“No matter how much I tried to lie, she broke in. Just that look on her face, staring at me in some smug, amused, slightly sexual way, put the first small crack in my mental image of my life. I didn’t like her. She was rude, brash, and loud. When she walked she stomped, big combat boots or tennis shoes, I could hear her coming down the hallway at work. She was short, too short. And bald. And she smoked. And she stared at me every day like she was having sex with me while I was working. I talked to her at work, and even gave her my phone number. She wanted to have sex with me, and let me know it. I liked it, feeling desired, feeling like I was someone worthy of having. She wanted to take me out for coffee, and didn’t care that I had a girlfriend.”
This is how sex should be explained:
When two or more rocks find each other, and they like something about each other, or are lonely, or bored, or they found some alcohol, they start rubbing together. Eventually this rubbing makes fire, which builds up, then sometimes is messy, and might destroy a home. If they rub too hard or too often, certain kinds of rocks break off and will make baby rocks.
Good rocks remember to wrap themselves in plastic, that way baby rocks won’t be made, and they can be sure that they won’t get sick if the rocks they rub against are sick. Sometimes, some rocks with have something on them, like fungus, or crabs. Then the rocks have to go to the doctor and get medicine. This rock is also a good rock, and tells all the other rocks that it rubbed against what has happened, so the other rocks can make sure they don’t have fungus or crabs too.
Or you could just get over it and be honest with your kids about sex, you know, that way they’re not idiots.
Being sick for over 3 years has made my life somewhat…. sedentary. I have some ideas of things I would like to accomplish, what some might call a bucket list of sorts. Instead I think of it as a list that has options that can be completed daily or over time. This way I feel like I’m accomplishing things constantly, and I still have things to continue to work towards. This is the list I’ve come up with so far, in no particular order:
- Work at the dictionary.
- Start a cult
- Not get an STD
- Eat candy
- Get someone to give me their soul
- Get minions
- Be published in an actual book, preferably my own
- Wear pants
- Keep a non cactus plant alive for 1 year or more
- Grow a vegetable
- Eat dragon fruit
- Try baklava
- See Nickelback again
- Get at least 1 minion
- Ride on a real train (not a public transportation subway type train)
- Have sex (again)
- Astral project
- Have a zombie dinosaur movie dedicated to me (after death)
- Put my hand in one of those dyson fan thingys
It may not seem like a big list, but I have to start somewhere. Plus I didn’t want to get out of control, and put something like “Go to Egypt” on the list, because then when I die I’ll be upset that it didn’t happen. Egypt seems too dangerous lately, especially for white female lesbian Americans. Maybe I’ll astral project there.