John & Belle Have A Blog

Dreams

When my little sister wished me good night as a child, she would say cheerfully: "don't dream!" This is because both she and I had horrible vivid nightmares all the time. (I'm quite certain I've written about this before, but let's pretend I didn't) I actually did Freudian analysis three times a week for a year or so to get rid of this (really, lying on the couch like in a New Yorker cartoon and everything). It worked! So, if you're troubled by horrible nightmares and have lots of money, I have a solution for you. I thought it was common gospel, though, that other people's dreams are boring, which I why I was surprised to read this NYT article on people forming dream clubs. Basically like a book club only with the members describing their dreams rather than reading a book. As it happens, my own dreams are really interesting. (I know you're thinking everyone thinks this about their own dreams). They sometimes take the form of awesome space operas, like one in which I entered a colony ship in which all the inhabitants were frozen, awaiting revival at their destination. To populate the new world they had created various environments in the unimaginably vast ship. One of them was the pre-Cambrian era, in which I stood on the bare rock and peered queasily into the teeming ocean. Anyway, I came to realize that the ship had made an error, and they had overshot their destination and had now been asleep for thousands of years. I revived them all, and was trying to explain the truth of the matter to them, though they were all very skeptical. Finally I led them to a huge window to look at the completely unknown starfield, which included a bloated red giant, and they contemplated it in silence and horror as they recognized it didn't resemble the view from their destination solar system at all. See, interesting, right? To be fair I haven't had a dream quite that great in some time, but it happens. Anyway, I thought the stereotype was someone else is narrating their dream to you and it's all "and my brother was there, but it wasn't my real brother, and then we went up to this crumbling tower, and blah blah blah." Do you generally feel this way about people's dreams? My helper Tena always wanted to scour mine for numbers to bet on the 4D lottery. Don't think she ever did any better than SGD250 on that, but there you go.

Bad Boys

The stereotype that chicks only dig bad guys is a staple of annoying "nice guy" syndrome. And I myself am very happily married to a nice, low-key guy whose only vice is buying overly-large Marvel compendiums of the X-Men. Nonetheless, I have the worst crush pattern ever, starting with my childhood thing for Prince Lotor from Voltron. I mean, dude, he's blue. Sylar? Lost's Man in Black? Mumble ex-boyfriends mumble something? Oh well. As long as I don't start corresponding with serial killers in jai I'll probably be fine.

I forgot it was Monday!

I just realized: I forgot to post a Squid and Owl something or other yesterday. Even though it was Monday.

I forgot it was Monday.

You see: it's a holiday here in Singapore. National Day. Three day weekend. And all the girls were goofy with jetlag so I was kinda busy. Phenomenologically, yesterday was definitely Sunday. But today is Tuesday. How ... weird.

Grey Gardens

Jezebel has a great collection of stills from the new movie with Drew Barrymore. The costumes look amazing. My grandfather's best friend for many years was Bouvier Beale, who was Little Edie's brother, I think. For some reason I've never asked him what the rest of the family thought about the bizarre, gothic state of Grey Gardens. Didn't anyone try to help them out? I guess I'll ask him. His take on Jackie Onassis was always that she was dumb as a post, but just smart eough to keep her mouth shut so that nobody noticed. My grandfather is not the most charitable person in the world. Truthfully, he can be just awful at times, but everybody loves him anyway. He's got charisma. I hope he's well enough this summer for us all to go to East Hampton; John is actually going to come too, for the first time in years!

Pearls

As I think I've metioned before, my grandmother Nannie would never let anyone sleep with a necklace on because she had an Aunt Harriet who died in a hotel, strangled by her pearl necklace. After I got to a certain age I started to feel suspicious about this. A while ago my mom sent me a pdf of the NYT article about the case, "Woman Found Dead in Film Man's Room"; I just found it in a desktop cleanup and thought you all might be interested. Not sure when the date was, exactly, maybe the NYT archive can tell me even without my having access, or maybe a reader with a subscription can help? [Wait, I see: January 16, 1930.] But do they even have every year digitized? Anyway, here it is:

The body of Mrs. Harriet Adler, estranged wife of a bond broker and friend of Gilbert Seldes, author and critic, was found yesterday morning in the penthouse apartment of Dudley Murphy, a motion picture director, on the roof of the twenty-one story office building at 18 East Forty-first Street.

More than two hours elapsed between the discovery of the woman's body by a Negro maid at 9:40 A.M. and the time when police of the East Thirty-fifth Street station were notified. In the meantime a private physician had pronounced Mrs. Adler dead and the body had been moved, according to Detectives Patrick Mullarney [!--ed] and Joseph Hogan.

At first the detectives thought that Mrs. Adler, who lived at 155 East Seventy-second Street with her 3-year-old son and Mrs. Olive Dempsey, her housekeeper, had been strangled with the string of matched pearls she wore about her throat. After questioning Murphy and John M. Barbour, a designer of 601 Lexington Avenue, who were asleep in the apartment when the woman's body was found, they ascribed the woman's death to natural causes and reported there was "nothing suspicious" about the case. Neither Murphy nor Barbour were detained. [It was a cheery Christmas at the Mullarney and Hogan homes that year, one imagines.]

Certain circumstances about the case, however, caused Dr. Harry Weinberg, assistant Medical Examiner, after consulting with his chief, Dr. Charles G. Norris, to order the removal of the body to the morgue for an autopsy today. In some manner the string of pearls had been pressed against Mrs. Adler's throat until they left tiny indentations in the flesh. These ligature marks and a slight discoloration to the face hinted strongly enough at possible strangulation, Dr. Weinberg said, to make it wise to "avoid guesswork."

Dr. Weinberg said that he detected an odor of alcohol. It was his opinion, from his preliminary examination, that she had been drinking heavily and that death was caused by heart disease. Under the circumstances, however, he felt that a more thorough investigation was necessary.

Mrs. Adler was the former Harriet Mowry. Her family was listed in the social register. Her husband, Hamilton Adler, is head of the brokerage firm of that name at 120 Broadway. Mr. Adler, who lives at 1,112 Park Avenue left Dec. 23 for a vacation in Honolulu. He had been separated from his wife for some time, and their one son, Hamilton Jr., was living with his mother.

Murphy, a former camera man who recently directed a talking "short" for Paramount-Famous-Lasky Corporation at their studio in Astoria, L.I., told detectives that Mrs. Adler came to his apartment early yesterday morning without an invitation. When he and Barbour retired, he said, they left her sitting in the living room of the six-room apartment, awaiting a telephone call.

He met her first about three weeks ago at the Algonquin Hotel, where he lunches frequently with members of the literary group composing the "round table." He had forgotten who introduced him, he said, adding that the introduction made so little impression on him that Mrs. Adler had to remind him of at when next he saw her about ten days ago at a party given by Mr. Seldes at his apartment at 1,290 Madison Avenue....

[I'll synopsize here: according to the two guys, they become better aquainted at the party, she just shows up at his place drunk a few days later, when Barbour was there but Murphy was still out getting a snack with some other friends. Eventually Barbour lets her come up around 1:30 A.M. When Murphy gets back they both offer to see her home but she refuses, so they just go to bed leaving her still up. Allegedly. Then, in the morning, the wonderfully named Neutrice St. Louis, "Murphy's Negro maid", sees the woman sprawled out on the sofa but assumes she's sleeping. Someone comes to the door and asks for Murphy and then goes away without leaving his name, so Murphy gets up, at which point he realizes she's cold, and calls a doctor who lives in the building. The doc says she's dead and advises them to call the police...]

It was nearly noon when the police were notified. Dr. Greenblatt, of the Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled, who answered the ambulance call, said the woman had been dead several hours. Detective Mullarney said he found Mrs. Adler in an upright position on the couch. Murphy told him that he had helped place her so. When he first noticed her upon emerging from his bedroom, Murphy said, Mrs. Adler was lying on her stomach across a corner of the couch with the tips of her toes on the floor and her head hanging over the other side.

Mrs. Adler was wearing a black satin dress, black mesh stockings, and gray kid shoes. Her coat was thrown over the back of a chair and her hat rested upon a refectory table. Upon one wrist Mrs. Adler wore a jade link bracelet, and upon the other a platinum wrist watch set with diamond chips. She wore a diamond ring upon one of the fingers of her left hand.

Everything in the apartment was in perfect order. No liquor was found in any of the rooms. The only indication of any sinister circumstances was the imprint of the pearls upon her neck. The indentation was not deep, and Detective Mullarney said he believed the woman, in fainting, had caught her arm in the necklace and drawn it tightly about her throat.

Mr. Seldes, author of "The Seven Lively Arts," and a contributor to serveral magazines, was shocked at the news of Mrs. Adler's death. He and Mrs. Seldes had known her for some time, he said. He recalled that Murphy had been at his party and had paid considerable attention to Mrs. Adler, but said he would prefer not to disclose the names of oter guests.

Murphy first acheived distinction in Hollywood with his camera work in "The Ballet Mécanique." Since then he has directed several pictures, among them "Frankie and Johnny," in which Gilda Gray was featured. At the Paramount offices it was said he had directed one "short" for them but was connected no longer with the organization.

So, what do you think, guys? I'm thinking someone got away with murder, although I wouldn't put it past any woman in my family to drink herself to death at an inconvenient moment...

Happy

Here are those darn photos. From our wedding day, with our friend Daniel:

A picture taken by Zoë:

Daddy's looking great.

From the other day, when we all had the excitement of mommy's finding the best bathing suit ever!!

Casting modesty aside, I think I'm still looking pretty foxy. Of course, my plan is to take the perfect bathing suit and the children and go spend the summer in East Hampton while my poor husband slaves away trying to get tenure. You'll all have to buy him virtual beers, or something, the poor devil.

I Suck at Blogging. Wish Me a Happy Birthday and Anniversary!

It was my birthday on the 5th, so yay me. Also, it was our 10th wedding anniversary on the 6th, so yay us! I kept meaning to scan this picture from our wedding and put it up, but John has been monopolizing the desktop, I have been busy scavenging things from abandoned apartments slated for destruction (ask me about creepy piles of human hair!) and blah blah blah. So, I better just go on and post anyway. Thanks, gang.

Who Knows What I'll Wear to the EFBs Now.

In the end, that incredible necklace went for $6,950, and not to me. Actually that's a really good price. I considered bidding when it was under $2,000, but I knew it would shoot up way past that as the end of the auction neared. Maybe what I really need is this. I have some citrine jewelry that matches...

Oddly enough, the day after making that joke, I actually ended up needing double-sided tape to keep a dress on for the first time in my life. It was a party where you were meant to dress up as a princess or a cowboy, and none of you will be surprised to learn I chose princess. I have an actual tiara, and let me tell you, there aren't many opportunities to wear it. I wore it to my wedding rehearsal dinner, and to a few parties in San Francisco, but really it is not your go-to look for many occasions. So I got a cute long dress at 60% from Guess, but the fit was not great. I ended up cutting up a bra and sewing the cups inside the dress, and disassembled a rhinestone bracelet to sew at the bottom of the plunge neckline. I am the MacGuyver of evening dresses, people. I got to dance to Michael Jackson's "Blame it on the boogie", so you know the party was fun.

I Take That Back

Naw, I really want this. I'd wear it...you know, like...picking up the dry cleaning? Or, wait, collecting my excellence in the field of blogging awards? I'm so stocking up on the flesh-colored, double-sided tape before that one, believe you me. Something's got to keep that dress on.

Cool Stuff

Fantasy shopping on eBay is very entertaining. Actual shopping on eBay is also great, of course, and I go off on little tears like, "I need vintage metal sign letters", or "where are my tiny ceramic deer." I have never bought any jewelry on eBay, nor anything costing over $100 with shipping, but this seller has got some amazing Indian jewelry. I love that stuff, but any impulse to by it on eBay is stifled by the notion that Singapore has got to be a better place to find this type of thing than the internets...