THE JOAN

I don’t want to simply re-blog (because I hate the whole concept) but I have to say that the article about Joan Didion from New York Magazine last week (I guess?) was pretty interesting, especially for me as I do have an intense love hate relationship with the Joan (still looking for a home for my essay about realizing she was too morose for words –– takers?)  The best part of the article was undoubtedly this little tidbit about Quintana Roo:

“At age 5, Quintana called Camarillo, the mental institution rumored to have inspired ‘Hotel California,’ to ask what she should do if she went crazy—a story Didion insists is not just family lore.”

Girl after my own heart.

I can’t to publish a picture of Joan because looking at her arms makes me queasy, so here’s an adorable Quintana Roo in Malibu.  I agree with the writer Barbara Grizzuti Harrison about her name, too –– pretty  wack, Joan.

How precious!?

And now, for some Joan Didion jokes!

Q: What’s Joan Didion’s favorite flavor of ice cream?
A [in death rattle tone]:  Ash.

Q: What’s Joan Didion’s favorite perfume?

A: Mothballs.

And now I’m going to make one up on my own…

Q: What’s Joan Didion’s favorite cocktail?

A: Rum with a splash of disquietude.

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