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TAKE HOME FOLDER TAKE-DOWN

    WHEREIN you empty the ephemera-crapload from First Born Son’s backpack and gingerly unpack the onion-skin-remnant once known as THE TAKE HOME FOLDER. WHEREIN you ask your child which taped-toothpick stilt he wants to save and which tinfoil/glue throwing star-wad you may dispose of, and the answer always equals SAVE. WHERIN after thoughtful consideration three days prior you threw out an unmarked and seemingly errant fresh-herbs-themed paper napkin from THE TAKE HOME FOLDER, having no idea that this one singular paper napkin sensation held the promise of DIY parachute. WHEREIN at 7 am First Born Son–buoyant… Read More »TAKE HOME FOLDER TAKE-DOWN

    20 Things Not To Say at My 20 Year High School Reunion

      How sweet of you to bring your dad! I see you still take off your shirt, put your tie around your sweaty head and do The Running Man when you’re wasted. That looks different now. Whenever I’m on Etsy I think of you and those tacky ribbon barrettes we used to wear. And…oh my, still do! Can I have a turn in your Dad’s Bjorn, little fella? Want to go harmonize in the stairwell? So do you still identify as a skinhead or is this a pattern baldness work-around? Would you say that whole GED… Read More »20 Things Not To Say at My 20 Year High School Reunion

      A Very Sweatshop Mother’s Day: A Vignette

        My mom and I just took the Tenement Museum Tour in NYC, and this conversation happened afterward. In my head. And this is not a sponsored post, except by guilt. Cast of Characters: Ann Imig: Stay-at-home humorist LTYM National Director 2012, Mother of 2. Jenny Levine, Tenement Sweatshop Matriarch 1892 , Mother of 2 going on 5. Ann: I’m tired. Jenny: (translated from Yiddish) Worrrrrd. Ann : I’m working so hard! I’ve precious little energy to blog or tweet! Jenny: I’m working so hard in my 300 square foot tenement apartment/garment workshop filled with my… Read More »A Very Sweatshop Mother’s Day: A Vignette

        Intermarriage: Cut Crystal? Meet Dreidel. (my stand-up routine)

          Last weekend at the Erma Bombeck Writer’s Workshop I had the chance to try stand-up, below find an expanded version of my set… Hi. My name is Ann. I hold the distinction of being a third generation Jewish Wisconsinite. Such a cliché, right? Because when you think Wisconsin you invariably think cheese curds, The Green Bay Packers, and plucky Jews. My Mom hails from Janesville, Wisconsin. Her Dad hails from Janesville, Wisconsin. His Dad—my great grandfather–had the audacity to leave Janesville, Wisconsin to spend his later years on a Kibbutz in Israel. Other members of… Read More »Intermarriage: Cut Crystal? Meet Dreidel. (my stand-up routine)

          The Accidental Directress

            As a young actor, I found the idea of directing intimidating. I couldn’t imagine the pressure of having everyone relying on me. I could handle enormous and public personal responsibility–memorizing and reciting pages of monologues, or performing two shows-worth of Eliza Doolittle back-to-back. Setting another actor’s props, assisting with scenery changes–anything that might trip up another actor (beyond feeding them a line of dialogue)–made my stomach play dead. Until very recently I maintained that directing does not come naturally to me—I saw myself sitting demurely to the side—in a soft, flattering light—quietly studying my own… Read More »The Accidental Directress

            Get your multi-media dose of Ann Imig THIS WEEK ONLY!

              Are you experiencing seasonal Ann Imig-deficiency? Do you have Ann Imig-poor blood? Missing your daily weekly fortnightly Ann Imig? Good news! This week and this week only get four times your Ann Imig for no money down. No hassle, no payments Ann Imig! You can retrieve this special edition double double-stuffed Ann Imig in the following ways: 1. Ann Imig’s finger-digits typed this one-time-only gratis introductory blog post. 2. Go to hulu.com and watch the witty and wonderful series Battleground episode 8 for Ann Imig as “Busybody campaign staffer” in three scenes (that’s three of… Read More »Get your multi-media dose of Ann Imig THIS WEEK ONLY!

              Five and Dime and The Female

                My earliest dime store recollection involves a lunchtime outing with my Mom from Quisling Clinic where she worked as a therapist, to the Woolworth’s store on the capitol square. I was probably five years old and I remember eyeing coconut-covered donuts in a glass cake stand at the coffee counter. Mom likely bought nylons or Nivea hand cream, and she allowed me to choose a toy from the glorious aisles of plastic-encased plastic.  I selected a miniature nursing kit and proudly shared it with the real nurses at the clinic upon our return. A female’s… Read More »Five and Dime and The Female

                Cure for No Dinner (plus diagram fun)!

                  1. Shop only the perimeter! Kids love a nice rutabaga on pumpernickel. 2. Buy organic! Conventional apples are on sale for $2.00 per three-pound bag, but have more poison on them than Snow White’s famous fruit (the apple, not Bashful). Organic Cameos, Pink Ladies, and Mickey Rooneys cost only as much as Tic Tacs per pound and come fresh, directly from a cold storage locker 1600 miles away in Carbon Footprint, CA. 3. Buy seasonal! Winter apples taste as apple-y as jicama, and if you don’t know what jicama is you obviously haven’t spent your… Read More »Cure for No Dinner (plus diagram fun)!

                  The Shrinking Half-life of Praise

                      photo by 2nd Street Photography Thirtyish years ago as a young Jewess—immersed in imaginary play and wearing my older sister’s pink tutu—I was interrupted mid-soliloquy by sibling cackles . I would never outlive this episode, forever fossilized in the family cannon of moments-you-never-live-down as “Whah am ahhI? (hand flourish) Whah ah my pawents?” (Translation: WHERE AM I? WHERE ARE MY PARENTS? THIS IS A VERY STRANGE AND BEAUTIFUL LAND I’VE AWOKEN IN AND I’M AN ENCHANTING AND GIFTED BLOND PRINCESS VIOLINIST NAMED CINDY!” I just never got to the rest what with all the… Read More »The Shrinking Half-life of Praise