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...practitioner of the nearly lost art of decoupage) and keeps sea monkeys as pets. "They're really kind of gross," she admits. "I came in one day, and they were having sex. They were attached, and they were like, 'Uhh...' and I was like, 'Ohh... ' Three days later, they ate their babies...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: NOT JUST DADDY'S GIRL | 10/20/1997 | See Source »

...seemed to notice, much less to care, about my plight. Undoubtedly I hid many of my symptoms, as clinical depressives often do, but some were outwardly visible: I stopped going to two classes altogether; I lost 20 pounds over the course of the semester; I rarely ate a meal other than dinner, and then usually a meager dinner, almost always alone. From my seventeenth-floor perch over Cambridge, I spent long nights brooding, trying desperately to fend off deeply suicidal moods that regularly haunted me. The first people to notice were my parents, at Thanksgiving break; it wasn't until...

Author: By Jeremy R. Jenkins, | Title: Blind Ego | 10/15/1997 | See Source »

...parents never went to restaurants. We ate at home or at the homes of relatives--we were sensible people, not spendthrifts or dreamers. Once a year we went to the state fair and had Pronto Pups. That was it. Every Sunday morning, however, my father drove us to church, and the route took us past Murray's, and I would glance up from my Bible and the verse I was memorizing for Sunday school, and there was Murray's big marquee and the name written out in orange block letters and, above, a sign that said COCKTAILS/DANCING, and over...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE AGE OF ELEGANCE | 10/13/1997 | See Source »

...saved up Murray's for years, and then, when I turned 21, I couldn't go there because I was under the terrible burden of being hip--it took years for that to wear off, during which I ate what hip people were eating in Minneapolis then, ethnic food, most of it awful. I thought of Murray's as a den of Republicans: steaks became (in my mind) politicized. And then, on the very last day of my misspent years in graduate school, my role model and hero Arnie Goldman said, "School's out--what...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE AGE OF ELEGANCE | 10/13/1997 | See Source »

Some of us took copious notes in Justice lectures, some of us wandered the Yard for hours, looking for "that party in Greenough, or maybe Stoughton, I'm not sure," some of us even ate the Kung Pao chicken in Annenberg. Mine was introducing myself as a Yankees fan(atic) to someone from Atlanta...

Author: By Daniel G. Habib, | Title: Sadly, Yankees Go Home | 10/9/1997 | See Source »

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