Suzanne Portnoy

My new podcast is up where you can listen to me talk about drinking and sex with my friend Tania Glyde.  Have a lovely weekend.  I’m off to the gym in my boxing shorts and sleeveless T.  Has summer finally arrived?

Yesterday, I did two interviews. One was with a Polish journalist and the other was with an Italian journalist. Both were so painful that I would rather have had my son hum Kanye West songs in my ears for two hours than have to go through them again. If I’d known or indeed thought about the fact that both women came from Catholic countries, I probably would have changed my tact but sometimes I’m not very bright. I won’t bore you with the details, the really boring details, but will instead give you a flavour of the sort of questions I was asked.

‘So,’ said the Polish journalist (40, single, attractive, wearing a diamond studded rock ‘n roll belt and jeans) . ‘Why sex?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t understand the question.’

‘Why do you have to have sex?’

At this point I was really stumped. It was the morning. I wasn’t really fully awake. ‘Because it’s fun. Because it gives me pleasure. Because I enjoy it. Because it keeps me healthy. Because it makes me feel beautiful.’

‘But….,’ she said. ‘Without the love. Do you think you are soulless?’

‘Do I look soulless to you?’ I said.

‘But maybe you are a good actress,’ she smiled.

Later on I told my son about the interview. ‘Did you punch her?’ he said.

‘No,’ I said. ‘She’s a journalist. You can’t punch a journalist.’

‘You should have punched her,’ he said.

Later on she asked me some questions about my religious beliefs and I told her about my recent trips to the synagogue.

‘But,’ she said. ‘The Jews. They are not very nice to the women.’

‘Sorry,’ I said again. ‘What do you mean?’ (There was alot of that going on during the interview)

‘Well,’ she said. ‘They put them in a separate place and they don’t involve them.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That’s Orthodox Jewry. I’m a Liberal Jew. Our rabbi is a woman. We all sit together. It’s very inclusive.’

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘I never heard of this. What is it called again?’

‘Liberal,’ I said. ‘L-I-B-E-R-A-L.’

And so it went. On and on and on. Me having to juistify every aspect of my life. It was very tiring.

And I thought about Kim Cattrell who has come back to join the Sex & the City girls for the movie version of the show that opens today or tomorrow. Kim Cattrell, sexy, forty-something, likes to sleep with younger men (in the show). I thought about her, out there, living it large, wearing great shoes. Noone seems to give her any grief. Has anyone asked Kim Cattrell why she likes sex? I can’t recall any interview where anyone asks Kim Cattrell if she has a soul or her religious beliefs. Noone asks Kim Cattrell what her parents make of her or if her friends know about her lifestyle or indeed any of the multitude of completely inane questions that I was asked yesterday and could have been gleaned from reading any other interview I’ve ever done.

Yes, I thought about Kim Cattrell yesterday and then I thought about me and then I thought about my son.

He was probably right. I should have punched her.