Saturday, December 18, 2004

mommy making love (or fucking if you prefer)

to clarify an earlier post (and thank you to everyone who responded), my mother has not handed over her diary of sexual exploits (although, if she had, i would read it voraciously). my mother asserted her prudery throughout my youth ("jane marie... *gasp and shaking head in bewilderment*). she never had sex before marriage, never did drugs, obeyed her parents and felt horribly guilty whenever she crossed an established line. bullshit! talking with my aunt, my mother rode a statue of a bull in the middle of a fountain central to her college campus, naked and on acid her sophomore year (and at the time, she had already been dating my dad for two years as they met at 18 and married at 21 so don't write off your mom's possible adventures, michael).

but my favorite cracking of the mask came during a week we spent together in europe tagging along on one of my father's business trips. i had just turned 18 and was heading off to new york in the fall. they decided i needed to learn to drink (as i was going to college). so they (or just my mom on the many evenings my dad had business dinners/meetings/etc) would take me bar hopping each night, having me sample three to five different drinks, in search of one i actually liked (i disliked the taste and abhorred the smell of alcohol). what usually happened, though, was i would order drinks, take a sip, decided i didn't like it, and pass it on to my mom (who had also ordered drinks of her own).

one night in brussels, she and i went to dinner at a fancy restaurant she and my father referred to as "the lobster man". we ordered a bottle of wine with dinner. i didn't like it. she drank the whole bottle. in less than two hours. when the check had come, i began the task of weaving her back through the cobbled streets to our hotel. at one stumble, she leaned against me and spoke this sage wisdom:

"janie, you know what you need to do? you need to go to new york. find a guy. preferably somewhere NEAR your age. and you need to just screw around."

needless to say, i have since taken that advice to heart, although ignoring the gender and age requirements.

back to the memoirs. the other morning, while knitting on the subway, defrosting from the cold, i came to the realization that this is most likely my last winter in new york. the end of a rather intense chapter. one that i do not want to loose to alzheimers or prudery. for new years, i want to compile memoirs of the last five years (stories of the blackout, anthrax, subway stalkers, sex parties, sept 11, living on $8/week, sex museums and sex ed). i have whispered my desire for a digital camera to santa (not for dirty pictures or anything...) so could use it to photograph important landmarks and people. then print out and bind five copies or something for kid, grandkid, and privileged nieces and nephews. this would include juicy bits of my sexual exploits, including prostitution, as it has made a substantial contribution to my new york experience.

so, to rephrase the question, if i was your mommy, would you want to know?

6 Comments:

Blogger Dacia said...

Yes, I would want to know.

And I would want to know about my mom, too.

And I want to know more about my dad, though he has been pretty open, as several of his stories start with "One time I was at a party with Jackson Pollock and some whores..."

12/18/2004 3:07 PM  
Blogger Librarian Babe said...

My parents are boring as hell. But I would love to hear about your tales! I'll even call you Mommy if that's what you're after. ;-) (joke)

12/18/2004 5:12 PM  
Blogger Jefferson said...

Heck yeah, I'd want to know. I wonder how I will share mine with my children.

Among family members, the first sex diary I would open would be that of my great uncle. I knew him as a child. My family has a photo of him doing a drag show in Alabama in the mid 1920s, and looking very hot as a flapper.

I assumed I was a freak as a bisexual in the South as a kid. How cool that he faced worse decades earlier and still got his kicks as a gay man.

12/18/2004 10:37 PM  
Blogger Jefferson said...

Heck yeah, I'd want to know. I wonder how I will share mine with my children.

Among family members, the first sex diary I would open would be that of my great uncle. I knew him as a child. My family has a photo of him doing a drag show in Alabama in the mid 1920s, and looking very hot as a flapper.

I assumed I was a freak as a bisexual in the South as a kid. How cool that he faced worse decades earlier and still got his kicks as a gay man.

12/18/2004 10:38 PM  
Blogger Michael said...

If you were my mommy, I'd be even more sexually confused than I am now.

But seriously, folks: I suppose I might at some point, but probably not untila fter I'd sown my own wild oats.

Oh, and if you get that digital cam, I may have you shoot something for me. Fair warning.

12/18/2004 10:51 PM  
Blogger Algor Langeaux said...

I would want to know, because I would love to know that my mother was human and made mistakes and grew, and understand the process of transformation from the person that they were "expected" to be to the person that they actually *wanted* to be... I think it would lead to surprisingly un-fucked up kids who are well adjusted and not oriented towards being sheep...

12/20/2004 8:44 AM  

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