Word: homeness
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...located the calcifications with a digital X ray. Through an incision no bigger than a match head, he inserted a hollow probe. Within minutes the suspicious calcifications were vacuumed out and snipped off with a rotating blade, ready for analysis. After about an hour, I was on my way home with an ice pack on a tiny wound. No stitches. No scar. And a few days later, the good news: benign...
...been worried that Cruise and Kidman would put on movie-star airs. But the three of them--the supposedly phobic recluse and his two glamorous stars--became extraordinarily close during the making of Eyes Wide Shut. Though both stars had full shooting schedules in Sydney this month and at-home birthday bashes (she just turned 32, he will be 37 this week), they were eager to talk about Kubrick with TIME. "We're so proud of the movie, but we have this strange feeling about its success," says Kidman. "Stanley was always around. And now he's gone...
...time filming began in 1997, the three had become virtually inseparable. The set at Pinewood Studios outside London became their home away from home. The apartment of the film's couple was modeled after one Kubrick once kept in Manhattan, but Kidman chose the books, the color of the window shades, and even added the change Cruise always leaves by their bed at home. She populated it with her own things too, leaving her makeup in the bathroom, tossing her clothes on the floor. "It's sort of messy," she giggles, urging moviegoers to check out her living habits. Says...
...sexual equality," says high priestess Palmer, a former military policewoman. "They're just a lot more tolerant. When you're in a foxhole, you don't care what religion the guy next to you belongs to." Army witches even have a sense of humor. At Halloween, Palmer turns her home, where she keeps a pet wolf named Spirit, into a haunted house for trick-or-treaters. "What could be better," she says, "than a haunted house with real witches and a wolf that howls on command...
...sheer mass of Baby Clementine and Otto the Puppy photographs was threatening to swallow the Quittner household. Our refrigerator was already covered with images of the shiny-faced dictator and her sock-eating companion. Would the microwave disappear next? Would our home explode in an updraft of glossy prints and curly brown negatives? I needed to move my clan to the clean, neatly organized world of digital photos. The trick was to do it cheaply...