The Adventures of a Glamorous Normalphobe
When my first marriage crashed and burned within 6 months, a friend that I once had, told me that she had a feeling that I was going to be married about five times and get richer with every husband.
I was incensed. How could anyone say such a thing? And besides, I have always thought of myself as so very down to earth.
And yet here I am, 15 years after my ex-friend’s prediction, having just wrapped up my second “marriage” – this time a common law union with Mr. Ferrari that lasted for a decade.
And yes, life with Ferrari has been relatively luxurious – private jet travel, 3 multimillion -dollar homes, (the Penthouse, the Ranch, and the Mexican Casa) horses and a wardrobe full of Gucci, Dolce, Prada and my favorite, Lanvin. Yesterday I counted my red Cartier boxes. I have 13. Let’s just say that none of them contained pens or perfume.
But in hindsight, the truth is, I was never destined to have a career as a powerless spouse. I was never destined to play second fiddle. I was living a life without passion, a life without adventure, a life without challenges and without personal accomplishments. I became miserable. I began to develop some kind of paranoia. It’s when you have the perfect life but you spend your days worrying about the things that you have no control over. Or, you can’t enjoy your beautiful multi-million dollar home until you’ve bought out the neighbor or completed yet another massive renovation. That’s messed up shit and you’ve got to get a grip.
When I look at my life so far and particularly at my history with men, I have wondered if I’m just a giant issue-riddled screw up or if I am still that down to earth girl I always thought I was.
After all, my list of past boyfriends, lovers and admirers reads like the roster at a UN convention on Sexuality and the Modern Man:
There have been 2 hot Germans, a Brit on welfare, a bi-sexual American, a French Separatist from Quebec, a few English Canadians, a young Afrikaner, a couple of old guys, an Irish Zimbabwean Gypsy and a Tunisian Arab. And to top it all, at one point I married a gay man with a drug problem and a mental illness. Yes I did.
Naturally I have done some analyzing – wouldn’t you? I have figured out who I am. I am just different. My boat floats very differently to the majority of the sisterhood. I value adventure above security. I have spent my entire life doing everything in my power to avoid being married to a normal guy, having children and a house in the suburbs.
Where have I been for the last ten years? I lost myself and through no fault of Ferrari. God knows, I did love the guy; I am eternally grateful to him and have huge respect for him. It’s just that if you put two attention-seeking, egotistical, emotional screw-ups together for too long, something’s going to blow.
So here in my book excerpt you will read about my foray into the forbidden world of infidelity and how it brought me back to the passionate, fun-loving and slightly off-beat person of my destiny.
You will read about my love affair with a young man twenty years my junior.
You will read about my journey of discovery to becoming successful in my own right while maintaining a spiritual connection. And you will meet the cast of characters that exist currently in my life:
Mr. Ferrari – my ex spouse
Al Dente – Ferrari’s manservant
Zeus, Apollo, Bombshell, Model, Diva, Blondie and Divine – my best friends
Alessi – my designer
Sprint – my young, cute Personal Trainer
Jitsu – my other young, cute Personal Trainer
Clarity – my life coach and emotional guru
Noonoo – my Jack Russell Terrier and the undisputed love of my life
Mr. Bentley – my passionate married lover
And of course Beemer – he is an Arab man, a Muslim; 20 years my junior and I met him in flight school.
Yip, it’s true. Boring it’s not.
Their real names have been changed – in case you were wondering. For the rest, I have written the truth that is my life. Nobody could make this stuff up.