"Becoming Duchess Goldblatt"

Anonymous makes me regret not being on Twitter (a little bit).

DG:

• A lot of people go very Martha Graham when dancing on their enemies' graves. Me, I like flamenco. I want the souls of the dead to feel it.
• If you find yourself feeling embittered, roll around in a barrel of kosher salt until crusted, and then set yourself in a colander to drain.
• Sometimes I tie your tweets in linen with a little lavender and mint and use them as a poultice for my weary old heart.
• Slide a piece of waxed paper between the left side of your brain and the right side to keep them from squishing together and confusing you.
• Fictional people can now give blood. Of course, we have always given our blood; we have always poured out every bit of ourselves for you.
• Writers can be a lot of fun at parties, but word to the wise: Keep an eye on your good memories. They’ll strip them down for parts.
• Structural engineers are a calming presence. They never ask if you like their work, or if their oil rigs and hospitals are derivative.
• Don’t let anyone shame you for your love of an imaginary friend. Religions have been founded on less.
• Some of you have been coddled too long. I’m not cutting the crusts off these sentences for you anymore.
• Close your eyes and visualize the best possible outcome. When it’s not looking, grasp it by the neck and fling it into reality.

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• 'Look at your family of origin'
• “She was . . . an untouchable. Not from scorn or fear, but from the obscenity of the loss,” wrote Bill Clegg in his novel, Did You Ever Have a Family.
• I figured meeting Lyle Lovett was a once-in-a-lifetime gift, and I was as grateful for it as I could be. I relaxed into the lack of expectations. It was ephemera, a sunset, a shooting star; I could marvel at its beauty and be content to watch it go by. Drop the pearl back into the ocean and it will disappear beneath the water. The universe will reclaim what’s not yours. I had become very used to losing people by that point, and I had no intention of getting attached to anybody new. One way or another, everyone leaves. There are hidden benefits to being a fictional person. If people can’t find you, they can’t break your heart.
• I wanted there to be a home in this world where I could walk in the front door without knocking. What an unimaginable intimacy it would be to be welcome to walk into someone else’s home without knocking.
• When someone you love dies, you lose them in pieces over time, but you also get them back in pieces: little fragments of memory come rushing back through what they cared about, what brought them joy. If you’re lucky, you get little pieces back for the rest of your life. Some loves you don’t recover from.
• I’m also aware of a quote often attributed to Freud: “All family life is organized around the most damaged person in it.” I wasn’t even standing near the front of that line. In my family, in my home, in the time and the circumstances in which I was raised, anyone who could do nine years without speaking outside the family was a champ and a blessing and a bullet dodged, not a problem to be solved.
• “He is a beautiful human being,” the teacher said, her eyes bright. “Just a beautiful soul. I’m so glad I got a chance to tell you that.”
  Once more, a sound moved through sudden rightnesses. I knew for sure that he was going to be all right because in that moment I saw it written on my bones.
  And finally, with that, I could breathe.
• I’m going to tell you something about trust. It goes like this: It’s best if you decide to be true to the relationship rather than being true to the person. Because when the person lets you down (and he/she will!), you’ll say to yourself, “All bets are off!” And you’ll feel free to break a trust or breach privacy or be disloyal in big or small ways. It’s a justification. If you commit to the relationship, you’re being faithful to that. Same with friendship. - PJ