to tell me you’re gay?”
Me: “I think I might be pregnant.”
My mother: “Are you pregnant with an older man’s child? You know that’s fine now but in ten years…”
Me: “I really think I might be pregnant”
My boss: “We have a meeting about your partnership next week.”
Me: “I don’t think you will ever find me naked on a beach, even at my goalMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1062459944790236742003-09-01T19:45:00.000-04:002003-09-01T19:45:44.680-04:00Breast Man
When I first started working at my law firm I was quite the team player. I mistakenly believed that the firm’s fate and mine were intricately connected. It was my first job at a larger organization. A few months after I started work the first crop of summer interns arrived and with them came endless happy hours, baseball games, and other group activities. I had been advised these Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1060498090436978502003-08-10T02:48:00.000-04:002003-08-10T02:48:10.296-04:00My Sentence
We are fast approaching the season of the High Holy Days for Jewish people. The second of the High Holy Days is Yom Kippur when we atone for our sins. We fast and go to the synagogue for hours and ruminate on our sins. We even have a prayer called the “Al Chet”, which literally translated is “on the sin”. The prayer is pages long and contains a phrase for every conceivable sin Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1059929501519163552003-08-03T12:51:00.000-04:002003-08-03T12:51:41.363-04:00Felons R Us
I manage to attract some interesting men. They usually come in waves. I can go months without anyone of the male species noticing that I am alive and then suddenly all sorts of people become interested. The last time that happened to me was several months ago. I was at my favorite neighborhood bar and almost every guy in the bar (it was fairly empty) was showing me some attention. I Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1059780640840051332003-08-01T19:30:00.000-04:002003-08-01T19:30:40.830-04:00It’s not like that with us
Lots of people have crushes on celebrities. Some people might confuse my relationship with John Feinstein with one of those kinds of crushes. The relationship is much more than a silly crush. John has written more than ten books and an untold number of articles about sports. I first fell in love with his commentary on college basketball but have come to appreciate allMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1058122736380587252003-07-13T14:58:00.000-04:002003-07-23T13:45:16.920-04:00A Really Big Salad
I am in the process of losing weight. It’s a long process but it seems to be working. There is noticeable progress and I feel pleased with my improved health and new look. It has given me a sense of confidence that previously eluded me. So strong is my confidence that a few weeks ago at a restaurant I did something I had only dreamed off in the past. I asked if a particular Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-1056923816843636012003-06-29T17:56:00.000-04:002003-06-29T17:56:56.813-04:00The Rock
Recently my friend E. sent me flowers, pretty much out of the blue. The card said, “Thanks for being my rock.” I was genuinely touched. I try to be a good and supportive friend and for this particular friend I think I have done a fairly good job. The flowers were gorgeous and I felt much appreciated and proud for having been such a good friend. I did not see the card as humorous in Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-959595142003-06-23T17:37:00.000-04:002003-06-23T17:37:46.566-04:00You can take them out but you can’t dress them up
One of my favorite memories from my erstwhile marriage is my ex-father-in-law taking me aside one fine Rosh Hashana afternoon at the cousin’s house and saying, “Uh, what do you think of J.’s suit?” Well, in fact I thought his suit was completely ridiculous. It was a gangster suit of sorts. It was double breasted with a thin white stripe running Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-956743052003-06-14T22:02:00.000-04:002003-06-14T22:02:47.883-04:00Jail House Rock
My ex-husband J. was notable for many things. Among others was his inability to keep track of things. At some point he decided to close one bank account and open another. I am sure there was a reason. I do not recall it now. Supposedly he tore up all of the checks and threw them out via the dumpster outside of our apartment. Several weeks later he started receiving notices of Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-955869712003-06-12T08:31:00.000-04:002003-06-12T08:31:35.896-04:00This Peg won’t Fit in this Hole
Last fall I was asked to serve on my law firm’s recruiting committee which is an honor, of sorts. The committee chooses the law students who will be offered highly paid jobs for the summer and if they perform well, permanent positions. Given that I did not “grown up” in the firm, having practiced elsewhere for 5 years, this was a sign that I had been taken into Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-953534102003-06-05T22:49:00.000-04:002003-06-05T22:49:57.620-04:00Friends Don’t Let Friends Drink and Dial
I am my own worst enemy. I say this with certainty because my life has been incredibly lucky and yet sometimes bad things happen to me. The only explanation is that I do it to myself. I have a cool car and people often ask me if I like it and if it gives me problems. I always have to pause. I have had a reasonable number of problems with the car, the Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-952159622003-06-02T21:36:00.000-04:002003-06-05T09:04:23.000-04:00Praying
I was in Fernandina Beach last week and I ran into a gang of the Christian Motorcycle Association, complete with leather jackets embroidered with “Riding for the Son”, and I felt they may be following me, watching me. I even saw one woman with a special jacket that said “Prayer Team”. We were having some ice cream at a small table outside the ice cream shop. Well, to be honest my Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-938340992003-05-05T21:00:00.000-04:002003-05-05T21:00:52.176-04:00Sobering Up
I have been divorced for over two years now and suddenly I am beginning to see signs of healing. I did not get the house or the dog (I decided both would be better off with the person who had more time to care for them) but I took the telephone number from the house, to an apartment, and now to my condo. As a result of my taking the telephone number and of my ex-husband J’s Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-929796602003-04-21T09:01:00.000-04:002003-04-21T09:01:25.873-04:00Shrunken Head
I have the luxury of spending time and money on my mental health. I started to seriously indulge this luxury when my marriage went sour. We went to a joint counselor. She was recommended to me by a children’s therapist I greatly admire and respect. I did not admit that I was seeking therapy for myself. I said I wanted to refer a divorcing client of mine. We went to this person forMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-922599462003-04-08T21:56:00.000-04:002003-04-10T14:36:14.000-04:00Dancing while Jesus is Dying
I learned everything I knew about Christianity until about age 20 from seeing Jesus Christ Superstar and listening to the record repeatedly. I mean everything besides what you might learn from decorating the neighbor’s Christmas tree. I attended a Jewish elementary school and we were taught only that we do not believe Jesus was the messiah (ours hasn’t gotten here Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-919146592003-04-03T09:26:00.000-05:002003-04-03T09:26:32.593-05:00“Oh That”
One day, several years ago, a particularly meek seeming woman came to see me about her divorce. Her husband had already filed and she needed a lawyer. She was the sort of person who seemed unable to look you in the eye and when you looked at her too hard or too closely she seemed to cringe a little bit. She had a small frame, small facial features, and close cropped curly hear. Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-909506222003-03-18T17:35:00.000-05:002003-03-18T17:35:20.686-05:00The Last Supper
After my ex-husband and I separated and before we actually divorced my mother-in-law invited me to come over for a Hanukah dinner with the family. I knew she was not inviting me for me. She wanted the appearance and the sensory feel of normalcy for herself and for the family. She is not my favorite person in the world but she had not, at that point, done anything mean or hurtful Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-904208282003-03-09T17:51:00.000-05:002003-03-09T17:51:26.436-05:00Secure Flying
Two years ago I went on the perfect vacation. I mean perfect. My sister and I went on a guided kayaking trip in the northernmost section of British Columbia. The scenery was so fabulous, the wildlife so fantastic, and the orcas so breathtaking that despite sharing a small tent and a slightly larger kayak for a week my sister and I did not fight. True, there was a brief tiff on the Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-902454952003-03-06T11:45:00.000-05:002003-03-06T11:45:13.436-05:00Happy Anniversary
Today I have been working at my firm for 3 years. It is strange to realize that. I mean in the span of a lifetime three years is not really that long but it seems like a serious chunk of time to me as I reflect upon it. So much has happened in this time, almost every aspect of my life has changed. It also marks the achievement of a goal I set for myself. I wanted to “last” hereMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-900786112003-03-03T19:12:00.000-05:002003-03-03T19:12:04.640-05:00Is that a threat or a promise?
Last week I was getting ready for a second date with someone I will call Tom for these purposes. I realized as I was getting ready that I did not want to being going on this date. The guy had not been particularly nice to me and he had done something during the first date that was a dead ringer for my ex-husband. We were sitting on my sofa and he suddenly jumped upMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-895314722003-02-21T21:50:00.000-05:002003-02-24T13:45:08.000-05:00Biting the Tube
On the Thursday after Thanksgiving I went home from work early because I felt tired. I really did not feel sick just tired and kind of inexplicably weird. I had the kind of job then where going home because you felt a little bit sick was not considered weak or lazy, just smart. So I went home. The next thing I remember after getting home and collapsing on the sofa is that my Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-892022462003-02-16T16:30:00.000-05:002003-02-16T16:30:36.530-05:00Sepia
Recently I was having dinner at some friends’ house. Someone said something about bunnies. The conversation was a bit stilted. I am not sure why but it was. It was a Tuesday night and maybe we were all tired and stressed and consumed in our own thoughts. In any event it felt like pulling teeth so I jumped at the mention of bunnies. I told everyone I had a bunny when I was a kid. As soonMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-886833352003-02-06T22:00:00.000-05:002003-02-06T22:00:34.070-05:00Going Up?
My office is on the 47th floor of a 55 story building. The building has 4 elevator banks. The lobby has a security/information desk in the center of the elevator banks. The other day when I was coming back from lunch I heard a man ask for the high power architecture firm at the security desk. “46th floor” the man behind the desk told him. “46th floor”, he repeated. He got on my Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-884956062003-02-03T17:44:00.000-05:002003-04-09T08:31:20.000-04:00A Proud Moment
During the height of what I call my post-divorce mania, I spent many a Saturday nights/Sunday mornings at my favorite biker bar. Being exactly the opposite of a biker in almost every way made me quite the curiosity at the bar. I befriended the bartender, Michael, who worked the bar in the back room. We often watched the late night edition of Battle Bots on Comedy Central. MichaelMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-880745352003-01-26T22:02:00.000-05:002003-01-26T22:02:58.170-05:00Not so far from heaven
When I was six years old my father killed himself in our garage. I don’t really talk about it. Some of my friends do not even know it. I remember when someone I had been fairly close to for about a year learned about it. G. was over at my house. It was during the time I was separated from my then husband but before the divorce. We were drinking, probably something and Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-879673102003-01-24T13:15:00.000-05:002003-01-24T13:15:13.660-05:00Can you tell me how to get…
When I was about 6 years old a distant cousin of my family was working for Sesame Street. He went on to start “Rechov Soom Soom”, the Israeli version of the show. At the time though, he was still with Sesame Street in New York City. As a result I had an in to get an interview to be one of the kids on Sesame Street. (This is akin to how a certain George W. landed Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-877469922003-01-20T16:42:00.000-05:002003-01-20T17:12:24.000-05:00Beautiful as you Feel
(With apologies to my sister)
There are just the two of us. My sister, K. and I. She is four years older. I have always thought of myself as the happy sister, the one with the positive attitude, the one with the ever present smile. And largely it has been true. K. and I have been closer than ever in the last couple of years. We were both single and sharing the ups and downsMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-875397062003-01-16T11:42:00.000-05:002003-01-16T11:42:53.263-05:00If it was a snake…
I got married at age twenty-five and a half. In the case of my heavily sheltered life, that was way too young. It explains, very well, my currently unmarried state. He seemed to be all that I wanted and all that I needed. He was not.
The first inkling that maybe things were not what they should be was on our honeymoon. His parents paid for our honeymoon which was very Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-872706312003-01-11T13:19:00.000-05:002003-01-11T13:19:06.070-05:00One of Those Women
At my last job I worked with two women and we practiced exclusively divorce law. We were fond of complaining about women who were putting up with jerky men who were cheating, mistreating them, and generally being awful. These women would continue to have relationships with these men or would agree to ridiculously bad settlements in their divorces so as not to upset these men. Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-871668672003-01-09T09:57:00.000-05:002003-01-09T09:57:40.913-05:00Minor Charge
I think there was a moment in the late 1970s when being a single woman with a kid or two had a certain cache. It was the era of The Goodbye Girl, Kramer v. Kramer, and An Unmarried Woman. I only saw the last of this trio for the first time a few weeks ago. It brought back a barrage of memories about my own experience as a child of a single mom in the later part of the 1970s. Of Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-868561332003-01-02T21:33:00.000-05:002003-01-02T21:33:42.603-05:00Lost in (Central) America
I like to think that I am adventurous but actually I know better. I am afraid of horses and scuba diving and am happy enough to have no plans to overcome either one of those fears anytime soon. I am, however, quite skilled at appearing to be adventurous. So much so, that a colleague in my office once commented, with a combination of admiration and perhaps slight Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-863312062002-12-20T14:48:00.000-05:002002-12-20T14:48:56.640-05:00Slurring
When I interviewed for my current job it was quite the process. I cannot remember the total number of one-half hour interviews and lunches but I know I was brought in on four separate days. The last of these was to meet the then hiring partner, M. He was not available any of the three other days I had come in. The day he was available to meet I was meeting with a high level political Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-862134142002-12-18T06:04:00.000-05:002002-12-18T06:04:17.796-05:00Teaching Tolerance
Several months ago I was attempting to meet a man I had never met. We had “talked” via e-mail and maybe once or twice by telephone. The context of our meeting is complicated and not relevant to this particular story but suffice it to say it was not without its discomfort.
I had written to him that I “live, work, and play” in a particular part of town. So, when it came time Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-858395732002-12-11T09:57:00.000-05:002002-12-11T09:57:00.200-05:00Online Dating in the Twilight Zone
(with apologies to Rod Serling)
About a week ago I turned on my computer and checked my e-mail. I was a bit stunned to find I had a note from someone on J-date. The online dating mechanism of choice for Jews all over the United States. I was crossing my fingers that maybe just for once it would not be someone who would let me know in the first five minutes of Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-857598102002-12-09T21:32:00.000-05:002002-12-09T21:32:01.140-05:00Talk to Me
I attended college during the height of the political correctness movement. In retrospect I see its excesses but at the time I was a quite the apologist. Among other things I participated in a theatre troupe called Talk to Us. We went from dorm to dorm on our large college campus presenting skits that were of interest or that the university thought should be of interest to students. Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-854947062002-12-04T14:05:00.000-05:002002-12-04T14:05:16.736-05:00Boom. Boom. Boom.
I had opportunities to do things while still a teenager that most people never get to do. When I was 17 years old I did not want to spend another whole year confined (as I saw it) with 80 or so other inmates in my high school. I do not mean 80 in my class, I mean 80 in the school. So, I talked my parents and then the headmaster of my school into letting me spend the last 4 Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-851607552002-11-27T08:57:00.000-05:002002-11-27T08:57:26.640-05:00SPERM
I do not get many unsolicited responses to my online dating advertisements. I am on two such services and do not often get responses. I admit it, when I do I consider it an event of sorts. Actually, I do get a fair number of responses I just do not get the responses I am looking for that often. I keep my advertisement intentionally vague because I do not want people who know me to Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-850246122002-11-24T18:06:00.000-05:002002-11-24T18:06:06.943-05:00Sucker
One hot August night I was hanging out with some friends at a bar. We were there with work people who were not necessarily friends from work. I was avoiding the work crowd and was talking to a guy I had met at the bar a few weeks earlier. I did not find him particularly interesting or attractive but he was there and he was not from work. Naturally, my eyes were wandering. At some point IMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-849299742002-11-22T11:49:00.000-05:002002-11-22T11:49:54.926-05:00Teach Your Children Well
I had the privilege of attending private Jewish schools from the time I was in the third grade all the way through high school. When I was in elementary and middle school the schools were not quite as religious as my high school. Still, even in elementary school I had trouble with the sexist nature of the rules. Each month, in celebration of the new month on the lunarMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-848736262002-11-21T10:44:00.000-05:002002-11-21T10:44:53.423-05:00Power
I am a lawyer. I am not ashamed of my profession. In fact most days I am quite proud of the work that I do. Still, there are days, not infrequently, when I am deeply disappointed in the law and in particular in lawyers.
I am cognizant of the fact that judges were once lawyers and that means, like lawyers some are good and some are not so good. I measure lawyers who deal with other Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-847616492002-11-19T08:51:00.000-05:002002-11-19T08:51:53.503-05:00The Circle Game
About six months after my divorce was final a friend of mine told me that I should check out the personals at a particular website. I was skeptical at best. I wondered how desperate you would have to be to go on a personals website. It turns out, however desperate that was, I was it. A few Friday nights later found me sitting at my computer trying to be clever. You have to Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-846646142002-11-17T12:01:00.000-05:002002-11-17T12:01:21.850-05:00 Building Birkenau
I recently saw the movie The Grey Zone. I did not know before I went that it was about Auschwitz-Birkenau. I knew it was a movie about the holocaust. Even if I had known, I am not sure that the story would have come to me right away. I know the story well and as soon as the movie began I remembered. I wrote a report on Birkenau in the 6th grade.
The crematoria at Birkenau Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-845374172002-11-14T13:55:00.000-05:002002-11-14T13:55:58.953-05:00Chapters
I first met M. at my favorite bar of that moment. A Latin place that has the same band playing the same songs every Friday night. I can’t dance at all but after a few mojitas I never cared and danced like a mad woman. I had a group of friends who were similarly inclined and we became regulars. We would arrive around 8 stand around and drink until about 10 when we would finally get a Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-842606782002-11-08T22:02:00.000-05:002002-11-09T18:44:17.000-05:00Secretary
The dynamic of a relationship rarely changes. Its circumstances may change but the relationship has a life of its own and its nature does not alter. In my relationship with my ex-husband I was the care taker, the provider, the responsible party. I was the one who pushed and poked him to get up in the morning. I was the one who remembered to pay bills, buy toilet paper, give the dog Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-839788882002-11-03T19:55:00.000-05:002002-11-03T19:55:03.923-05:00Hope You’re Happy
Divorce is an ugly business. I have experienced it from a personal and a professional basis. As a result of the latter I just ought to know better. There are some things you don’t do in a divorce. For example, you don’t fight over the hand made lamp. Why? That guy’s studio is 5 miles away and you can get another one. You don’t date or sleep with other people until the ink is Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-838410232002-10-31T15:41:00.000-05:002002-10-31T15:41:50.513-05:00The Salmon was Good
The summer of my thirtieth birthday was horrible. I was depressed and demoralized. I looked around and noted that all of my friends seemed to be consumed with the pains of pregnancy, the appropriate breast pump, or the nanny vs. daycare dilemma. I, on the other hand, was consumed by the nightmare of a failing marriage. Just after I almost died from pneumonia, my husband, JMargothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-837498682002-10-29T22:10:00.000-05:002002-10-31T15:23:43.000-05:00In the presence of greatness
I am the self-appointed guru of on line dating. I have been doing it for a while and more importantly I enjoy it. I have met some fascinating people and there seem to be an endless number of adventures to be found with a few clever remarks and a few clicks of the mouse.
I generally keep to my own region for my on line adventures but for a potentially compelling Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-836323252002-10-27T19:41:00.000-05:002002-10-27T19:41:39.193-05:00Fat Free Bologna
One Thursday evening I was driving home from one of many meetings I attend on a regular basis. It was the young leadership of something meeting. I was, as always, feeling disgusted with my haphazard eating habits: grabbing lunch at the food court at the office, running to a meeting with a fattening dinner and then having virtually no food at home. I was also exhausted. I was Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3883752.post-835311292002-10-25T19:48:00.000-04:002002-10-26T18:05:32.000-04:00USED PAJAMAS
One night in early fall I found myself sitting in my now ex then mother-in-law’s kitchen while she was washing dishes. We had just finished a characteristically delicious but sparse dinner. The men, as is the custom in that house, had retired to the modern day equivalent of the smoking room, the computer room. My ex-mother-in-law, D., has no daughters and so I was the unwitting Margothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960154279686805036noreply@blogger.com