Regarding chick lit

Sunday afternoon 15 February 2009

This morning we got dressed more conventionally for 2009 and drove down to Beach Haven to attend Communion. Afterwards we had a pleasant drive back up the Island to Barnegat Light, went up the lighthouse and had tea at the cafe near there. Jessy apologised for her self-indulgence last night. 'I don't know what came over me,' she said sheepishly.

I made a laugh. 'Oh, I think I know what came... over you.'

She blushed. 'Well....'

'Be sure to change the sheets before we leave tomorrow,' I said.

She nodded at once. 'Of course.' Then she giggled. 'But... I still have tonight....'

I batted her arm in the car.

We drove off the Island and went to Target, picking up some stuff for our dinner, and then drove down Route 9 to the end of Dock Road which is one of the places Daddy often takes us. There is a boat-launch ramp there and a bit of a playground as well as a very odd, large house made of plain construction plywood finished in fiberglass resin. Daddy has pointed out that this is typical of house-builders round this area who do not understand the properties of fiberglass products. The resin will not stick long to plain plywood, and the sunlight breaks it down. Now it is clear that the plywood is falling apart. I do not know how much this person paid for a house that surely would be 2 million dollars on the Island beachfront, but the house which once made an interesting artistic statement now looks like an expensive and stupid mistake. Anyway we took some pictures of ourselves in front of it.

Back at the house I wanted to get into my Colonial clothes again. Jessy went up stairs first and by the time I came up to the room she was stark naked and enjoying herself on her bed. I do not think she saw me and I just backed out and left her to her reverie. I suppose I should not say this, but I do envy her sometimes. Although she is undeniably brilliant, well-educated, intellectual, and absolutely virtuous, she also has a completely pure, open, innocent view of just about everything, as though she has nothing to hide. Of course she would never do this in front of our parents, nor even J.J., being her sisters little Lisa and I have got an eyeful (and an earful) of her more than we'd care to. In respect to Jessy we just tolerate it. Jessy is only discovering herself in about the healthiest way she ever could. Who are any of us to tell her it's inappropriate?

I know I should not envy her because I can just as easily indulge myself in the same sort of way. But I confess it does not come easily for me. (Maybe that's a bad choice of words!) I too often find something to think about that takes me out of the mood. I have been asked (mostly online, but elsewhere too) what I think about when I'm doing it. Well, I really don't fantasise like that. I mostly think about what it feels like to be doing it, and I'm doing it, so it feels great... and so on.

Maybe it's just me... but I really do not understand why it is such an issue with some people. Maybe it's just an issue with me... I don't know.

Thinking this way put me in the mood for something else. Jessy (when she revived) and I discovered Mother's DVD of 'Bridget Jones' Diary' and we put that in and curled up in a blanket to watch. I was still in my Colonial gear-- somewhat apropos as the film is a deliberate throwback to things like 'Pride and Prejudice' (witness the romantic lead's name, 'Darcy', also the place where she works is called Pemberley, which is Darcy's estate in 'P & P', also consider the whole conflict of the plot that Darcy is the best 'catch' for the heroine but out of her own pride, or prejudice, she spends too much energy hating him first, etc., etc.). We all know 'P & P' is the best chick lit and best chick film in all history. Sadly it was not here at the beach house and 'Diary' would suffice. Jessy had on just her shift and socks and was probably more comfortable than I was in my bodice and stays, etc., but when she started toying with herself again I had to ask her to refrain. I just did not want to be snuggled under the same blanket and have her doing that. Fortunately she understood.

Actually 'Diary' is not very sexy at all and little about it put me into the same sort of mood... so leaving her to prepare a supper for us I went up stairs, got out of most of my gear, and took care of myself... and I didn't let her know.

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