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March 30, 2004       |       Today's Terror Mood Ring: bubbe meise.       |       Happy Birthday, Ian Ziering!

Crockpot.

THINGS MY NANA LEVENSTEIN TAUGHT ME ABOUT LOVE

BY
JAMI ATTENBERG





When you meet a man remember: Always smile. It takes more work to frown than it does to smile. You have to use more facial muscles. Itís true. I read it in a magazine at Doctor Kleinís office. And you look so pretty when you smile. You really should smile more. Make them think youíre friendly, even a little trampy, but not too trampy, you know?

Itís just as easy to marry a Jew as it is to marry a goyim. In fact, easier. A multifaith wedding could take hours, the back and the forth with the priest and the rabbi. Nobody wants to sit through that. And forget about figuring out the catering. They donít know how to eat right. Have you seen how skinny they are? Itís not normal.

If youíre on a date with a man and he asks you if your back door is open he isnít talking about the rear of your house, he is talking about your pooper.

Itís just as easy to marry a rich man as it is to marry a poor man. If you would just put on some makeup, that is. Would a little lipstick kill you? Red lipstick. Like a dirty whore. Here, hold on a second. I think I have some in my purse.

Itís just as easy to stay married as it is to get a divorce. Could you imagine splitting a home down the middle? And then youíll have to hire movers, and they break everything. When we moved to Sycamore Street I lost half of my crystal wine glasses. I never felt comfortable in that house, never.

Itís just as easy to take it from behind as it is to do it missionary style. Sure you have to flip over, but then you donít have to look like youíre paying attention. Itís a fair trade-off.

Itís just as easy to sleep on the right side of the bed as it is to sleep on the left. Donít look at me like Iím a fucking lunatic. You know exactly what that means.

Donít ever go to bed angry. Sit calmly in the kitchen and talk it over. If you must have a drink while doing so, insist on the good scotch in the back of the liquor cabinet, and not that crap he puts out for the guests, the cheap bastard. If you must raise your voice, do so without cursing. If you must curse, donít say anything youíll regret. If he says something heíll regret, make him pay for it, in little ways, for the rest of his life. Forget to give him messages from his buddies or let him oversleep and miss his tee time even though youíve been up for hours. Spit in his cocktails when heís not looking. If you prefer a more direct route of revenge, throw something at him. If you choose this course of action, aim low, not high, and throw china, not the good china that you use for the guests, but the bad china you use every day. And if youíre going to cry, do it softly. Keep your face away from him so he canít see a thing, but make sure itís loud enough so that he knows: he made you cry.












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Crockpot.


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