Slate's 10th Anniversary

Getting Jiggy at the Breakfast Table

Today I’m eating…. nothing, actually. The sight of the renewly bloated Ms. Lewinsky inspired me to knock off a few pounds. If I were Monica, I would be super pissed to be called back as a witness when I was chubby. I much prefer testifying when I’m at my fighting weight. By the way, I don’t mean that to sound catty. I, like all Jewish women everywhere, am proud that our president chose one of the tribe as his very own. Especially considering he’s shown a pronounced proclivity for blondes.

Oh, my feeling about public art–first of all, some years ago a guy (a weird guy, probably, but let us just say ‘a guy’) sent me a copy of my first book which he had chopped up and reassembled and drawn pictures on and drizzled ketchup over. I think it was art. I was simultaneously flattered to be used as art and outraged that he had mutilated the thing. I know some artists with clout now require the people who buy their work to agree not to alter it in any way, and I used to think that was sort of overweening and obnoxious, especially from someone who was getting a few million bucks for a bad paint job, but my mind was changed forever by that chewed-up copy of my book. Actually, I love public art. My recent favorite was at the southern end of central park; it was a huge, huge red chair with a tiny little horse perched on it–just darling.

I do have Tupperware. In fact, I wish I had more Tupperware.

I’m feeling a little depressed today because I got called for jury duty for the tenmillionth time and I keep thinking: This would never happen to Kim Delaney, even if she were still alive. The only good thing about jury duty in New York is 1) easy access to good Chinatown restaurants 2) the ‘welcome to jury duty’ tape is narrated by famous movie stars 3) chance to make new friends and 4) as long as you tell them during voir dire that you support summary execution for all traffic violations you usually get dismissed in about 13 seconds and then can blow off the next few days and tell your boss you were doing civic duty and by law your boss can’t bust your chops. So why am I depressed? because 1) even though I am constantly called for duty I am never chosen and I feel rejected and ashamed and 2) I don’t have a boss so when I blow off those extra days I’m only hurting myself and I hate that and 3) now that I’m dieting I can’t even eat at those Chinatown restaurants. Life sometimes sucks, doesn’t it?

Getting jiggy up here–

Yrs trly,