Blessed Virgin Mary

GABRIELLE: Saturday.

I wake up feeling sick today, nauseous and tired. I dry heave off the side of the bed uncontrollably. Todd rouses, "You OK?"

"I'm fine, just need to eat." I scamper to the kitchen and open the fridge. Nothing looks appealing so I grab a cold Poland Spring and head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I close the door behind me, inexplicably crouch over, rest my head on the toilet and I cry. Saturday Afternoon.

We are at World Pie, a yummy eatery in Bridgehampton, excited to meet a potential florist. We're seated at an oversized booth, surrounded by crispy calamari and decadent veal parmigiana. (Fortunately I've overcome my nausea.) In between bites, Laura, the cute and spunky florist, shows us her designs: Pale pink tea roses in potted in terra cotta, sunflowers brimming with joy in tall cylindrical vases.

"Let's see," she begins, "you'll need seven bridesmaid's bouquets and one for each of your mothers and will there be any grandmothers present?"

"Yes," I say, "but no need to give her a bouquet."

"Well," Laura says, "it's nice to give her a bouquet."

"Right," I add, "but I'm not going to give her one."

Laura flips her straight blonde mane to the other side as she writes down "grandmother's bouquet."

"No," I repeat, "I really mean it, no bouquet for my grandmother." Laura smiles sweetly at me as if she wants to ship me to the loony bin.  read more »

To contextualize my grandmother, we all call her "the Godfather." Last Passover she sat at the head of my parents' extra long table draped with cousins, aunts and uncles, wore sunglasses through the entire dinner and did not say one word. Her favorite saying echoes Machiavelli: "It is better to be respected than loved." She can't stand Todd, ever since she convinced herself that he didn't want to sit next to her at Rosh Hashanah dinner two years ago. As a result she no longer kisses him or me hello at family functions.

There is no sign hanging outside Tappo in the East Village.  read more »

I've been penetrated–repeatedly–and so have you.Over the last three years, we have, at least in  read more »

I happened to be away from New York during the third week of July.  read more »

The Mask of Zorro is an old-fashioned blood-and-sand swashbuckler in the Tyrone Power tradition.  read more »