Last night, Glamour Magazine hosted an event at Joe's Pub in New York City called These Girls, featuring a slew of monologues presented by various women. Among the ladies presenting was the perpetually pleasant-seeming Olivia Wilde who performed a piece dealing with her divorce from her husband of 8 years. Wilde said, "I felt like my vagina died. Turned off. Lights out ... And you can lie to your relatives at Christmas dinner and tell them everything on the home front is just peachy. But you cannot lie to your vagina."
Here, here. The vagina is like the polygraph machine of the body: twitchy, stressful and inadmissible in a court of law.
Wilde, whose boyf Jason Sudeikis was in the audience, went on to describe her relationship utopia:
In Olivia Land, relationships can legally only last seven years, without an option to renew. That way it never goes stale. Can you imagine, if we only had seven years? We'd be so nice to each other, so kind, and appreciative and enthusiastic, like we were eating a really expensive bowl of pasta! And in Olivia Land people wouldn't cheat nearly as much because there wouldn't be the threat of spending forever with one bedfellow. It just wouldn't be legal. There's the issue of kids. Okay this is fun.
In Olivia Land, all the kids go to boarding school at seven. It's like in Harry Potter!
I would like to legalize prostitution. Hiring a sex worker in Olivia Land would be as easy, hygienic, and inexpensive as getting a pedicure. That way when away on business or just not in the mood, we could just hire a hooker for our loved one and keep them uninterested in cheating and keep them satisfied. These particular hookers would obviously have to be mute and possibly cross-eyed.
In Olivia Land, the streets are paved with dark chocolate, and all the people are free of body hair and menstrual cramps."
I'm not so sure about this Olivia Land thing, but I am very sure that I want to go out and get drunk with Olivia Wilde.