We bought it then and buy it now--though, of course, her kiddos are old enough to spend all day in school, which means Mayor Laura's gonna have to start working the cafeteria chow line or teaching calculus to spend a lot of time with the kids.
But to provide a little context to this shalom, we thought we'd remind you (and, sure, the mayor) of her other last waltz, which the Observer greeted by telling Miller, "You'll either be back here in six months, begging us to let you back in the paper, or you'll be drinking vodka out of a tumbler and having an affair." As she wrote then, "Now that's a vote of confidence." That's not all she wrote:
"I'm going to smell the coffee, drink the wine, crack the novel, don the apron, and be--oh, this would be sweet--the first one to walk into the children's department for Neiman's Last Call.
"I'm not writing another thing until I've done at least one insufferably cute birthday party, complete with face painting, heart-shaped sandwiches, and a candy hunt on the front lawn.
"I'm not putting pen to paper until I can be one of those women I've always wanted to pluck to death with a sharp pair of tweezers--you know, the ones poised delicately on the couch at Borders books in perfectly pressed denim skirts on a rainy Monday afternoon, enjoying their second cup of cappuccino as they read a beautifully illustrated children's book to their impeccably dressed and ridiculously well-behaved toddler.
"People who know me, of course, think that my surprise foray into domesticity proves only one thing--that I'm out of my goddamned mind."
