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news, networking, 1000, web dafesign, how, labor laws, jesus, weblog, sledging(cricket), links, kama sutra, hamburger harry's, andrei codrescu, terrible, pantyhose, nihilism, excellent,
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Before our engagement, Andrew's mother had been neutral to me, simply telling him to be careful "not to fall erotic in love" when we announced our plans to move in together. erotic But erotic things grew progressively nastier after our engagement, after I was no longer a phase. The months prior to our wedding, three years before the trip to Israel, was the period of the Phone War. Many ugly, tearful words were volleyed across late night, cross-country phone connections -- "You fucking Jew!" being the most outlandish of all. This is the phrase with which Andrew's mother predicted I would one day degrade him. How or why these words would come to fall from my mouth she did not foretell. So stunned were we by her prediction that we needed to make the words our own. "Oy, you fucking Jew," I say to my husband now with a Woody Allen-delivery. Imbued with the silly sweetness of our prenuptial bliss, with our retreat from maternal fury, the phrase makes him giggle. I have, with great practice and, finally, habit, achieved just the right breathiness to my oy, just the right exasperation, as though I've walked six miles to the butcher and Mrs.
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