And like a fine wine (which I do not drink) paired with a perfectly glazed Creme Brûlée (that I don’t eat) it sent me to the heights of Ecstasy (haven’t had a tab since ’96.) After the act, my husband buys himself some serious points; walking the dogs becomes “my pleasure,” home cooked food materializes in front of him and sure he can check emails on a Saturday, of course! I suddenly start referring to our first dates together, quoting long-ago forgotten corny inside jokes, and dusting off sentimental wedding frames. Sadly its turns out that I love my husband conditionally. If he could never have sex with me again, while I would always love him, I would be forced to go Elsewhere.
Here’s the thing – I’m insatiable.
And I’m not talking about sexual appetite here, I’m talking about need for affirmation/attention/worship that the acts surrounding sex (if you’re lucky) entail. I don’t think I’m completely like other women, but I do know plenty of women like me. Sex with one man is enough for them, but attention from one man is not. Why would G-d have invented the mini-skirt if there weren’t girls who liked being looked at? Are we still pretending that women wear mini-skirts for each other? Unless of course they’re lesbians, and sometimes when I see a girl in a short dress I am one.
Here’s the bizarre thing about living in Malibu – forget eye candy, the entire zip-code is a smorgasbord of hotness. On weekdays, the locals swan around (most of them a size 6 or lower) the men in casual clothing as contemplated as you can be without actually being a homosexual in the fashion industry. I came to maturation in Australia, and while there were lots of cute guys, we are talking about Los Angeles here, where every cutest girl/boy/valedictorian is out here trying to make it. It’s like a sexual buffet. People don’t age normally out here, and while that has its ridiculous aspects, it is also inspiring. Sure some of us sell our souls to the devil, so?
On weekends it’s the tourists, and that’s a whole other post, but amongst the L.A. young people, you will see a 98% perfect ab ratio per capita. If you are plain or overweight, you do not hang out at the beach in Malibu on weekends, you’re probably in the house, studying something that will doubtless help humanity one day, and render these erstwhile hotties as your employees. I’m not suggesting that you can’t be beautiful, smart and accomplished, but working on your physique takes a lot of time away from pursuits that are not totally about the self. I doubt Marie Pasteur invented Penicillin while she was working on her tan.
Today after yoga (spare me the ridicule, I’m aware that I’m a walking cliche) I went to my local juice/smoothie place and it struck me how many unusually good-looking people I am surrounded by on a daily basis, and the fact that if I were some kind of crazy sex addict (as opposed to a crazy love/intrigue/romantic fantasy addict) I would be rubbing one out in the Prius every few minutes. So I started taking pictures of all of the beautiful people, with their permission of course, just so you know what we’re dealing with here…
Exhibits A and B:
And just to keep it equal opportunity:
Exhibits C and D:
And in case you think the moms are slouches- check out this gorgeous woman, with a child who has clearly won the genetic lottery…
I’m. Just. Saying. Temptation abounds and yet. I don’t eat sugar anymore because I didn’t like the way it made me feel, I don’t drink alcohol because my personality became even more insufferable and the one of the greatest highs I get (besides getting laid) is from you: when you are moved or amused by something I write. It turns out that it is not that difficult to resist temptation, when you are an (alleged) adult, but I did spend over three hours chatting with these people (and others) which made it impossible to write. Try as I might, I cannot fucking stop talking!
I got home and the kids were watching a movie, a classic that I’ve seen hundreds of times – Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but it was fun watching them see it for the first time. And it reminded me yet again that while there may be tasty and exotic candy everywhere, nothing good ever happens for the greedy children…