I haven't seen the Sex and the City movie yet, so don't spoil it for me in the gobs of comments I've been getting lately.
Like some of your sex lives, and often times mine, that first line is a joke. But it doesn't have to be. Did you know, people, that you can leave me a note or email me? It might take a second to sign up for comments on this column, but after that, it's bombs away. Sometimes you have to sign in, exit, and sign back. Why? I don't know. But why do men do what they do half the time? It just works better to accept and keep at it.
For anyone out there who hates my ramblings, leave a note anyway. I thrive on negative criticism, being the product of Catholic school and all.
Back to my original point - which *** Includes a Spoiler on Sex and the City - so skip the next few lines if you're a stickler: I hear is that Carrie's man, Big - who I think is so friggin' sexy - is not so likeable. Okay, coast clear.
Here's what I want to know (and this is where the comments come in... don't fail me, people): What is it about big that is better? Yes, I'm talking about the size of guys' appendages, but I'm also talking about men that are larger than life, whether it be due to lots of money, personality, power, fame or humor. Often times it's plain machismo and huge cockiness (emphasis on the first four letters of that last word) that gets the normally reserved librarian throwing off her glasses in a hormonal frenzy of skyrocketing libido.
As for me, I like big guys as much as the next girl. Especially, given my height. At 6'1, it's hard to feel dainty in the arms of a man that has to lean on my chest to dance. Only once, many moons ago, did I fall in love with a fellow of slighter stature. True of a classic romance movie, we never even kissed. Perhaps the wanting him, which was bigger than any consummated liaison would prove to be, was what drew me to him even more. For what he lacked in height he gained with a huge heart. Generous, gentle with big warm eyes, he naturally ended up with someone else. I haven't seen him in over ten years.
Perhaps, like my beau that never was, my memories are larger due to the pasasge of time. But it's hard to still feel remorse with Rex now in my life. With his size 14 shoes and huge conscience, my husband has the ability to calm me down when I'm freaking out about 3 columns due, a trip to pack for, and a child on antibiotics. Now that's huge.
So tell me, what is it about a big man that does it for you. Or not?
* I'll return many of your comments when I'm home from vacation this weekend.
Posted by Andrea Frazer
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