Monday, August 13, 2012

Penises and the Immaculate Conception

So, I have a few minutes to remember back to some early ideas that I had regarding sex.  I guess I have been thinking of this because my 10 year old is so desperate to grow up without having any idea what it means to be a woman.  She wonders why you have to have a man to have a baby, but hasn't asked out right,  and wonders how I share a room with her dad when "you know, you have like boy and girl parts." She's 10 and still believes in Santa and the Easter Bunny and elves for Christ's sake.  Of course, I may believe in fairies, or something, who knows.

Anyhow, I was maybe 5 when I found out all about sex.  I asked my mom where babies came from, and she explained that they grew in a woman's "belly".  Apparently I then asked how babies ended up in the belly, so mom found a book and gave me the WHOLE freaking story.  This led to a many years long fascination with penises - how on earth did they fit in a woman when they just dangled there?  I spent many days staring at my Ken doll's anatomy not fully understanding how it all worked, even though I knew slot a went into receptacle b.  That I guess ended when I finally had the "opportunity" to see/touch penises.  Now, they're just gross dangly things that men are way to obsessed with.  Cool at first, but once you've seen a few, well....

Pregnancy - guess mom explained how it happened, but she did it in a very Catholic way.  A husband and a wife - no exceptions.  Which leads us to a tv show that no one would expect to cause nightmares in young-ish children:  Highway to Heaven.  It was a show staring Michael Landon (Pa on Little House) as an angel that helped people on earth (or something like that... I can't remember much).  There was an episode that involved a woman going home to see her dad.  He had disowned her when she became pregnant but WASN'T MARRIED.  I couldn't possibly understand how this was possible, and questioned mom about it - most likely more than once.   You can't get pregnant when you're not married can you?  How? How?  Mom - she of the oh too much information for a 5 year old told the slightly older me (maybe 8 or 9?) that "sometimes it just happens."  Translation to my fragile mind:  you may wake up pregnant though no fault of your own someday.  If you're not married, you'll be disowned.  I lived in fear for far too many years that this very scenario would happen to me.

God I was gullible!

   

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

It's 2:48pm and I've just settled down to drink some vodka and work a little.  I'm waiting for the pet stain remover to settle in to my daughter's carpet so that I can clean up the vomit and trachea bits from her room.  Oddly, I had poured the drink before my children returned home with friends and screamed that there was a hairball in the bedroom.

Why am I drinking?  To get just tipsy enough to feel ridiculously happy for a bit before I down tons of coffee and water to sober up and cook dinner etc.  I'm waiting for a phone call from a friend who has it far worse than me - but seriously, do you ever just think - how in the hell did I end up like this?  I'm not yet 40, but I have aching hips, wear a back brace whenever no one is around because my back aches all the time.  I have no energy, I have not one but two jobs that I hate and two that I love but don't get to do enough of (but I'm not sure I could do more because of those two jobs I hate).  and yeah.  I like my life, but I wonder what I did so wrong.  I had potential.

Let's go back to when I was 11 or so - I was a very smart kid.  I studied hard, I spent time with my friends, and exhibited a frightening tendency for excess - just with food at that time, but I was somewhat social.  Well, let's be honest, I was a nerd.  I took pride in being smarter and better behaved than all my friends, and never ever did I pass up a chance to talk Star Trek!!!! all the time to anyone and everyone, sharing the trivia,  thoughts and breakdowns of episodes with anyone foolish enough to bring Star Trek up.

Um, drink kicked in, time to ride the wave, or whateve rthe fuck you want to call it.  I feel nice and content a tthe omeent