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To my surprise and fascination, Monica trashed my penchant for all-black clothes, lefty politics, and suffering poets, rebelling against the poor artistic types she grew up with.After a few rejections and a fire (which destroyed the only copy of her manuscript), she forgot fiction and soon sneered at any male in torn jeans reading The New York Review of Books.In the case of this girl, it took me a little bit longer.I spent almost an entire year with this girl before I decided that I had had enough.That one girl would end up being all of our ex-bestfriend, however I was the first to notice the crazy and therefore the first to dump her.I've always been proud of what a good judge of character I am.

Alas, it was at the hospital just before he died at 71.It would be normal to acknowledge that she's not the most beautiful girl in the world, but for a relationship to work, there should be physical attraction.But perhaps they click on an emotional level instead, so looks don't bother him. Monica was a 26-year-old Wasp quitting her job as a New Yorker assistant to work on a novel.I was a 22-year-old Midwesterner escaping Jewish-princess-hood, enthralled to inherit her ,000-a-year magazine gig.