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

Thursday, August 19, 2010

14 August - S & P - partial

from now on anything that says 'partial' means that I haven't finished writing it but that if I sit on it forever, you'll think this blog is defunct so am publishing and later on will amend.

Somewhere by Harrods we've gone to meet S. who is in town with the second woman with whom he's having a baby and has announced it this time by forwarding an article from the New Yorker about said woman (a docu director, daughter of famous american lawyer). He has a habit of doing this (I should link to the post a couple of years or is it 3 ago when at xmas we were introduced to the mother of first child, that was never a relationship but this one is).

The thing is that at some point at dinner he says to me that his mother is finding it very hard to come round the idea (of new relationship/new baby). I said well, would she find it so hard if you got married? He says I don't want to get married for my mother. Fair enough, though am sure that mother (and father) fund him to a high degree since his own oeuvre has not made him any money I'm sure. But then he mentions that his grandma gave him an engagement ring to give to the one and he can't just give it to anyone. It has to be right. That sort of sentiment. I think I looked up to lovely E. with the 6 months bump and thought 'Oh... if it’s not good enough for current soon to be mother of his second child (not to be confused with babymother #1) you have to wonder what does this guy feel heart wise. But I didn't say. Have to say though that I had noticed that apart from showing courtesy and proection to her, he hadn't made any gestures that spelt 'We're in love'. Granted, they were off a plane from NY that morning but still... Where's a bit of jubilation? Especially as he told me he'd met her a few years ago when her mother had held a fundraiser for him and wanted to go out with her but she was with someone else and now .. tara'! she was free to be his.

M. the laywer and hubby D the musician. She is a force of nature, my god! the work she's done prosecuting war criminals, puts me too shame. I don't right any wrongs. They were very well matched to meet E. as could talk about defending the undefendables. D. and I instead discovered some mutual music past figures and we were off. Who names their kid Sheherezade though? Would she be Shazza at school? or Shezzie?

Next evening was for a b'day. P. who's been out with various g/friends drinking all afternoon turned them into Francis Bacon figures. That may be too unkind but drink will make you ugly past the age of 40. As in obscene ugly, your face just deforms and blotches up. Being fat and boringly dressed doesn’t help either.

Toph waking up thinking I don’t want to spend time anymore with people I don’t like and you have to say but we didn’t know it would turn into a diatribe over tapas re. the muslims outside Regent's Park's mosque with N. the shrieking J. american going blah blah ‘I speak Hebrew and so I understand Arabic and I know they were dissing me'. They may well have been but you know, move a hundred yards, the park is quite large.

Poor N. got the brunt of it (friend of Toph, single, stunningly handsome, clearly thinking who are these harpies?) who grew up in a commune and his father died at 30 when N. was 5 of a heart attack due to cocaine abuse! Mother was with someone else for a while who left her to have baby with younger woman eventually. Whenever I hear this plot, I instantly get mad, mad, mad. I hate men for it. I have always hated men for it. E. from the night before, her father had done similar thing, left family #1 when he was nearly 60 and had E. and sister S. with a 30 year old he'd got to know whilst working with her. By all accounts a happy second family but what about the first wife. Women can't just frikking go out get a young stud and start again when they've been left in their dishrag years. I hate nature. I want it reversed, I want the shoe on the other foot. If Toph ever dares do this to me he'll be dead and I'll be in prison. Like you often read these stories of madness but each to their own boiling points. I swear to god. He'd (unfortunately) be punished for all the other assholes who simply switch life midway and get fresh pussy when old women simply can't get fresh cock.

J. and her food weirdness, has to be cubed and from M&S meals! I didn't know so kept proffering my patatas bravas, my pimientos del padron and saying 'But you're not eating anything, please take some'. No wonder she’s fat with all the butter/salt/sugar in ready meals and she eats alone. Clearly it's an illness so I have to understand but it seems to me that psychosomatic illnessess can be cured perhaps by some good therapy, some hypnosis and off you go. Why let food ruin your life to this extent?


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