Shalom.
As you learned…two weeks ago? time is a flat circle, like the wedding bands I had custom ordered from Turkey and had to cry my way into being able to return for a full refund, my CPTSD and I got my ass left after a six-year relationship on the day we were supposed to get married in a small courthouse ceremony where Timothee Chalamet was filming his little Bob Dylan movie.1
I may or may not be working on a whole *record scratch* so you’re wondering how I got divorced when we didn’t get legally married essay2 but in the meantime I am calling myself a divorced woman, and while the “divorced man” dossier has been detailed immaculately by
(each of those three words link to a separate treatise on the culture of an unbetrothed gentleman!!!) apparently Divorced Woman Culture is spending your birthday (which was the 22nd; thank you to all of the new subscribers who gave me the special birthday gift of your readership) shopping for reasonably-priced Austin Powers cardboard cutouts now that you have more space in your apartment.
To help me prepare for said deep dive into my doomed domestic doings, I would love to know what your cherished breakup and especially DIVORCE content is. You’re not allowed to include Angela Bassett blowing up that man’s car. OBVIOUSLY that is already on the list if not the preview image for the entire piece. Give me your breakup playlists, Joan Didion poems, weeperfilms, your personal flavor of Lindt truffle to house while bleating your way alongside Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” (the really sad one with the orchestra).
Leave your recommendations in the comments. Oh, and what type of type of retinol I need to start steeping myself in like Elizabeth Báthory and her little period-blood Lush bombs to land me someone with a 401K or a Roth or both. Which hellious dating app I need to choose six photos that most indicate my joie de vivre threshold so I can find a Scorpio or maybe a Libra who can match my freak.3
Because to quote the illustrious
, “You don't wanna be out here.4” I don’t want to be out here! As Kaylor Martin LOUDLY (like Jennifer Hudson, is there any other way) proclaims every time I open Peacock, “Love Island gods, please help me fall in love!5”I also have another publishing announcement thanks to Livina Press! One short poem called “Clarity/In” has been generously chosen and this will be my second poem submission to enter print!
The collection is available on Amazon, and it has been published in paperback, hardcover, and Kindle. Featuring work by
, , , , , , , , , , , , and more!
I also sent a very fun prompt to you all earlier this week!
To read:
Jeremy Lybarger’s profile of visual artist Christina Ramberg for The Baffler was so detailed and expertly written that I immediately ordered a fifty-dollar retrospective book on her work and two framed prints for the apartment. I had never heard of this artist in my entire life until I read the article.
“But I do feel blessed that I’ve had chances to play an eclectic range of characters—and particularly Longlegs, who is nothing like anyone I’ve played before. For some reason, when I read the script, I heard my mother’s voice. And then I met with [the director Oz] Perkins at the Polo Lounge. And the first thing he said to me was, ‘Nic, this is a movie about my mother.’ And I said, ‘Well, that’s very interesting, Oz, because I was just thinking that I want to make this character about my mom.’” - Nic Cage to
, writer of the novel The Orchid Thief that inspired his twin roles in Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation, in a thrilling conversation. Nic Cage uses the word “meme-ification”!Jane Song on beauty packaging’s pebble-dagger dichotomy and the power of cute, for Dirt.
“Maybe it was thanks to divine protection. Suey’s sister Maria had taken some of the cotton wool that swaddled the chalice and begun giving small pieces of it to friends who were fighting the Communists, without explanation. All of these men survived the war unscathed, including one who made a miraculous escape from a bombing.” -
, “When the Spanish Civil War broke out, everyone from Spanish revolutionaries to M.I.6 agents wanted to steal the Holy Grail. Little did they know that a Valencian postwoman had hidden it in her sofa”To watch:
At the Tribeca premiere for the new Tim Blake Nelson picture Bang Bang a month ago, I talked Bravo with Aya Cash and she complimented my hair and then remembered my name and hugged me on the way out I am in lesbians with her now. Watch her masterful show You’re the Worst, which taught me what “Sunday Funday” is and elucidated my depression better than any film or television show ever has. Her character is the orator of that truth, and she is just a killer on that show. Thank you to Aya for being very cool about me telling her that I plan to have her mother Kim Addonizio’s poem “To The Woman Crying Uncontrollably In The Next Stall” inscribed on my tombstone.
I’ve had this interview with Adria Arjona in several different drafts of past newsletters but didn’t share it: now that Twistermania has rocked the states, this is a perfect time to tell you to watch a movie in which Glen Powell is even sexier, Hit Man, available on Netflix. There is a scene with a cellphone notes app that is practically pre-Hayes Code in its simmering, shimmering sexuality. Glen Powell with this little hairdstyle is unreal. I can’t believe I was out here clawing at my duvet cover simping over a character named Ron.
Me seeing Pitbull with Marianna at the end of the month:
This is literally just Simone:
Simoney with her father, who is she is supposed to see this weekend. I am excited for her to the point of tears. She has missed her favorite hobby, kisses with dada.
This is literally just Lugosi:
Actually my babies:
Various and sundry:
Thank you again for the birthday texts, DM’s, paid subscriptions (from literally two of my crushes, I can’t believe it), and kind words without most of you knowing that I was in the middle of this gargantuan life change. Thank you. You made me feel like Winky in her beautiful little dress:
They do KISS.
I know I have been single for a month and 13 days, but I was really…really excited to get married. Not the ring, not the 700 dollar dress (I’m Italian; I was expecting checks to get back in the black, which was of course the color of the dress that is now banished to my parents’ attic). But being someone’s small weird wife. Being someone’s needy quail, if you will. If you live in the tri-state area and have great hair and feel like welcoming a needy quail to your nest, call me.
Love you bitches,
TG
All I wanted was for Club Chalamet to crash my wedding. I asked for ONE thing of matrimony!!!
I want to respect Matt obviously, who is and will be even by force if I must be my best friend and loving coparent until the days we die. But I also want to write about trauma and how not everyone can handle it. It’s important to shine a light on.
Being a Bravo Husband regardless of gender (because yes, I am, more in theory than sexecution, but yes, I am) and accepting that they will never be the little spoon because my son Lugosi is always the little spoon. Crying when the train comes out during “Put On Your Sunday Clothes.” Not rejecting me for having not one but TWO custom pieces of art celebrating the seminal feature film Point Break in my home. Oh, and bringing me a Snapple when I am sad. That’s my freak to match.
I have screamed, crying laughing at this Twitter thread more than once. I am afraid to approach it again because the scream now that my ass is ALONE will be giving Texas Chainsaw, Sheryl Lee at the end of Twin Peaks: The Return, that African lady who is running.
I’m crashing JaNa and Kenny’s fucking wedding with the nicest set of mixing bowls on the registry, just to wish them well. I LOVE THEM. She wore white?? So did he?? She spoke Spanish to him?
My favorite divorced person thing is having my own bedroom (which I now also have in my new relationship too—never going back)
Oh I’m sorry to hear about the pain of experiencing divorce. The songs: I’m not there by Bob Dylan, Dreams to remember by Ottis Redding, Sally go round the Roses by The Jaynettes, Satisfaction (cover version) by Cat Power, Rollercoaster Ride by Belle and Sebastian, and anything by Leonard Cohen have helped me in heartbreak. I like to imagine that the two gorgeous kittens are showering you lots of love and affection (bc cats seem to sense when their parents need special love the most.) Watching reruns of golden girls saved me during hard times. The dance videos for Tilted and Saint Claude by Christine and the Queens never fail to make me smile. Congrats on the print publication! Cheers to your beautiful writing!