I had a sneaking suspicion that the word, “glisse,” does not exist in English, so I Googled it, and it does not. “Glisser,” means to glide, in the language of Shakespeare. In French, the term, “sport de glisse,” englobes all sports where you slide. Skiing, skateboarding, wind surfing. You get the picture. This word came to mind while I was trying to process my new life in my old brain. In this extremely sensorial new life of mine, I see myself as a spoiled child at an amusement park.
I love funnel cakes and candy apples, I can drink gallons of any carbonated beverage without feeling ill. You can invite me on the most terrifying rides…I’m game. I especially enjoy roller coasters, how you painfully chug up that big-ass hill, fear seizing your soul. You close your eyes as you arrive at the crest and whooosh! That is how I have been doing things lately. Repeating this sensory overload…a sort of all-you-can-eat buffet, 100 roller coaster rides in a row. I get off, my legs are wobbly and my crossed eyes search frantically for balance on the horizon. I feel a bit nauseous, yet when someone says, “Again?” I accept the offer, more or less enthusiastically.
The sweet words of a cyber-stranger are really the reason for my mental processing. Then again I am processing all the time but his words made me really think. We write to each other on my “Sleeping With Strangers,” website where I have a very short introduction about myself, which is odd really because I am the Queen of Ramblers, run-on-sentences, of vague ideas going nowhere.
This minimalist presentation says something like, “I am searching for someone with a strong appetite to fill my free moments,” brief and to the point, not much like me, but when you throw yourself into a new life, you can’t continue dragging around the babbling person you have been up until that point. When I wrote those words, I didn’t really mean one person. I think I meant, “Bring it on!” and much to my surprise, despite my age, (I see no use in lying about that) and also the fact that I posted no photos of myself there, I now realize that if I really wanted to, I could be having sex on a daily basis. Even more than a daily basis. Which I guess is true for most anyone who is physically capable. Somehow it comes as a huge surprise to me. I guess I never realized my sexual potential. I have never felt wanted. I am reassured by all of this because I have already managed to come up with no career, although I had everything necessary to succeed in this life. If it was really too late to capture a thrilling sex-life, I think the sadness of it all would knock me out for good.
So far I have received around 180 messages, and only one person saw through my inadequate cover. I have even managed to fool myself for a while.
Even those who love roller coaster rides eventually yearn for the Ferris wheel.