My friends know that I fall in love constantly, and I may even have talked about that here...I see a woman in the street, on the subway, in a store, and my heartbeat alters itself, I get that soft mushy feeling inside, and for just a minute I'm in another world with whomever I've just seen. Sometimes it happens in real life, sometimes in make believe, this feeling of "I'm gone-ness". It happened about three weeks ago, when I finally had a cable box/DVR installed, and stumbled past a '70s movie called The Vanishing Point. I watched only about the last fifteen minutes, and truth be told the movie was moderately unintelligible, coming in almost at the end. But I fell in love with an actress named Gilda Texter, who, according to Netflix, has only one other credit to her name. She played a nudist/hippy/girlfriend who rode a motorcycle naked through the desert, with a perfect allover tan and these tiny breasts. My blogger friends know that I'm drawn to big breasted women as a rule, dangerous lilly or elle anguisette, tess the urban gypsy, jane not plain, being just a few, and so the rush of feeling for a mini breasted woman took me by surprise. I've gotten the movie out of the library, and watched her sequence several times...still in love.
At one point I was considering a post about women in their 40s discovering or rediscovering their sex drive, and I asked Lynsey, who had been public about this at one time, if she would mind my discussing it, and her, in the post. She had no objection, but "reminded" me that Oprah had done a show on this within the last three months or so, and it really wasn't breaking news. But what floors me here are the women I know, or whose blogs I read regularly, who are in this position, but whose husbands/partners don't have enough sex with them. My very good friend S periodically complains about this, Jane Not Plain does as well, Tess has been public about her need to go outside her marriage, Slut No Bounds has done the same and is open and honest about it with her husband. It's such a surprising revelation for me...I thought all men were eternally in quest of more sex.
Everybody checks out everybody else in the gym during workouts on the treadmill, the stairmaster, various machines...men check out men, women check out women, men check out women, women check out men, everybody checks themself out...you get the picture. This morning I had a 30 something woman next to me wearing gray spandex tights. She had a great butt, but for the life of me I couldn't see any panty line...either she wasn't wearing any underwear or she was wearing a thong. The image of a thin piece of fabric nestled deep within her cheeks was more than I could deal with, and so I sort of burst out laughing, and she gave me that New York frown/face scrunch. I so don't understand women's underwear...I love the thong look as much as anyone, but it would seem that wearing one in the gym would be sooo uncomfortable. Perhaps someone could enlighten me.....
See Kristin Scott Thomas in the movie I've Loved You So Long...if it comes to your neighborhood...heartrending, gut wrenching, brilliantly acted by all the players, reminiscent of French films in the '60s and '70s...yes it will be just as good on dvd.
Earwig-LHR-Poppity Pop
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