Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Friday, September 16, 2005

14 September - pre las vagueness

May have to take a break from posting as will be in sunny San Francisco and vague Las Vegas from Saturday. Don't expect to have many tales from san fran where the boys are all gay but may have some from Vagueness where they are technically all losers or winners...It's a week's long celebration of Molly's b'day, who turned 40 recently, the babygirl! The rest of the crew is mixed younger/older all women. At different ends of the spectrum. One apparently will not leave the slot machines and one doesn't eat/drink anything with sugar so goodbye cocktails and is going to do yoga in her/my room. True to my naughty nature, and as am reading Motley Crue's autobiography - sorry guys i can't do those funny dots on top of the o and the u - I have partly set up some possible meetings with other visitors or locals. It helps that I can give as my address The Bellagio, it sort of spells top end classy if you can indeed aspire to that in Vegas. Personally, most of all am looking forward to meeting a new horse who will happily carry me along some dusty desert trail. Not that I expect to find a new trail indeed, all very touristy I presume. What else is there. 's kind of funny as am reading a novel set in modern day Shanghai. I like books for that. You're in one place and living the life in another. Not a satisfying book at all Shangai Baby some sort of controversial book for them over there. One of those where my mind keeps a running commentary about what I read and it's mostly negative criticism of the 'oh really? or you would say that' type. The odd nice line though and for those few ones I'm jealous. In a way it's dead easy to be controversial and mediatique. You just write about whatever the local taboos are and hey presto.

11 September - no sex we're in tents

Happy to report old age is far from setting in.
Sat afternoon and we set off for a party in a country home. My car contains me, Len 51, Camilla 29, Kate 25. other car has Hel 31, Damian something like that, Matt, 44. Other car has Steve 47 and Fred (no idea but I’d say same?)
We arrive at 8pm , to the hollering of ‘champagne’ as we each deposit the required entry bottle. We admire each other’s outfits (invite said to dress up flamboyantly, most people did) , then we sensibly go pitch our tents in the grounds (and this is age I think, 20 years ago we’d have thought we’d do it later when we finally need refuge), then back to the party and djs. At 4.30 yours truly called it a day but deliberately. I could have gone on longer but why? The only man I fancied there was married so best to quit before I found myself inexorably drawn to dance next to him one more time. The others walked back at 6ish. Nobody staggered, nobody was out of order despite copious amounts of ….
No sex, we are in tents, that would be soooo inconsiderate. Next morning car 2 left at 9.30, car 1 and 3 at 1pm, got back to London, deposited the youngsters at home they wanted to curl up on the sofa /tv, whilst myself and the uber 40’s went for a shower then to a gatropub for lunch and 2 bottles of wine and bloody marys. Still making perfect sense, reading the papers, talking property in france and Europe, no mention of Ahes thank god and. I got home at 7pm and watched tv. 2 of the uber 40’s, were on the phone making plans for the rest of the evening. I should also point out that both had a b’day on the Friday and so were out the night before as well.
Steve doubles up as a builder, so he’s fit. Len broke a shoulder snowboarding last year but swim and cycle and manipulation seems to have sorted it. I dabble in bikram yoga, riding, dancing, cycling and jogging. Apart from some legs muscle fatigue, I could have gone on…
When it comes, I shall wrestle that menopause and kill it stone dead before it changes any of this

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

8 September - a frame

Drink with a well known 80’s troubadour I had some work dealings with in the 90’s . His soft Scottish accent and delicate guitar parts always got to me. We catch up. ‘s not easy. The last drink was 3 years back. When he split up from the long term girlfriend, perfect stylist now fashion editor of a top selling magazine he fell into the arms of a cockernee girl called Hannah. Sounds like the fell in love with the accent battles their voices made and her spunky attitude. They parted because it was too explosive. Lots of ‘get out of the car now’ type moments. So he’s learnt to drive finally, he’s over 40 for sure. Later as I apologise for a very bad three-point turn he tells me he’s impressed as he’s a novice. At dinner, a big smile spread over his face as he told me how he’d never had that intensity before – not the 3-point turn, but the dramatic cockernee. Once again I reflect on the fact that it sounds as if the sex suddenly got fantastic. People are like on drugs when they have those kind of experiences ‘You mean I didn’t get so high for all those years? Jesus I’ve been robbed!’ He got a dog now too. I promise to buy it a diamond collar if I win at the Bellagio in Vegas next week. The last album was all sad split up songs. I told him I had been worried about him, was he eating enough etc and he had to remind me, miss fiction, that he writes them like that but that don’t mean it’s happening to him. No one buys happy songs do they? Aaahhhh! Yes, well reminded. We go and see ‘Me, You and Everyone We Know’ which we like. There’s a trailer for Pride and Prejudice and the says he doesn’t get Keira Knightly and pouty lips, doesn’t get Angelina. I offer that I don’t get Brad. Later he asks me if I’ve ever read Michel Houellebeq. Have I just! Only my favourite French writer! Lovely bonding moment. If we fancied each other, that would be a good start but…. we leave it as it is. See you in a couple of years?

Thursday, September 08, 2005

7 September - craigslist

Craigslist - don’t ask. Everyone has to have an outlet. I hate chatrooms - never been in one and I hate instant messaging, but I like reading the postings on this site, just to remember what it’s like whether you’re in love or not. I laugh at the bad spelling in the not so incoherent messages. Basically everyone wants pussy. That’s the gist of it. I don’t think they necessarily expect to get it but the basic asking openly, though anonymously, is the outlet. The amount of men who are ‘happily married/in a relationship but you know, I’d like some NSA with a woman that turns up a few afternoons a week and lets me fuck her’ is astounding. Yes sure, and I’d like someone to whisk me off to the Bahamas and gift me a yacht. Go find a professional! I say. I know she costs money, but in what universe do they hope to find this great bargain/deal, the something for NOTHING fuck? Men.. I tell you. Stupido. The women are not much better unfortunately. True to cliche' they are looking for a sugar daddy or a sugar toyboy.
Am sure some postings are in fact by 15 year olds just expressing themselves, were you to arrange a meeting they’d die. Or guys who never have the chance to talk like this to a real woman. I once arranged a meeting with someone who was not that attractive. Deliberately. I had been talking to a gay friend and envying their ability to disconnect the penis from his owner, ie if the penis is ‘right’ never mind if the guy is the hunchback of Notre Dame. I told my mystery date he could do anything he wanted. You’ve never seen anyone lose their e rection so fast. Basically the fantasy was too much as a real/up for it woman in his hotel room. Actually this happened another time with someone else and a third time the man sort of recouped/performed but was clearly not able to go on another time. Again… it was too real. They should stick to the hotel porn channel. I imagine that guy is still banging his head on the wall at the missed opportunity... there she was, she said you can do anything you want. Magic.
Actually I’ve made all of this up. No I haven’t. Yes I have.
Anyway, as I was reading on on Craigslist, two that caught my attention were one looking to worship someone’s perfectly formed and groomed feet and another who had a terrific picture of himself wearing/not wearing fatigues and wanting some serious can ing. Unfortunately, though my feet are groomed, they’ll be far from making anyone swoon (age is beginning to nicely deform them and there’s nothing I can do) and in the second scenario, I am unfortunately not a man and thus able to cane this guy by remaining fully clothed but having my p enis pulled out through the zip of my trousers (his specific request). Needless to say I really wanted to reply to these guys thus proving a quantum theory of how my head operates. Even in the casuals I was looking for the unavailable/unable to commit guy!!! Can you believe it. A plethora of ads/requests/offers and I focus on the two guys who don’t want me. Though to be honest, the feet guy am sure doesn’t receive that many replies (not any that don’t ask for payment I guess) and so if I turned up, would he not go through with it? Must ask if he appreciates shoes as well as the feet. As for my reasons, it’s because I know I like my feet sucked, my arch played with but it’s almost a long forgotten art and no one does it. Guess back in the last century or something when you didn’t have much access to other parts of the anatomy, the foot was a little metaphor to show a lady what you could do to her but now... the race is usually on, who wants to slow down for that.
I was also tempted to reply to a 57 year old ex gynaecologist (do I believe this? Perhaps. It would be easy to establish) who promised to just get to your G spot manually and not require any reciprocation. Figured for once would be nice not to have to do anything at all. Am not that submissive though, hence the caning. The guy looked like he could take it and if he takes it from a man usually (heavier stroke I presume) I could really let go. There was also a bored novelist from my part of London. I nearly replied to say ‘Cal, is that you?’ (an ex Professor) but he wanted afternoon sessions so no can do. Probably also married. I never tell my married girlfriends about these ads. They’d be horrified and probably start recognising their husbands and well, I’d do it very much like in the movies/Tv films. Turn up at work or home etc at odd times. Never let them know they can count on your routine absence. ‘Honey where’s Junior, didn’t you pick him up from school?’ ‘Oh no, just thought I’d surprise you darling’ etc. I’m not of the ‘I don’t want to know’ school. And also of the ‘you don’t marry who you can live with but the one you cannot live without’ school.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

6 September - post men o pause will be great

Just what I need on a day when my libido is inexplicably low. Proof of this is that at the w/e I turned down a prospective new lover two days in a row, still haven’t called him. I know it happens but I still don’t like it. Thankfully some survey in the Independent says that women over 40 are having more sex and enjoy it more than ever. Hurrah! I belong, there’s a peer group for me. That’s normally my state of mind/play so today will pass. Though last Sunday I was telling a friend that cycling 6 or 8 miles to Portobello Rd and back was good for me on my period as exercise lessens the pain and the fewer painkillers I have to take, the better for me. She said ‘Periods? What are those?’ She’s 53 and was on her way later to a swim and I thought yes, would be great if they disappeared altogether but very worried if desire also goes. She says it’s liberating not to have to think about ‘that’. I like my waves of ups and downs dictated by menstruation patterns. I become incredibly perceptive in those two or three days with a corresponding decrease of attention though, leading to all sorts of clumsiness. Everything is clear: the path to follow, the things to drop as they are wastes of time etc and the big questions get asked and the house gets thoroughly cleaned and tidied, you know those bursts of manic energy, but… if all of this goes when will I manage at least a few hours of introspection? Will my rampant narcissism take over? Sample thought of the day as I will be travelling to Las Vegas in a week or so…’Must have new photo taken for my work pass as otherwise, if anything happens, some hurricane blows away the silly city or some such, the missing or dead photo they’ll use for me is what I currently have which is not dissimilar to a mug shot of a Red Brigade terrorist.’ - How’s that for a nod to the 70’s so called ‘Years of Lead’ in Italy/Germany? Makes a change from today’s brand of terrorists – those were mostly affluent middle class uni kids. So there you go, worrying about appearances as usual. Or libido or lack of such. Then again, I forgot that at the Iggy concert, during a song aptly called ‘Dirt’ – sample lyric “How do you feel when you fuck me” – I had a very enjoyable interlude with Paul’s hand down the front of my skirt. Though a degree of modesty prevented me from turning around and reciprocating. Noone would have noticed but still. I guess I have to accept that lows follow highs and vice versa. Is this one of my most incoherent entries? I honestly cannot face editing it.
ps. I berate myself for the vanity thing but... I've never had any cosmetic surgery and neither have I ever purchased some ridiculously priced pot of creme de la mer or similar - my conscience vis a vis the dispossessed of the earth would not let me even if I had the money - so am going to be kinder to myself.

2 September - spooning

What’s missing when you don’t have a partner? I think have distilled it down to something very simple. Spooning. I sleep well and soundly so I can usually fall asleep in five minutes unless rare occasions where a degree of anxiety has crept in about something or consumption of alcohol or other is keeping me awake. I love my bed. I love my pillows. I love sleeping. What I miss is just that, spooning, night in night out. I get better sex when it’s not regular - must be a reason why long term boyfriends only happen every couple of years and don’t last more than that. I just like the excitement and no matter how many talking heads I’ve heard on documentaries saying ‘What matters the most is compatibility etc as after a few years passion dies/changes and all that jumping each other’s bones goes out of the window (or either or both partners go and jump someone else even though they remain married), I just don’t buy it. What matters most is chemistry. And I think it’s more honest to keep your sex life interesting whilst avoiding cheating. Thing is you can buy or rent anything but not a spooning partner. Though have never advertised for one and maybe I’ll investigate that now.