I woke up at 4:53 a.m. and thought maybe I'd had a stroke because for some reason, those clock numbers meant nothing to me. Hard to explain. But then I made myself mentally draw a round clock face and put in the hands at 4:53 and I could do it and by then I'd figured it all out again and then I smiled in the darkness, not because I was happy but because if you've had a stroke, you can't smile on both sides of your face but it seemed as if my face was responding appropriately on all sides to the smile command.
Getting old is weird.
I could not get back to sleep. I laid there with a pain in my shoulder that seems to represent every molecule of negativity in my life and it just bugs the shit out of me. I lay there and I thought about things. For some reason, when I wake up and can't sleep, I decide that yes, I am going to start blogging about sex. Why not? I ask myself. I study the pluses and minuses of this equation. People need to talk about sex. Also- it might be fun. We could laugh at ourselves. We could say, "Is this normal?" "Am I normal?" "What the fuck is normal?" We could say, "Do you do this?" "Do you feel like this?" "What do you do about this?"
I decide I will do it.
Then I think about the people who read this blog who might be...what? Shocked? Offended? Threatened? Pissed off? (My husband, for example.) I think my kids could roll with it. Would my brother tell my mother about it? He tends to read my blog and then tell my mother on the phone what's going on in my life. Saves me some time, I guess. And hell, my mother talks about sex quite frequently. Mostly about how she does not want another man in her life ever again.
As Lulabelle says in the play I'm in, "Fiddledee-damn-well-dee to men!"
Which cracks me up every time.
She says, "Men, who needs them?"
And my character says, "Well, actually I do."
And I guess I do too. Or at least one. That one I'm married to. You know- Mr. Moon.
Well, back to the ins and outs of writing about sex.
See- I can't really do it. And why not? I am a tart-tongued woman who, in real life, can actually manage to talk about it sometimes. Although I think I am shyer than I seem when it comes to the topic.
Why are we so close-mouthed about our sex lives? We all have one in one form or another. Mostly. I think. Even those of us who live alone. As a character in a book I am listening to said, (or something like this, anyway) "Man, woman, beast, he's gettin' it somewhere. Does he keep goats?"
I tend to believe that too. Oh sure, there are people who probably don't have MUCH of a sex life in any form, just as there are people who are content to eat the same boring thing every day of their lives and for whom food is nothing but necessary fuel, but it's right up there in old Maslow's hierarchy of needs right after breathing, food, and water and BEFORE sleep although I disagree with him on that one. But maybe that's just me. I'd rather sleep than just about anything and that includes eating most of the time. And I'd make a joke here and say, well, Maslow was a man, after all, but are there really that many differences in the sexual needs of men versus women?
Yes. There are.
You can quote me on that.
I think that testosterone really is a powerful drug and that's all there is to it.
So is it all hormones? No, of course not.
Ah-lah. Speaking of sleep, I think I might go back to bed. Mr. Moon has left Lloyd to go down south to work on his sister's house for the weekend and Owen is coming at nine-thirty and I really did only get about five hours of sleep which is NOT enough for me and I guess I don't have the balls (or ovaries either) to really discuss sex which is too bad.
You, however, can if you want and some of you do and I admire that more than I can say. Feel free to just say whatever you want in the comments (as always) if you want to MAKE a comment and dammit- what's with the new comment verifications? FUCK THAT! I might try and go barebacked as to comment verification again but I just hate the spam. I know, Syd, I could do the approval thing. Again- life is too short for such folderol. Maybe. I don't know.
Here's what I do know: I love to eat, I love to sleep, I am certainly grateful to breathe, and sex can be fun. And complex. And complicated. And the best, best, best, and the weirdest, too.
And flowers are the sex organs of plants and shoes might have something to do with all of it although I am not exactly sure what.
Yours in truth and shyness...Ms. Moon