The afternoon turns into one of those dreamy, lazy, nothing-to-do-but-hang-may-as-well-have-a-drink kind of afternoons. Except for Jackie. She was out for a long run.
What?
The rest of us retired to the pool. The gated one with the hot tub. We have magazines and books and snacks and lots to dish about. Again, one of my favorite features of this kind of trip.
Candy is doing research on pop culture and needs to dig in to a book which asks women to determine whether they are a Marilyn (as in Monroe) or a Jackie (as in Kennedy Onassis). Both seem pretty tragic. I would venture to guess I am more Jamie Lee Curtis than either one of these two. No costumes. No flagrant misbehaving. No famous trademark. No flamboyant family. No outrageous backstory. (OK that weird androgyny urban legend thing notwithstanding.) But any day of the week that beats being Amy Winehouse, Anna Nicole Smith, Hilary Clinton, Camilla Parker Bowles, Eva Longoria Parker, or Madonna. Or anyone in Mel Gibson’s life.
But evidently I am reading too deeply into this vacuous little book. It is more about looks and approach than attitude and soul. So the question really is “Are you a hot mess or a style icon?” After responding to a few not-so-probing questions, we decide that none of us are decidedly either and turn our attention to the Cosmopolitan Magazine offering to enlighten us about men’s “hot spots” or more plainly, parts of their bodies that men universally enjoy having touched and why.
Don’t we all know why? And doesn’t it suffice to say that almost any touching at all is pretty much appreciated, even if only just a potential gateway drug to the Big Show?
But we read on anyway. And this is where you really begin to know who your girlfriends are. Because there as you are all sitting nearly nude in a hot tub or beach chairs with no other distractions and nowhere to hide, is when all the deepest, most tightly held, most private secrets, questions, insecurities and ideas all come out to play.
Whose quiet demeanor belies an adventurous little firecracker with an extraordinary repertoire?
Who is willing but a little anxious to try what, because they aren’t quite sure of the physics involved.
What does he think when you do X, Y or Z? Has anyone asked him?
Whose husband/partner keeps making a special request and promises jewelry in return for a particular thing that one friend is not entirely game to attempt, and another friend may have had the same reservation about but has gotten over it.
Descriptions of a failed mission that needs to be attempted again and how to capitalize on the do-over.
Things we’ve learned through years of laughable trial and error. And sometimes injury.
What thing got what surprising reaction and might be worth the other gals giving a whirl when they get home from the trip.
Who has become a little insecure about what act/body part/bodily function/feature of middle age and needs a little reassurance from someone who will never mislead her and will give her only honesty, no matter what.
Hints from Heloise type advice on what to do when things are out of sync and need to get back in alignment in a hurry.
In short, stuff your mother never told you, but your girlfriends always will.
Monday, December 27, 2010
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