Tarantino knew Weinstein mistreated women

Hollywood director Quentin Tarantino has admitted he had known of incidents of Harvey Weinstein mistreating women before the scandal broke earlier this month.
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It’s a case of life imitating art for Bernie Sanders and Larry David, who have discovered they are related.
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The Subtle Moment When Jon Snow Finally Knew Something On ‘Game Of Thrones’

The King in the North had an epiphany.
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What Do You Wish You Knew Then That You Know Now?

Our resident Old Guys™ have some life lessons for their younger selves.

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Hotlanta Book 2: If Only You Knew

Hotlanta Book 2: If Only You Knew


Designer clothes. Gorgeous boys. Family secrets. Major drama. The Duke twins and their fabulous Atlanta lives are back. proving why they don’t call it Hotlanta for nothing! Twins Sydney and Lauren Duke are the privileged princesses of the Atlanta social scene. But an unsolved murder mystery keeps drawing them back to the wrong side of town. There, wild child Lauren has to risk everything to protect the boy who’s stolen her heart. And prim-and-proper Sydney discovers details about their family’s past that no one-least of all the girls’ fiercely guarded mother-wants to face. When the twins realize what they’re up against, can they deal with the dark, dangerous truth

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Lenovo Thought It Knew How to Fix Brands—Then It Bought Motorola

Success with a deal for IBM personal computers led China’s Lenovo to underestimate the difficulty of reviving smartphone company Motorola Mobility. “We underestimated the differences of the culture and the business model,” says the CEO.
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Joely Fisher: I Knew Debbie Reynolds Wouldn’t Survive If Carrie Didn’t

Joely Fisher opened up about the heartbreaking last moments at her famous half-sister Carrie Fisher’s hospital bedside, revealing a hunch she had about the late actress’ mother, Debbie Reynolds.

“I knew that if Carrie wasn’t going to survive this that Debbie would not,” she said in an interview with ABC News this week. “She would not last without her on the planet. She wouldn’t, and she didn’t.”

The “Star Wars” heroine died on Dec. 27, 2016, days after suffering a heart attack onboard a flight bound for Los Angeles. Reynolds, a Hollywood icon, died just one day later following a stroke.

“I’ve been having an out-of-body experience,” Joely said about the tragic loss. “The world lost Carrie and Debbie … and we lost our hero.”

Joely and her younger sister, Tricia, share a father, Eddie, with their well-known older half-sister. The two women told ABC’s Chris Connelly that Carrie was extremely generous and sensitive.

“She was the coolest big sister in the world,” Tricia, 48, said. “She was a badass body gun-toting princess. Who has that?” 

Joely says she shared a final conversation with her late half-sister via text message the night before Carrie boarded the flight where she would suffer a fateful heart attack.

“We talked about age because she was floored that she just turned 60. We talked about children. We talked about our frail mothers,” Joely, 49, said. “And I promised to see her for Christmas.”

Joely kept her promise, though under tragic circumstances. She visited the beloved actress and mental health advocate in the hospital over the holiday.

“I remember just holding [Carrie’s] hand and telling her that we were there,” Joely said. “That we would make sure that her daughter was whole, which she will be.”

 Joely described Carrie’s 24-year-old daughter Billie Lourd as “soulful” and “smart.” 

“She was obviously rattled to the core,” Tricia said of Lourd. “But she’s handling it.”

 

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Entertainment – The Huffington Post
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Who Knew? Megan Mullally Reveals She Dated Michael J. Fox

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I always Knew you were the one vintage Wedding Anniversary Greeting Card

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The Caddie Who Knew Ben Hogan

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Returning as an honored guest to the exclusive country club where he worked in his youth, Jack Handley remembers the summer of ’46 when he caddied for Ben Hogan in the last Chicago Open. Now a respected historian, Jack recounts to the assembled sons and daughters of members he once knew the dramatic match between the mysterious and charismatic Hogan and the young club pro he idealized. The Caddie Who Knew Ben Hogan is filled with dazzling descriptions of hole-by-hole match play drama, and laced with anecdotes from that golden age of sports. This bittersweet novel of friendship, lost love, and great golf is told through the eyes of a 14-year-old boy whose life is forever changed by one of the greatest players of the game.

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Real Men Share: The Moment I Knew I Was Ready to Get Married

Was it love at first sight? A certain milestone or a special experience? Ten married men reflect on the moment they just knew they had found The One.


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Fascinating Facts You Never Knew About Miss America 2016, Betty Cantrell

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Mika: The Boy Who Knew Too Much

Mika: The Boy Who Knew Too Much


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Julianne Hough Was An Extra In ‘Harry Potter,’ But We Actually Already Knew That

Julianne Hough took part in Us Weekly’s “25 Things You Don’t Know About Me” feature, in which the magazine asks celebrities to list 25 interesting or random facts about themselves that the public probably doesn’t know about them. But Hough’s list comes up short, because there’s at least one fact we definitely already knew:

11. I was a Gryffindor in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” but don’t blink or you’ll miss me!

While this isn’t news to us, maybe it’s news to you. And there really isn’t a bad time to revisit a moment in Harry Potter history. Hough’s role’s as a Hogwarts student was blink and you’ll miss it, indeed. She can be seen sitting near Hermoine (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint) while they cheer on Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) at a Quidditch match.

juliannehoughharrypotter

Hough has actually spoken her appearance in beloved 2001 children’s movie on more than one occasion.

“Oh, yes. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’m still such a big fan. I always go and watch the midnight showing, so I’m excited to see it,” she told Parade magazine in 2011 when asked if the ending of the film series felt bittersweet.

She added, “I might get in trouble for this, but I actually stole the Gryffindor scarf that I had as a memento. I was like, ‘I have to keep this scarf!’”

Then in 2012, during an appearance on “Live With Kelly,” Hough brought up the scarf story again and admitted that while filming the movie as an 11-year-old she fell hard for Harry Potter himself.

“I was kind of in love, especially with Daniel Radcliffe. I wrote him a love note. It was Valentine’s Day and I got him the Valentino Beanie Baby. I never heard back,” she said.

You can also see Hough in this deleted scene from the first “Harry Potter” movie:

— This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

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How Relationship Experts Knew They Found ‘The One’

“When you know, you know.” That’s the conventional wisdom when it comes to figuring out if the person you’re dating is the person you’ll be with in the long, long term.

But when and how does that seemingly elusive feeling of assurance strike? We recently asked a group of married relationship experts to tell us about the moment they knew they had found The One. Below, authors, professors, therapists and other relationship professionals share their stories.

1. They never ran out of things to say.
“On our third date, we met in the late afternoon for drinks, then we saw a movie, followed by a long, leisurely dinner. Then we decided to walk. All night. First to a cafe in North Beach, then to a jazz bar, and then just up and down the San Francisco hills, until around 6 a.m. when we said goodnight at my front door. Not once did we get bored or run out of things to say. I knew then that 10, 20, 30 years out, we’d still be talking, laughing, keeping life fresh and interesting. And we are.” – Winifred Reilly, licensed marriage and family therapist and relationship blogger

2. What she lacked, he had in spades.
“I knew my husband was The One during our first real date, which was a trip to Miami since we lived in different cities at the time. He navigated us around in a rental car, which was impressive since I have no directional capacity at all. He also was very gentle when rubbing sunscreen on me, which I liked because I thought it meant he was kind and a caretaker. I was right!” – Dr. Samantha Rodman, psychologist and dating coach

3. The relationship felt totally, completely right.
“My wife and I met in high school, we broke up on graduation, but rekindled the relationship in our senior year of college. She had the opportunity to study in Europe, and I spontaneously decided to join her for a year in romantic Heidelberg. On the plane, my exhausted wife-to-be fell into a deep sleep. I looked over at her slumbering form, and I was hit by an overwhelming feeling of rightness -– that for once in my life, I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right person. In Germany, I learned the wonderful word for ‘significant other’ or ‘sweetheart’: Lebensgefährtin. It literally means a ‘fellow-traveler through life.’ And that’s what we’ve been to one another ever since.” – Dr. Karl Pillemer, author of 30 Lessons For Loving and professor of gerontology at Cornell

4. It was love at first sight — no doubt about it.
“I knew my husband was the one at first sight. I know that sounds crazy, but we were set up and had been talking on the phone for nearly a month. Each time we’d connect by telephone, we’d talk for hours. He knew so much about me before we ever met face-to-face, and before we left dinner that night, we both knew we’d never be with another person again.” – Fawn Weaver, author and founder of Happy Wives Club

5. He was a true gentleman.
“It was a cold night in November 1985 and we were double-dating at a Lebanese restaurant in Washington, D.C. He was NOT my date! I was wearing short sleeves and I must have been shivering because Chuck took off his sweater, a red and green chevron-patterned number, and gave it to me. I slipped it on and it was so soft and smelled so good, musky and manly. We looked at each other, he’s got these see-through blue eyes, and I thought, ‘Hmmm, this could be interesting…’ And it’s been interesting for 27 years.” – Iris Krasnow, author of The Secret Lives of Wives

6. She broke all the dating “rules” for him.
“Lou was bartending over the summer after my freshman year of college and his best friend, who I had dated, was the bouncer. Lou was different from any man I had dated. I can’t really explain what it was, but he complemented me in ways I hadn’t ever considered before. I knew it from the start. And because he wasn’t going to call me (bro code), I looked through the phone book and called everyone with his name until I found him. I don’t believe in rules when it comes to love, but if I did, I was sure willing to break any and all of them.” – Dr. Logan Levkoff, sexologist and author

7. Their chemistry was off the charts.
“I knew my husband was The One on date number four. The electricity wouldn’t stop. I swear, I got electric butterflies every time I would think of him. The PDA was getting a little ridiculous that night and I told him, ‘You’re the man of my dreams.’ He said, ‘Wow, that’s a lot to live up to.’ I was actually trying to NOT be in a relationship for a long time, but there was no denying this intense chemistry.” – Marina Sbrochi, author of Stop Looking for a Husband: Find the Love of Your Life

8. His success was hers too.
“When I whispered to her, ‘They let me in [to a psychotherapy graduate program]’ her face radiated joy. More than I did at the time, she understood what this could mean to me and to us. Up until that moment, the future of my career was vague. She knew that this possibility of me becoming a psychotherapist had my name written all over it. Her assurance made her the one for me.” – Dr. Jim Walkup, licensed marriage and family therapist

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‘S***ty Side Salads’ Is The Fake Delivery Food You Never Knew You Needed

Somebody’s calling out the generously named “side salads.”

Aptly titled “Sh*tty Side Salads,” this video imagines a company actually producing those takeout and delivery afterthoughts so you can trick friends into thinking you ordered in.

“Cole slaw in a medicine cup?” says one guest. “Well, I’m fooled.”
Comedy – The Huffington Post
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10 Things Girls Wish Men Knew About Women

Ladies, is your relationship suffering at the hands of your own stupidity? Your foolish, lingering notions that people are just people — that men and women are inexorably bound to the same mortal coil and as a baseline of existence are actually, well, not all that different in their desires to be understood and loved?

Here’s a helpful image I want you to keep in mind whenever you are trying to forge a dialogue between the genders: A gaping chasm. A cavernous space — too wide to ever even scream across — separating two distinct cliffs. On one side you have men — strong, silent, brooding, insular, emotionally distant, and sex-craved. On the other you have women — weak, erratic, shrill, overly-analytic, and frigid.

There is no hope at ever knowing a man. Do you ask a wolf how its day was? “Oh I don’t know darling, just a blur of indescribable instincts to maim and kill. To impregnate and sleep.” Exactly.

Conversely, what can you say when your man asks you how you are? “Oh I don’t know darling, just a blur of indescribably intense emotions arbitrarily ping-ponging between crushing anxiety, despair, and utter delight.”

The answer, in case you hadn’t guessed, is no. And no. There isn’t a chance in hell — and yes that fiery pit awaits you — of ever understanding one another. God made gender like a gypsy’s tag-sale: a preposterous collection of misshapen puzzle pieces that will never fit together. The best we can do is jam our genitals together in a fleeting wet mashing motion to try and create a child and then take a shower.

But for those of you who just don’t get it, I’ve taken the liberty of expanding upon the Christian Broadcasting Network’s recent interview with author Shaunti Feldhahn, who recently penned “For Women Only: What You Need to Know About the Inner Lives of Men.” It is simply a glittering gem of unprecedented insight; the first thing I’ve ever read that could single-handedly render what was previously unintelligible weeping and grunts into something resembling a conversation between men and women.

Forgive me while I genuflect.

As a response and humble homage to “10 Things Guys Wish Women Knew About Men” — a post gleaned from Feldhahn’s uncanny advice from interviewing more than 1,000 mysterious menfolk — I’ve crafted “10 Things Girls Wish Men Knew About Women.”

Using an interview with just me. Because, let’s be honest: When it comes to female motivation and desire, we’re all the damn same! Just like our penis-ed brethren. (Although I appreciate Feldhahn’s dogged, journalistic tenacity.)

1. Women would rather feel inadequate and disrespected than unloved.

According to Feldhahn, “Husbands need to know that their wives respect them both privately and publicly . . . Men thrive when they know that their wives trust them, admire them and believe in them. “

This is not the case with us. We are inadequate. We’ve been over this. Between our physical weakness, cognitive deficiencies, and tell-tale vaginas — hello! Why do you think God made a huge gaping hole in our bodies if not to remind us of our inherent lacking — we’re not in the market for admiration or trust. I mean, that age-old biblical axiom was scrawled from on high for a reason: Never trust anything that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die.

Women are, after all, merely voids to be filled. With your love. (i.e. penis.) To reiterate: Women neither want nor need respect from their partner.

Which brings us to the next point.

2. A women’s anger is often a response to feeling a little too respected.

“When a husband becomes angry with his wife, he may not come out and say, ‘You’re disrespecting me!’ But, there is a good likelihood that he is feeling stung by something his wife has done which he considers disrespectful and humiliating.”

That’s right. Don’t try and articulate what we might have done to upset you. Instead, not-so-subtly slam doors, cabinets, and drawers until we peevishly ask what’s wrong and you can respond with, “Shut your flapping lips you daft cow,” before retiring to your man cave to play SlaughterBitch 7. We just need to know that you’re angry. Not that we’re being “heard” or some such nonsense. The sooner you punish us for our nebulous transgression, the sooner we can self-flagellate and fellate you in repentance.

(Oh, and by “anger” we mean that soft clicking noise we make with our tongue sometimes.)

3. Women are insecure.

“To men, affirmation from their wives is everything! If they don’t receive this affirmation from their wives, they’ll seek it elsewhere.”

A nice solid emotional threat keeps us in line. We know — intuitively — from the moment we grew from rib to womanly wench that we’re imperfect. Let us know that if we don’t properly bolster your understandable ego — after all, you giveth us everything — that you will get up and tug the terrycloth shorts off our nubile nanny. Because she is quick to remind you (every day she traipses into the kitchen) that you are the best-looking father in town. “And so funny too!”

4. Women feel the burden of being the provider for their family.

Just kidding!

“Men simply bear the emotional burden of providing for their family. It’s not a burden they’ve chosen to bear. Men are simply wired with this burden.”

God intended for you mighty men to rule over the creatures of land, sea, and sky. And when critters great and small are under your thumb — and care! — that weight can be crushing. Think nothing of what us women must endure: chapped hands, tirelessly washing dishes, mending socks, cooking not-so-flavorful meals because you hate salt and “anything browned,” grinding Shout-sticks into soiled underpants, and raising our five children to be God-fearing, obedient minions. We provide very little but a set of breasts to hang a snuggish blouse on.

Which brings me to the next point.

5. Women want less sex.

“Men simply need to be wanted. Regular, fulfilling sex is critical to a man’s sense of feeling loved and desired.”

This is not so for us. Being desired is confusing, inducing feelings of panic and shame. Sometimes — but for this we pray — we feel pangs of disorienting lasciviousness, cravenly craving the naked body of our husband near us, but we cleverly subsume these feelings into that of our better halves’, reminding ourselves with a deft pinch of the clitoris that fulfilling sex is the realm of men-folk. Orgasms are highly overrated. That kind of muscular spasming is unsightly and time consuming.

6. Sex means more than sex.

“When a husband feels rejected sexually, he not only feels his wife is rejecting him physically, but that she is somehow rejecting his life as a husband, provider and man.”

We will never reject you. Simply present your member before our faces — even if we’re sleeping — and we will do the rest. Grope our bottoms as we bend to clean the toilet or tuck our toddler into bed. Sex does indeed mean more than sex. It means we are doing our God-given wifely duty to drain your beautifully veined trouser-snake. When we fail to open our legs for our husbands we condemn his very existence, his domination over our bodies and lives. So keep those thighs swinging faster than a Western saloon’s door.

7. Women struggle with mental temptation.

“Even the most godly husband cannot avoid noticing a woman who dresses in a way that draws attention to her body . . . Men can choose whether to dwell on these images and memories or dismiss them, but they can’t control when these images appear.”

We too understand this struggle … although the male figure — his quiet bulge beckoning us from his too-tight trousers — is not something we’re mentally tempted by. We never ever think about a dusty, sweat-smeared cowboy ravishing us in the barn, our panties tugged around our knees as he takes us from behind, his hot breath against our neck bringing us over the brink of ecstasy.

8. Women enjoy romance, but doubt their skills at receiving it.

“Men want to be romantic, but they just doubt their ability to pull it off … For example, a wife may balk when her husband asks her to go along to the hardware store, but it’s likely that he’s asking because he sees it as a time they can get away as a couple and hang out together. What’s not romantic about that?”

There is nothing more romantic than being asked to go to the hardware store. Pursuing aisles of glinting screws and packages of sandpaper? Following behind you as the fluorescent lights burn our eyes a little and you ask, again, if a gas grill might be a good addition to the patio … is the stuff that makes our heart flutter. We just want to be near you. And watch you carry all those power tools we can’t afford to the check-out counter.

Another good place to get away together? A noisy sports bar where you can slosh beer on my new skirt and scream in my ear.

9. Women worry about their appearance.

“What men really want is to know that their wives are making an effort to take care of themselves (and not letting themselves go) because it matters to them (the husbands!). Husbands appreciate the efforts their wives make to maintain their attractiveness.”

When we’re not worrying about what’s for dinner and if the kitchen counters are still sticky, we’re wondering — compulsively — if we’re pretty enough. If our vaginas are eliciting the proper scent of fiji breeze, if our breasts are pert enough, our asses high enough; if our 4 hours of sleep (because you can’t sleep unless you come four times) is showing beneath our swollen eyes.

Remind us that our worrying is worth it. See #6. Present your member and penetrate.

10. Women know how much their husbands love them.

“Men aren’t confident in their ability to express this, but they love their wives dearly. Men want to show how much they love their wives and long for them to understand this fact.”

We understand! Don’t ever the say those three pesky words — we know how humiliating that is. Simply squeeze our breast absentmindedly as you’re walking to the garage or bring home some extra steak from the butcher that can be de-fatted for dinner. Sign our mother’s birthday card with a sloppy “X” instead of your name as you snicker at the television and call Hillary Clinton a “wrinkled old slut.”

We love you too.
Comedy – The Huffington Post
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6 Grooms Share: When I Knew I Was Going to Marry My Future Wife

Ninety-nine percent of the time I’m all about the bride, but this post is dedicated to that guy waiting at the end of the aisle—and when he knew his girlfriend would someday be his wife….




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Girl's Best Friend - SuperJeweler.com

3 Things I Know Now That I Wish I Knew While Wedding Planning

The gifts have been unwrapped, the cards opened, the veil put away, and the dress dropped off at the cleaners. The honeymoon has come and gone, a blissful week spent amongst coconut trees and rainforests in Costa Rica. Reality has set back in after more than a year of wedding planning, and I’m not suffering from those “post-wedding blues” that everyone talks about.

Don’t get me wrong — our wedding was the most amazing day, surrounded by loving family and friends, set to the soundtrack of slammin’ ’90s hits all night long. I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything else. But I won’t lie to you. The morning after our wedding, I woke up with this incredible lightness. Was it because I just married the love of my life? Yes. Was it also because the biggest stressor of my life for the past year and a half was now over and I could go back to real life? Yes, yes, yes, a million times, yes. As my husband and I drove away from the bed and breakfast we stayed at in our small hometown, I couldn’t help but think with insatiable giddiness, it’s over. Thank God. And then right after that, oh my goodness. I just had a year-long panic attack over a mere 12 hours. TWELVE HOURS. Dear lord.

I’m an anxious person by nature. I hardly ever sleep a full night without waking up like five times, I’m prone to panic, and big changes freak me out. Throw something like planning a wedding on top of all that, and you’re looking at a full-blown basket case by the time the shindig rolled around. I can recount actual nightmares I have had about mundane things like rental chairs not showing up, or ordering pizza for the reception because the food was missing (actually, pizza might have been pretty cool, but dream Alex wasn’t having it) or worse, no one dancing and just glumly sitting at their tables. One morning, the week of the wedding, I completely missed my train stop on the way to work, my head somewhere up in the wedding clouds. I was sure I was going slightly insane. You can call my mother and she will attest to this. The poor woman fielded many a panicked wedding call, mostly about things on the below list. (Sorry, mom. I love you!)

1. Stop worrying so much about the damn weather.
In the three weeks leading up to my outdoor wedding, I became an expert in online weather sites, ranging from Accuweather to WeatherSpark to The Weather Channel to WeatherBug… I could keep going. I reached a point where I was spending a solid 30 minutes at a time weather sleuthing, jumping seamlessly from site to site and map to map. I suffered so much angst when it was forecasted approximately 15 days out that there would be a 70 percent chance of rain (depending on which site that I was looking at) on the day of the wedding. Because you know, 15 days out is a completely accurate amount of time to forecast the weather. (Hint: It’s not. Please don’t take that forecast seriously.) Checking the weather became so second nature that I was still watching weather reports and checking weather apps the morning of the wedding when the sun was streaming through my windows. You know, just in case.

2. You are the only person who will notice if one thing goes wrong.
Luckily for us, nothing really “went wrong” during the day. There were a few minor hiccups that only my husband and I noticed. For example, I spent so much time in the months before worrying over the outdoor sound system so that both my cousin could play our ceremony music and our officiant could have a microphone to use. I found a small, portable, battery-powered guitar amp, specifically with a mic input so that my cousin could play his guitar, and we could plug a mic in for our officiant to be heard. I was standing across from my husband and after getting over the shock of, you know, walking down the aisle, this thought flashed (very quickly) through my head:

….Where’s the microphone? Can people hear? Oh, well. Can’t fix it now.

The microphone my cousin brought didn’t end up working, and there had been no time to get a new one. The ceremony went on as is, our officiant’s voice booming without a mic. The whole ceremony was still beautiful. Moral of the story: just calm down. It’s all going to be fine.

3. Don’t care about what other people will think of your wedding.
I come from an Italian background where one Sunday dinner feeds you and your entire extended family, plus the neighbors and whoever else you feel like, for a week because all you do is just eat all. day. long. There’s a reason that stereotypes exist about Italian weddings. Our wedding was the antithesis to your typical Italian grandeur — I spent more time than I should have worried about what my extended family would think about my small-ish, outdoor, non-religious (read: not Catholic) ceremony with a reception at our local brewery where we had cocktail food and a taco bar. I’m not really sure why I focused so much energy on the judgements of everyone else when at the end of the day, I knew that my husband and I LOVED the wedding that we had planned. That really should have been good enough for me — it would have saved me a lot of needless anxiety.

Everything about our wedding was perfect to me. I loved watching my 10-year-old sister dance with my husband, I loved spending time with both of our families, and I loved the fact that I both laughed and cried when we said our vows. It was a beautiful, magical day — and I never, ever, ever want to do it again.

alexandra rosario2

Weddings – The Huffington Post
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The Moment I Knew I Had To Break Up With My Best Friend

By Jean Hanff Korelitz

The author of the page-turning You Should Have Known explains how she knew when her toughest relationship had ended& — and why.

I can barely remember what the argument was about, but I do remember the tiny, irrelevant details: midmorning sun on the extremely white pavement, the smell of some very sweet flower I couldn’t quite identify, someone’s cat watching from a window across the street and the steep decline of the street Molly and I were standing on, which was heading downhill fast, like—not to put too fine a point on it—our friendship. A friendship that had lasted nearly 30 years, but had only moments left to run.

Okay, okay, I do remember what we were arguing about, but now, eight years later, the specifics are so laughably stupid that revealing them makes us both sound like ridiculous children fighting over a bit of colored plastic at the nursery school. The argument was about driving, which I was afraid to do in San Francisco, where Molly lived and where I was visiting. We were fighting about the fact that I had not rented a car at the airport like a normal person, and now Molly would have to drive me somewhere we both wanted to go (which was not the problem), but then she would also have to take me somewhere only I needed to go, and where she did not wish to go (which was very much the problem). On and on it went, only it wasn’t actually an argument, I realized, because I wasn’t saying anything. I was standing still and listening as she harangued and criticized, as I had stood still and listened so many times before.

The pavement. The flower. The watching cat. The steep decline of that San Francisco street.

At some point, I must have realized that I was crying, but that wasn’t the strangest thing. We’d argued so many times over the course of our difficult friendship, and probably I’d cried before, or stalked away feeling sullen and resentful, or rushed to call another friend and complain about how critical and punishing Molly was. There had been so many times, after some cutting remark, that we had temporarily stopped speaking—just long enough for me to remember how much I loved her, and how much she loved me and that she did not intend the things she sometimes said to be unkind. A few weeks or a month or two would pass, and then Molly would be on the phone, letting me know that she was heading to the East Coast, or I would call her to tell her about some great thing I had found at the flea market, and we would proceed.

Then I realized that I was crying because I had figured out that Molly and I were never going to speak to each other again; this time, when she called or emailed me after a month, or six months or a year, I was not going to pick up the phone or email her back. Right now, right here on the street, I was giving up. Finally.

***

We had started our friendship during the first freshman week of college, both of us newly arrived in our so-called adult lives. Molly was beautiful and smart and wildly talented as an artist. I thought she was a superwoman, and she must have felt something similar about me because, for my birthday that year, she drew a cartoon of me amid all of my perceived accomplishments at college: a pen! an oar! a stack of books! It was a glowing, idealized version of me, and I loved it. It also led to our first major fight.

I had loaned her some money. Some time later, and short of money, myself, I asked for it back. Perhaps, she suggested, while furiously writing me a check, she ought to deduct the cost of art supplies for my birthday gift. We didn’t speak for the next three years.

Then we tried again, reuniting, with relief, after graduation, as if college—not the intersection of our personalities—had been to blame. I had gone abroad to study, returning with the man I would marry. She was living in New York, working in advertising, but not on the creative side where she belonged; instead, her smarts and
competence began to take her deeper and deeper into a marketing career she could never make peace with, let alone love. She met a co-worker and moved west with him. In 1987, she was a bridesmaid in my wedding. The following year, I was matron of honor in hers.

So far so good, right? Two women who loved and admired each other, who wanted happiness and success for each other, who were living on opposite sides of the country with their new husbands—mine liked her, hers liked me—but were closely in touch, nonetheless. I must have left something out, right?

I have left a few things out.

For example, the anxiety she had struggled with since childhood. The intense self-focus that arose from that anxiety. The constant negativity and criticism. Sometimes, she showed such cruelty in the way she spoke about other people (a mutual acquaintance, a stranger on the street, a celebrity, or me) that I thought she could not possibly realize what she was saying. “Oh I can’t believe you have that bag.That is just disgusting,” she announced once, at a dinner party. She meant the 30-year-old Hermès Kelly handbag I had just bought on eBay, after having pined for one for more than a year. There was a moment of stunned silence in the room. I sat very still, as always, embarrassed (for her? for myself?) and trying to move past the comment. She loved me, I knew that. But her habit of wounding me so casually—what did it mean?

Still, no cutting remark directed at another person came close to the criticism she leveled at herself. Molly could take no pleasure in her accomplishments, her beauty, her strong marriage. There were many times I would hang up the phone in despair over her crushing unhappiness. I couldn’t fix it and she didn’t want it to be fixed, so we were both frozen in place.

***

Why did it take so long? I wonder now. Was it because she had been my “best friend” for so long, because we had so much history, we had been “through so much” together? Maybe I knew how important our long friendship was to her, and worried that withdrawing from it would give her new ammunition with which to beat up on herself. Maybe I was just pathetic and weak, and took it for years because I couldn’t stick up for myself. Maybe all of this was true.

I’m a novelist by trade, but every one of us conjures a story for the people in our lives: his terrible childhood, her inability to trust, this child’s yearning for stability. My narrative for Molly was that she was so encased in her own suffering that she truly did not experience her anger and need for control as real…but eventually a great and happy day would come when she would accept that she was all of the things I plainly saw—stunning and smart and talented and deserving of love—and how much happier and more at ease in her own life she would be then! I believed that for years. I persuaded myself of that for years.

Until, that day in San Francisco, when I found that I no longer had it in me to keep this fiction alive. I suppose these epiphanies happen all the time, to people everywhere. One moment, you’re listening to the same internal justifications you’ve listened to countless times before; the next moment, you have passed through some unseen membrane, and from the other side you can suddenly hear yourself think—with crystal clarity: Oh, I understand. I’m done.

For months afterward, I talked about Molly incessantly, compulsively, with people who had known us both and with people who’d never met her. Did I do the right thing? I asked everyone. What should I have done? I wish I’d known, while it was actually happening on that San Francisco sidewalk, that I’d be okay, that I’d slowly move forward in my life
with other friends, some of whom had never met or even heard of Molly. That I’d celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary without her, and she—I suppose—would do the same without me. That a few months later, I’d be able to see the entire arc of our friendship, from its beginnings through its trials to its conclusion, and with that perspective would come a return of the vast affection I had always felt for her.

Even now, I truly and sincerely want her to be successful, fulfilled and surrounded by people who love her as much as I loved her, but who are also better equipped to tolerate what I had not been able to tolerate. Sometimes, old friends and family members ask me if I miss Molly, and the answer is yes, I miss her very much. But I don’t miss the friendship. I don’t miss the friendship at all.

Jean Hanff Korelitz is the author of You Should Have Known, The White Rose and A Jury of Her Peers.


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