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Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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Monday
May012006

Arrivederci

No reservations. No schedules. No expectations. Just Italy, us and a credit card. Milan. Maybe Lake Como? Venice has been discussed. Florence too. Perhaps Pisa? Rome? Truthfully I don't much care where, just who.

I want to hold my husband's hand, feel the length of him next to me... his palm imperceptibly guiding me by pressing gently into the small of my back as we stroll thousand year old streets and see the sights, whatever they may be...
Saturday
Apr292006

Aside From The Millions Of Dollars It Would Kind Of Suck To Be Famous

It is Ethan Hawke. The actor. I suppose he's an author as well but have you read either of his books? Thought so. He is standing next to me on the corner of Columbus and 68th on the Upper West Side. I've just stepped out of the building that houses the news station in which I work to grab a sandwich for lunch.

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Thursday
Apr272006

The Reluctant Suburbanite

I was on the phone last night with a friend of mine who lives in Happy Valley, (A.K.A Utah County) Utah. "What are you doing?" I ask. "Picking up my kids." He replies. "Come on kids!" He shouts to his three small children. Buckle in gang! If you're good we'll go to Wendy's maybe." "You are SO suburban!" I shout. "I most certainly am NOT!"

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Wednesday
Apr262006

The City Is Not My Friend Today

This latest Marah tour has been hell on my marriage. Is a successful marriage possible when a great distance is repeatedly shoved between those who long to be together? A relationship conducted through a string of texts and late night phone calls. Am I wrong for wanting to break my phone? Stomp it to pieces beneath my shoe.

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Tuesday
Apr252006

Self Portrait

This latest Marah tour has been hell on my marriage. Is a successful marriage possible when a great distance is repeatedly shoved between those who long to be together? A relationship conducted through a string of texts and late night phone calls. Am I wrong for wanting to break my phone? Stomp it to pieces beneath my shoe.

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