Tales, recipes, and general observations from the unique perspective
of a mother of two kids with an 18 year age gap, and "bonus mom" to an active middle schooler.
Meet Chewie. (He's named after Chewbacca.) Isn't he the cutest?We adopted him from the pound. He was found wandering around the city, he was not tagged or fixed.
I walked into the shelter and he was the first dog that I saw. The minute I saw him I just KNEW I had to take him home. Adopting him was the greatest decision ever. In the last week every person in our house has fallen completely in love with him. Not only does he bring nothing but happiness, we have gotten more exercise, spent more time outdoors, and just generally more family time than we have in ages.
He's so pretty when he runs! I must have walked 20 miles in the last week and have totally enjoyed it. I love how having a dog just gives you a reason to go outside and enjoy the world every day, even if you didn't think you were in the mood. It's so easy to hole up in the house and work on art, watch movies or just generally waste time. Having a dog changes all of that. It is amazing. I've already met and talked to so many of my neighbors that I've walked past since 1997 and never had a reason to talk to. Chewie makes everyone smile with his sweet little face. He is basically a superstar!
Here is Chewie making friends on his 1st visit to the off leash park.
I was thinking about our three exceptional pets this morning. Our two cats and one dog. They were all "throw away" animals.
Buddy I found at the shelter. He had only one whisker and tons of scratches. Now he is an amazing, beautiful, and super lovely kitty. You could not ask for a sweeter lap cat! Moo was literally left out on the street in a box as a tiny kitten. He was terrified of humans. After a lot of work, we got him inside, and now he is the fattest sweetest cat of all time.And now, Chewie. He came home, and to our surprise was not only super well behaved, doesn't bark, doesn't chew things up, but he is also potty trained and gets along fine with the cats!! It amazes me that someone just threw him away. Their loss, our gain. (As I type this, Chewie is sitting on Jon's lap getting lots of hugs and cuddles.)
I took a photo of my Xray to show the adult tooth that I have impacted. I've marked it in the photo. It's just hanging out there. It's very uncommon to still have a baby tooth when you are an adult, but here I am, in braces, waiting to make enough room for this tooth to come down and join the party! Only 1o more months to go! When there is enough room, they will extract the baby tooth and begin pulling that adult tooth down and into place. Right now it is hiding and can only be seen on xrays.
Here's the profile shot, just because it's creepy cool!
I was experimenting with my Wilton Fanci-Fill Cake Pan today. My daughter isn't really a fan of cake because she doesn't like frosting. She thinks it is too sweet. I thought I tried to make a cake sans frosting, but still full of pizazz. I made a basic lemon cake in the Fanci-Fill pan. I filled it with Lemon pie filling and home made whipped cream. I sprinkled confectioners sugar on top and, viola. It's basically a giant, super delicious lemon Twinkie! It is light and yummy with a surprise in the middle! I would add fresh raspberries to the top if I made this again, just to make it more presentable. I think they would taste great with this. I was going to today, but the store was running low and the raspberries that were left looked a tad mushy. I might do this one again when they are in season!
This is what I made for dinner tonight. We have a vegetarian house guest, so I wanted to come up with a new veggie option. It was also a good practice run for the next time our favorite Brit veggies, Mark and Suzy, visit again!
Ingredients
4 carrots, sliced
1 large onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves, crushed
6 cups Vegetable Broth
2 medium zucchini, sliced
4 plum tomatoes, chopped
1 mini can of V8 juice
1 1/2 cups frozen cheese-filled tortellini
1 (15 ounce) can red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
Grated Parmesan cheese
Directions
Place the carrots, onion, celery, garlic, thyme and 3 cups of the broth in a 6-quart sauce pot. Heat to a boil. Reduce the heat to low. Cover and cook for 10 minutes or until the onion is tender.
Add the remaining broth, V-8 juice, zucchini, tomatoes, tortellini and beans. Heat to a boil. Reduce the heat to low. Cover and cook for 15 minutes or until the tortellini is tender. Serve with grated Parmesan cheese.
This is the cake I made this evening using another one of my new Wilton Checkerboard cake pans. (They were a Christmas gift from my Dad & Carol) It is supposed to be a checkerboard cake, but it didn't quite work. It still looks cool, but it is my first try.
I made my favorite whipped buttercream frosting using the new Red KitchenAid I got from my Mom & Warren.
Not perfect, but still pretty awesome and DELICIOUS!
I made this duck for the office holiday party. It's a duck because I wanted to use the new cake pan my Dad sent me for Christmas. It's purple because that is our company color.
I actually cooked down two small pumpkins to make my own puree for this soup. It came out super fresh and delish!
Ingredients
6 cups chicken stock
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
4 cups pumpkin puree
1 teaspoon chopped fresh parsley
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
5 whole black peppercorns
Directions
Heat stock, salt, pumpkin, onion, thyme, garlic, and peppercorns. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 30 minutes uncovered.
Puree the soup in small batches (1 cup at a time) using a food processor or blender.
Return to pan, and bring to a boil again. Reduce heat to low, and simmer for another 30 minutes, uncovered. Stir in heavy cream. Pour into soup bowls and garnish with fresh parsley.
Maybe it is the nippy Fall weather, or the early Christmas decorations in the stores, but I'm really feeling the holiday spirit this year. I decided to get started early and make my first batch of Christmas cookies. I made tiny trees with my brand new Wilton Cookie Press. (You know it was just an excuse to use it.)
I asked Darian to get started on her Santa List, and it reminded me of how much fun I used to have putting my Santa List together every year, when I was a kid.
I thought it would be fun to make one on here. Not because I'm expecting gifts from all of my blog readers, but just for the fun of putting a list together. (See what I've done here? I've managed to find a way to make a year end list without it being a year end list.)
1- KitchenAid. In Pink or Red, I still can't decide. I really have no idea how I've gone as long as I have without one. I bake all of the time and I burn through hand mixers like crazy.
2- Canon 50mm f/1.8 - for my camera, so I can get better low light shots at rock shows, and finally be able to take decent shots at The Triple Door. It is visually the most amazing club, but you can't use a flash there which makes my fancy camera uttery useless there.
3- A bunch of Wilton stuff. I want so much cake decorating stuff from the Wilton line, I could make a sub list just for that. Here are just a few of the pans I want.
4- Michael's Arts and Crafts is the same as Wilton's for me. I could lose an entire day there, just looking at things and getting inspired. I would love a few thousand dollars and a week to spend there.
5- Brief Encounter DVD- I already own it, but I made the mistake of buying the DVD that only works in Europe. I want the Criterion Collection DVD.
That is really all I can come up with right now. There are other things I want/need, but those fall more under the realm of necessity, like a new mattress set, a new chair, a new Neumann Microphone (Wait, how did that get in there?) So, it's not a long list, but I'm not a girl who wants for much in this life.
Hot off the press! They are for sale HERE. If you buy them from LuLu, you get 3 for $27.49. They would make a great stocking stuffer for the kids in your life!
OR, if you only want one copy, I will sell them individually for $10 each +shipping. Just send me an email: lilblackcat23 at gmail.com
Now that the postcards have begun to arrive and people are starting to respond, I wanted to take a moment to thank a few people.
First I wanted to thank Darla who invited me to participate in her "2009 Wig Project" which inspired this whole project. I never really thought about postcards, but when I started putting the wig project cards together, I just kept going, and so the postcard project was born...
The other person I wanted to thank, and to dedicate the 365 Days of Photos postcard project to is Diane (My Mother-in-Law) She was the one who bought us our very first digital camera in 2005, now 5 years and 8,640 photos later, the photo postcard project was born. So, thank you Diane for being wicked cool!!
and Thank YOU people who are,have,and will be participating in the 365 Days of Photos Postcard Project!!
Before i even saw your blog post about what to do, i had pinned your postcard up on the pin board next to my desk. it is filled with lovely things people have sent me. i look up at it repeatedly when i'm sitting at my desk working on things that are less wonderful.
Did you receive a postcard from me? Would you like to help me with my 365 Days of Photos project? There are many easy ways you can participate! (Technically, by getting a postcard, you are already participating!)
When you receive your postcard please do one of the following: 1- Email, twitter, FB me and let me know that it was, in fact, received. If you would like to elaborate on the shape it was in after going through the post, that would be great!
2- Take a photo of the postcard in your possession, with your cat, on your refrigerator, in your hand... with a camera or even just with a cell phone and email it to me at lilblackcat23 at gmail dot com. OR 3- Come up with some other creative way to let me know you got it.
I will be posting all of these responses as a series on www.michelleauer.com as I send out the post cards. Thanks for joining me in this fun little interactive art project!
If you would like to get a card and participate, you can leave me your mailing address in the comments. All of my comments are moderated, so I will not make your mailing address public. Or you can email me with your mailing address at: lilblackcat23 at gmail dot com with 365 days of Photos in the header.
I made these as well. They are what I might imagine heaven would taste like. I need a shirt that says, "I LOVE BUTTERCREAM" Thank Jeebus I work at a large office now where people are happy to eat my baking experiments. Otherwise I'd be 300 pounds by the holidays at the rate I've been baking!
Tonight, I did some experimenting with infused butter. I don't know if it was a complete success, but the cookies are delicious. I think I know now what I should do next time. I've always loved the scent and flavor of Earl Grey tea. I was using a typical shortbread cookie recipe but before I made it, I took one of the sticks of butter and melted it on the stove top, careful not to burn or cook the butter. I added 4 teabags to the butter and I let it cook in the butter for a while, and then I set them aside, off the heat and let them soak for about 10 minutes. The end result was butter with a very strong tea scent. This recipe called for 4 sticks of butter, so I mixed in the one melted stick into the 3 cold sticks, beating it until fluffy, about ten minutes. When they baked, you could really smell the tea, they smelled like heaven, but you can't really taste it in the actual cookie. I think the next time, I will use loose tea and let it soak a lot longer and then strain it out before using it for the cookies. I don't think the four teabags were enough. I didn't feel like messing with rolling pins and cookie cutter, so I turned these into thumbprint cookies and added a dollop of raspberry jam in each cookie. They are quite pretty, and delicious!
I own my name again! After 5 LONG years of being parked and unused, the www.michelleauer.com domain name finally expired this morning & I bought it before the previous owner could renew. I updated my layout to celebrate!
I have loads of stuff to post about! A lot of cool stuff has been happening! For example: I have not posted about Jon's 40th birthday parties or Darian's 15th birthday:Or the amazing rock shows I've been to (including John Wesley Harding at The Triple Door, Spiral Stairs and Bob Mould at Neumos, The Disciplines (Ken Stringfellow's new band) at The Comet and Pink! at the Key Arena)
The new Spiral Stairs record that just came out (And that I have a vocal credit on! Check out Blood Money)
I could talk about how much I love my new job. How creative I have been recently. It is amazing how recharged I feel now that I am working normal hours again and have my free time back.
I will sit down soon and write all about all of these things, or at least post some photos, but for now I will post a photo of the cake I just made!
It's chocolate cake with cherry preserves in the center and covered in a cloud of the most amazing whipped buttercream frosting I've ever made. (Basically three sticks of sweet cream butter & Heavy cream whipped into a cloud of amazing.)
I participated in a photo challenge for October. The theme was wigs. That was easy for me because I have two wigs that just so happen to be my two favorite alter egos. (Or at least that is how I like to think of them.)
Now that I have a teenage daughter in High School (I sometimes repeat that to myself just to come to a place of true acceptance of this fact) I find myself sharing stories, while in groups of friends that start with, “When I was her age…”
This has lead to re-visiting a lot of things that I have not thought about in what feels like hundreds of years. It also makes me thank my lucky stars that I have such a grounded, down to earth, NON-boy crazy, level headed daughter. Basically, I'm very happy that I don’t have a kid who is anything like I was in school.
I was having lunch with my friend today and we were sharing war stories from when we were teenagers when we came to the story of how we lost our virginity.
Now, my story is actually pretty entertaining, but I have never shared it publicly because, well, because I know my parents read my blog.
I’ve come to the decision that I am in my mid-30’s, married, and have a teenager. I’m pretty sure my parents no longer think I am a virgin, so I can share this story. (This means Mom and Dad, if you want to remain blissfully unaware, then stop reading now.)
I grew up in a little nowhere place called: Eagle River, Alaska.
Population: Who cares?
The most exciting thing that town had to offer was driving to a slightly less smaller town, that we referred to as our city, and driving around a 12 block “strip” on a Saturday night, listening to your music loud and honking at your friends as you drove by.
The boys were all total hockey playing lumberjacks and the girls all had big hair and their biggest concerns were, “Who scammed on my man?”, “I can’t have flat hair!” and “Didn’t she already wear those same Guess jeans on Monday?”
I was cursed with the boobs of a 20 year old at the age of 12 and an even bigger brain. I was shy, hard headed, kind of dark, and a lot cynical. I liked boys, in fact I would say I was boy crazy, but I was also smart enough to never let on that I even noticed them because my much greater fear of being rejected ruled most opposite sex interactions.
Instead, I liked to put myself squarely and firmly in the land of “Just friends” so as to avoid any pesky romantic notions and ruin a good thing. I figured I would rather be best buddies with a guy than have to deal with all of the drama that comes with dating, kissing and God forbid, SEX!
I have a lot of theories why the idea of getting naked with any man scared the bejeezus out of me. My main theory is; When I was a very little girl, I went to church and a Lutheran school. I bought into everything that was being shoveled at me at a very young and impressionable age. There was a lot of “burning in hell for all eternity” that I was terrified of.
I remember accidentally walking in on my brother changing and seeing him nude and going out to the woods and praying every day for a week because I thought stumbling across male nudity was a one way ticket to burning forever. I also thought when I swore, God got mad at me, so I picked up this annoying habit of dropping the F bomb in my head and apologizing afterward. It was like a twisted broken record. Basically, church literally put the fear of God in me and I think it left me with a slight case of post traumatic stress disorder.
By the time I hit puberty, we had moved a million states away from the family church and I had some major exposure to the public school system. I realized a lot of what I was told back in the day was a load of honky BS.
I held on to the basic value system. You know, the whole, “Do unto others” and “Love thy neighbor”, try to “Do the right thing” But my definition of ‘right’ changed to more of a “Follow your conscience” and less of a “Do it or else!” attitude. I started doing the right thing because it felt right and I’m a good person, not because I was terrified of a God was going to lay the smack down if I didn’t.
At some point, after becoming a teen and moving into that new phase of life, I realized something very important about the kids in my small town: Teenagers are assholes. Selfish little self centered know it all sex crazed jealous bat shit crazy assholes.
There are a few exceptions as there are to every rule. My kid is no asshole and she has great non-asshole friends. The few friends I still hold dear from that time were not assholes, that is why I still choose to know them. But for the most part, I have to say, I think it is probably a 1 in 30 kind of statistic: Non-assholes to assholes.
Given the fact I was shy, pretty, smart, and surrounded by assholes, I did what every teenage girl would do in this situation and rebelled against all of it. If I could not join them, I was going to beat them. I was going to get involved with world issues, Greenpeace, Amnesty International. I was going to write letters about animal testing and go join in on gay rights activism.
I was going to be so busy that High School romance and politics would have no place in my world. And, for the most part, that worked.
I found myself getting labeled as “Alternative” which was pretty much a bad word back then, (This was pre-Nirvana America) and people left me alone.
I was the girl who was friendly with everyone, but didn’t subscribe to any cliques. I just lived in my own little bubble of “get school over with and get the hell out of this town”. That was my mission statement. I lived for the day I could walk away, get on a plane and go to a city, any city, as long as it was on a coast and not full of Republicans.
Somewhere, midway through high school, most of my girlfriends had already had several boyfriends and were already regularly having sex. They would casually discuss it at sleepovers and over lunch. They would compare notes, like girls do. Talk about how this one does this, or that one doesn’t do that, or would you ever let him do that?!
I watched each of my friends lose their virginity, one after another until I was the only one left. No one likes to be the last picked for softball and no one likes to be the last one still holding her flower. Petals were dropping around me like a cold snap in the Springtime. I was beginning to feel like I was missing the bus.
One of the handy upsides to being the school Alternative chick is that rumors run rampant. People mock, dissect, make shit up about that which they do not understand. Because I was dark, liked to wear blackberry lipstick, dyed my hair unnatural colors, and wore vintage clothes, many fascinating things were decided about me. I heard I was a Devil worshiper (of course), I did loads of drugs (Why not?!), and I was a massive ho beast with a dash of dominatrix tendencies.
The stories I heard about myself were amazing and fantastic. Sometimes it hurt my feelings, but sometimes I would wish I had the self assured prowess of the woman they were accusing me of being.
I once heard how I tied a boy up and had my way with him in his car at a dance. I heard how I forced a boy to take hallucinogenic drugs and performed some crazy witchcraft on him before seducing him and rocking his world.
Once I even heard a guy claim he slept with me, and then when asked how it was he told his buddies it was “All right”. That boy, I yelled at in the lunchroom. I walked up to him and said, “IF you are determined to lie to people and tell them that you had sex with me, at the very least you can tell them it was the greatest sex of your life!” and marched away in a huff.
The reality was, I was just a scared girl. I was scared of all things sex related. Between fear of getting knocked up, VD and the remnants of visions of hell fire burned into my psyche when I was all too young. I really wanted nothing to do with it. I didn’t even like the idea of letting a boy stick his tongue in my mouth, much less anything else in/on/around/near me.
That is the great thing about rumors. People would rather believe the juicy gossip than believe that you are a boring old scardey-cat virgin. So I just didn’t say anything. I didn’t talk about it, and everyone eventually forgot that I had not done it. It was my big secret, and it was getting harder and harder to deal with.
I wanted to know what all of the fuss was about. I wanted to be able to talk about sex with my friends and actually have some firsthand experience. I hated that I didn’t know something that they all seemed to know. It made me feel weird and isolated and suddenly I cared that I never had a boyfriend. Suddenly, I found myself wondering if I was really a social outcast by choice or if there was something wrong with me. It really started to do a number on my self esteem.
I remember the day I decided I was going to lose my virginity. I told myself I was going to find a nice boy, who I thought was attractive, but someone who would be uncomplicated. I didn’t want it to be a best friend in case it ruined the friendship, but I didn’t want it to be a stranger either. I approached the idea of having sex with the same emotional detachment of a social scientist starting a new experiment. I was going to have sex, that was not a question, I just didn’t know with whom this sex would happen.
The first thing I did was convince my newspaper teacher that we needed an article about STDs and teen pregnancy and I was going to be the girl to write this article. The research to the article entailed a trip to Planned Pregnancy for a Pap and birth control pills. I told her I wanted to experience everything first hand as a first timer in the place so I could write about it to my peers, showing them how accessible these things were. She thought it was a great idea.
I called and set up my appointment at the clinic. I had my friend, Helen drive me. I was pretty nervous seeing as I had never had sex and I was about to get my first pelvic exam. I was so embarrassed about being a virgin that I told my doctor I had already had sex and that my pretend boyfriend and I were going to be having regular sex so I needed to get on birth control pills.
The doctors were impressed with how I was taking charge and being safe. They gave me a lecture about condoms and STDs and then told me to get undressed and into a gown.
When I was lying on the paper covered table with my feet up in stirrups and my business hanging out for all the world to see, I started to re-think this grand idea of mine, but it was too late. I was there and this was happening.
The doctor came in. He was a nice older man. Very non-descript, and non memorable, just how a doctor in this scenario really should be. He smiled and walked around to the end of the table where my head was, which surprised me as I thought his focus would be on the other end.
He asked, “This is a training facility and I was wondering if it would be OK with you if I had a student assist me with your exam today.”
Me, being so mortified that I was even on this table in the first place and in a huge hurry to get it over with without fuss, just shook my head and said as nonchalantly as possible, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
He walks over to the door and waves someone in.
Through the door walks a super young, gorgeous man. He looked like a soap opera doctor and not more than 10 years older than me. I wanted to jump off that table right then and run down the street with my ass hanging out. I was a deer in headlights. I did not want this guy doing this exam. I just had no idea what to do, so I froze.
The doctors moved to the ass end of the table. Dr Hotty then asked me to move my bottom to the very end of the table. I scooted up a little. He asked me to scoot a little more. I moved about a millimeter. He then said, “I’d like you to scootch up until it almost feels like you are going to fall off.”
I giggled and apologized and said, “Sorry this is my first Pap.”
Then he said three words I will never forget ever as long as I live, “It’s mine too!”
I think I blacked out in my brain for a second after that.
Knowing what I know now about annual exams, this one was about 25 times longer than any exam I’ve had since. Everything he did, he asked the other doctor first. It felt like it took him a year to get the light adjusted just right.
And then it happened, Dr Old Guy asks, “So, you said you have had sex before?”
I said, “Um, yeah, but it was really quick and only once.”
He seemed unconvinced and mumbled something to Dr Hotty, which made him seem extra fumbley and then Dr Old Guy took over. There was a really bad pinch and the exam was over. I’m pretty sure they figured out I was lying right at that moment, but I never confirmed it. They gave me my prescription for pills and my first three packs and sent me on my merry way.
After that debacle I knew that losing my virginity to a teenage boy was going to be a piece of cake.
I was a woman on a mission. I spent my days in class watching the boys that I knew. I had a little check list in my head. Is he accessible and attractive? Is he nice? Do I find him at all intimidating or threatening? If we were no longer friends after, would it ruin my life?
I really thought I had it down to a perfect science. I was not going to get emotionally involved I was just going to get it over with, experience it in it rawest form. I was going to have sex for the sake of having sex. I was hoping to enjoy it, and there was even a romantic part of me that was maybe hoping that it might lead to something bigger, but for the most part, I just really wanted to have the experience. I wanted to understand what I was missing out on.
Ironically enough, it was in my Science class that I found the perfect boy. He was newer to the school, but totally adorable. He was an athlete, but not a dumb jock. He had a really sweet smile and good manners. He was as cute as a button and I already had a little crush on him.
He sat near me in the class and we talked on a fairly regular basis. We seemed to get along well. He was a bit of a flirt with all of the girls, so he left a lot of openings for me to be able to pose the, “Would you like to have sex?” question.
Once I figured out the who, I needed to figure out the how. I knew I did not have the guts to just come right out and say it. I was way too much of a coward at that point to do that, and I knew if it was me who asked, it would make my already wild reputation like a million times worse. So, like any good scientist or predator, I waited for the right moment to put things in motion.
It was a lot easier than I thought. One day, after he had been out of class for a few days due to a sports injury, he was back in class fitted with a full leg cast that went from heel to the very top of his thigh. His leg was propped up on a chair in front of him and blocking my desk.
I asked him politely to move it, and he answered in his cheeky way, “No, I want you to straddle it.”
Without thinking I answered, “Not here, but maybe some other time.”
I could hear the words as they came out of my mouth, but I didn’t really believe they were actually my words coming out of my Pollyanna, pure as a lily, virgin mouth.
The look on his face was priceless. Like he wanted to believe I was joking, but he wasn’t sure. I don’t know if it was because of my reputation of being some kind of crazy dominatrix sexpot or it it was something in my tone, but he decided to believe me. The next thing I knew he was whispering to me, “What are you doing after class?”
“Going to your place.” I answered.
By the time class let out I had completely chickened out and had to buy myself more time. It was still early in the day, and before lunch, so when he came to collect me, I told him I had just remembered I had a test in my next class and could not miss it. Could we possibly move our meeting to lunch? He agreed and told me he would meet me in the hallway at a certain area after class.
I spent the whole next hour in a complete daze. I was in a tailspin of emotions. Everything I had done up to this point was to get to this place and now that it was about to happen I was completely freaking out.
I was asking myself questions like, “Should I do this? Should I wait until I’m really in love? Do I believe that people can actually fall in love and it isn’t just a hormonal and chemical response? Am I just too different to ever actually be in love with anyone or ever have anyone actually love me?”
By the time the bell rang and it was time to meet him in the hallway, I was ready. Actually, I would not use the word ready, I would say I was decided.
I was just going to do it and get it over with. Burst the bubble of mystery once and for all and move on with my life. He seemed like the perfect candidate and it could not have been a better opportunity, so I was going to doit.
I walked to our assigned meeting place, part of me was hoping he would not even show up, but the other part of me was bubbling with anticipation. I was full of butterflies and was quickly losing the ability to form complete sentences in my head.
He was there, leaning on his crutches with a giant grin across his face when he saw me, “You made it!”
Yes I did.
I don’t really remember going to his car, or driving to his house, but these things happened.
The next thing I recall is walking into his bedroom. It was clean, had dark wood accents and a giant waterbed in the middle of the room with navy blue sateen sheets.
Now, at this point in the story, I think it bears repeating that this boy had a cast all the way up to the top of his thigh. One of his legs was completely immobile. He has a WATERBED and slippery sateen sheets.
I could have not made this a worse scenario if I was making it up. Sex under these circumstances would be darn near impossible for me now, much less back then when I had NEVER even come close to having sex before. The only thing that could have made it worse would have been a panel of judges sitting at the foot of the bed with score cards.
I remember asking him if his leg hurt and he told me that he was on pretty strong pain killers so it didn’t bother him, that’s when he remembered that it was time for him to take more. He swallowed some pills, adding another obstacle to our already crazy situation, and turned on the radio.
I remember telling myself that it was really important to remember what was playing because these were the songs I was losing my virginity to. I don’t know if I was thinking I needed to make a mixed tape someday or what, but it seemed extremely important at the time.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked
I told him no, even though I was, because I wanted him to use a condom, especially after having just written seven pages on STDs for the school newspaper. I was completely skeeved out by it all.
He kissed me.
Our clothes came off and we were in the bed lying there side by side like a mom and dad on a TV sitcom.
It was strange and uncomfortable but exciting at the same time. His warm smile and soft voice is what got me through it. He had a natural way of making people at ease around him and it was a very handy trait at this point in time. I thought if I focused on his voice and smile it would get me through it.
The sex was weird, awkward and brief. We had a lot of things working against us, and go wrong, namely a waterbed, sateen sheets and a full leg cast.
It was over before the end of, What it Takes by Aerosmith, had finished playing on the radio.
Then we laid there for a minute and chatted. It was that nervous chatter that doesn’t really change after awkward sexual encounters: How has your day been? What is your favorite class? How soon before I can get up and get the hell out of here?
I remember thinking that I should tell him that this was my first time. That all of the rumors he had heard were not true and that I chose today to be the day and him to be the guy who would be my first.
I wanted to say those words, but when I opened my mouth I said, “I hardly ever do anything like this.”
WHAT!?!? Who?!? What the crap!?! It is like I just blurted out some bullshit I heard on a movie or something. Like I was some nonchalant lady, from the big city, who takes on lovers and throws them away at her whims. I could not believe I said the words, but once they were said, I could not un-say them.
I just turned, “This is my first time” into “This is business as usual”
After that, we got dressed and he drove me back to school.
We didn’t say anything on the drive back, but when we got to the school he turned to me. I think it was out of fear of what he was about to say to me that I told him, “Please keep this between us. I don’t want it to get around that this happened. Are we cool?”
It was like I was there, but there was some crazy bitch in the driver’s seat.
He looked surprised and agreed and we hugged and parted ways.
I remember having a lot of thoughts about it after it happened. Being surprised that I didn’t burst into flames of hellfire for what I did, surprised it was not earth shattering and we didn’t come out all sweaty and shiny like they do in the movies, but most of all surprised that I didn’t feel really anything.
I thought I would feel terribly guilty or somehow shamed, but instead I was overcome with one thought: “That’s it? That is sex? This is what everyone has been making such a big deal out of?!”
To this day, I never told the boy he was my first. I made a joke when he befriended me on Facebook that I should write him and tell him. Could you imagine how awkward that letter would be?
“So hey, I know it’s been nearly 20 years, but there is something I’ve always wanted to tell you...”
Three nights ago our beloved Moo kitty got out.What was going to be a relaxing evening of eating take out and watching bad TV, turned into a stressful evening of fitful sleep and a full on kitty hunt with flashlights through the neighborhood.
The door didn't shut all of the way behind Jon when he returned from picking up take out and Moo got out. He was feral when we took him in a year ago, and panics at strangers and any loud outside sound. When I saw the door was open I went to find the cats. They were both standing about 6 feet from the door looking shocked to be outside. As soon as Buddy spotted me he ran back inside, but Moo panicked and ran in the opposite direction and vanished around the corner.
We looked everywhere, all night. Jon slept on the couch with the door open in hopes he would come back on his own. I woke up at 2AM and then 4AM to look again. At 7AM I got up and went out in my PJ's and called for him again. This time he meowed. I found he was holed up in the neighbors crawl space under their house. There is only a tiny entrance, so it is impossible to get to him, but you could see him and pet him through the hole. (At one point the biggest ugliest Wolf spider came out that hole that I had been sticking my arm in all night. I won't even tell you how much THAT freaked me out.) I sat with him for a while and he eventually came out enough for me to get him by the scruff. I went to pick him up and he freaked out at the smallest movement, took a chunk out of my arm and sprinted to the wooded area behind the house. It is all fenced off and very dense so I could not follow him. He meowed at me and watched me all pitifully from the other side of the fence, but I could not get to him. Night two and three he spent back under the crawl space. Yesterday I rented a trap from Crown Hill Pet Supply. They were great. They rented it to me for only $3.50 per day and gave me tips on how to get him.
Last night I was up every two hours to check the trap. He was sleeping about a foot away from it with zero interest in going in. I finally put food in it and went to sleep. I got up around 7AM and ran out to the trap. Somehow, Moo got in the trap, ate all of the food and didn't trip the door, so he was well fed and escaped! I was so sad, that meant he was full and less likely to get back in the trap. I decided since I was renting it and had today off, I might as well give it one more try. I set it again with tuna and went back to getting Darian ready for school. At 9:30 I had to leave for the dentist and checked one last time, the trap had been tripped and a seriously angry Moo kitty was inside. I actually cried because I was so relieved to bring him back home safe and sound. All of my muscles hurt from the stress of not sleeping and hunching down to talk to him in the crawl space. My back was so sore yesterday I almost could not get back up after crouching for a few hours. Bringing him home was almost funny. The sound he was making from the cage was more human sounding than feline. He was MAD! When I got him in the house and he realized where he was, he calmed right down and headed to his favorite hiding spot in my clean clothes. Now he is passed out cold, probably exhausted from his ordeal. I'm so happy he is back home safe.
Tales, recipes, and general observations from the unique perspective of a mother of two kids with an 18 year age gap, and step mother to an active middle schooler. In the world of parenting, pre and post the internet age, I've pretty much seen it all and don't mind sharing what I've learned.
We adopted him from the pound. He was found wandering around the city, he was not tagged or fixed.
We adopted him from the pound. He was found wandering around the city, he was not tagged or fixed.
I must have walked 20 miles in the last week and have totally enjoyed it. I love how having a dog just gives you a reason to go outside and enjoy the world every day, even if you didn't think you were in the mood. It's so easy to hole up in the house and work on art, watch movies or just generally waste time. Having a dog changes all of that. It is amazing. I've already met and talked to so many of my neighbors that I've walked past since 1997 and never had a reason to talk to. Chewie makes everyone smile with his sweet little face. He is basically a superstar!
I must have walked 20 miles in the last week and have totally enjoyed it. I love how having a dog just gives you a reason to go outside and enjoy the world every day, even if you didn't think you were in the mood. It's so easy to hole up in the house and work on art, watch movies or just generally waste time. Having a dog changes all of that. It is amazing. I've already met and talked to so many of my neighbors that I've walked past since 1997 and never had a reason to talk to. Chewie makes everyone smile with his sweet little face. He is basically a superstar!
And now, Chewie. He came home, and to our surprise was not only super well behaved, doesn't bark, doesn't chew things up, but he is also potty trained and gets along fine with the cats!! It amazes me that someone just threw him away. Their loss, our gain. (As I type this, Chewie is sitting on Jon's lap getting lots of hugs and cuddles.)
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