BOOBS

This is the second post. What else was I supposed to think about when #2 comes up?
...
Um ahem! without further ado, let us BEHOLD:

Harmless obsession or downright madness? 

You be the judge.

On second thought, how about I be the judge! (Pun alert:) Wouldn't it be great if when a guy/gal was staring at your tatas while you're talking, you could just yell: "ORDER IN THE COURT!" and then s/he'd instantly respect you all of a sudden? Pshaw, as IF we had authority of our own breasts, sheesh, like we had control over our bodies or something. I would sentence all culprits to 2 tickets to next year's Lilith Fair. Non-negotiable. (Take me with you?)

"God damn it, that Sara is getting all feminazi on me again." I can just hear it. But let me tell you something. I don't know what it is, but the power of boobs has me, too. That right, you heard me! Now I can hear you again just about as loud, "Hmm, that Sara just got interesting." How ironic; I get interesting as soon as I'm on your side discussing the magnetism of the bosom. But, hey. As long my eyes are up here while we're talking about them, then that's alright with me.

♫ Let's get it on. Aaaaaaaahhh! ♪

Most of these ladies reading this have probably had experiences diddling the same sex in college, in one way or another. Most of these dudes reading this also probably have as well (uh oh, wait! I mean...well, that could be too, couldn't it?). In any case, it's pretty commonly accepted that the female sexuality is more, AHEM, fluid than dudes' on average. While it is perfectly interesting to investigate why this is, to be honest, I couldn't give a tit less.

But let's say....let's just say it isn't because men's stimulus bullshit is more visual and thus directly correlated with blah de blah and the women's arousal state is enticed by emotional fuck this stereotypical nonsense, but instead, it is all because we love food.

What the fuck does food have to do with sex?

EVERYTHING!

Which brings me back to boobs.

From whence came our first nutrients in the cold, cruel world? What provided our first warmth and comfort and FOOD, FOOD, GIVE ME MORE FOOOOOOOOOD. It just so happens that boobs are not only nourishing, but they are also a secondary sexual characteristic that bloom (gag me, word choice) when women can get all pregnant. The procreation and FOOD aspects to these are irrevocably, eternally intertwined and there's nothing that fat doesn't make more delicious. amiright?

Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeex.

You know, it's funny, Codename:Hools and I started a coup against food/sex metaphors a few years ago. We no longer stood for restaurant commercials that featured the sensuous slathering of juicy BBQ sauce over a rack of ribs. (There's definitely some biblical-inspired insult there, but I digress). Also any commericial with honey in it, we cast violently from our sight. It was a small, yet mighty coup, but now I wonder if we were... wrong. Food and sex have been intertwined since the dawn of time. So to speak, of course!. I swear I don't believe that people have existed since the dawn of time really, it's just a figure of speech! Jesus, you guys are gonna think I'm some religious nut now...

Anywho, I suppose the moral of the story is that boobs are awesome and so is food.

That doesn't mean my eyes aren't still up here, though, guys.

*picture sources
http://www.demotivationalposterz.com/2010/05/boobs-because-you-cant-motorboat.html
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tofu_mugwump/3740517295/
http://thedomandjaneshow.itmblog.com/category/jeremys-recipes/jeremys-crocktober/page/4/
http://www.cartoonistgroup.com/store/add.php?iid=50888

The first one, kiss style

That's a pretty logical spew to start, right? "The first one." How creative, Sara! WOW! You're a real writer now!

Hm, let's make this interesting. The first thing I think of when "first" comes up is first kiss. Now that was quite a story. Well, maybe not so quite, but you know.

In any case, I started internet relationshipping before anyone I know, that's for damn sure. On weekends, when I was a kid about 12, I'd hang out with the same folks to play chess with at night. My friend and I trolled AOL chatrooms, we lured unsuspecting creeps into cybersexing us.  

We were maybe 12-13 at the time, were girls from the suburbs of Chicago, but I tell ya, if the stats "16/f/CA, teehee" didn't get 'em every time. We didn't even know what sex was to be frank (well, my friend did at the time, as she was into adult romance novels), but it was hilarious with all the "oo"'s and "more'"s we wrote, we could illicit the nastiest chat sessions. I suppose only insofar as penis talk is nasty. Come on, we still believe in cooties. Boys are made of gopher guts, ring a bell? Believe me; it was nasty.

Turns out tweens are the creepers.

Then there was J. I found him when I was 15. He was a sweet boy, a year older than me. He sent me a picture of him. Of course I printed it out in black and white and drew little hearts around it and used it as a book mark til it got all dingy (I had a dirty-ass backpack, apparently!). He could borrow his dad's car, and he wanted to take me to the movies. We chatted a while. For about a month. And about what, I honestly have no clue. I'll BET I still have chat correspondences that I printed out in a shoebox at my ... MOM'S HOUSE. Oh god, I hope she never saw those... oye. *Shake it off* Anyway! We proceeded to upgrade to talking on the phone. It felt heart-wrenching to realize that I had never set my eyes on my true-love's (yeah, I was 15, what of it?) face, and was secretly terrified that he would find me disgusting. Little did I know it was me that would think that of him. 

We finally set up a time to go on a date!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!1! You wouldn't believe how beyond-thrilled I was to finally meet J. Tall, dark...really dark from my printer's shitty quality, but oh, how he was handsome! My best friend R was going to come with me, because despite all my intrepid internet adventures, there still remained a modicum of internalized socio-technophobic "EVERYONE ON THE INTERNET IS A PREDATORY PERVERT OMG I JUST THREW UP MY ANTI-PSYCHOTICS THINKING ABOUT IT." She, then, was set up on a blind date with J's friend. I told my mom that a friend from school was picking me up to go study at the library. Classic, Sara...but it paid to be a real nerd, just saying. We were in business.

STUD MUFFIN CONTAINER.

J rolled up to my sweet crib (town home in Vernon Hills) in a sweet ride (Dad's minivan). He was so handsome! I couldn't believe I was seeing him for the very first time. He came in, of course, and met my mother. I don't recall the look on my mom's face because there was NO way I could make eye contact with her at this juncture. ...Aaaand, come to think about it, this was probably the moment from which my mom thought I was sleeping with every guy that came over to my house. Even though I didn't have my first sexy time til I was 17 (another first for another time ;)). Moving on! What did he have in store  for all of us? A movie of course!

So...if you know me at all, I have the absolute worst sense of direction. (Let me demonstrate: a few years ago with my bff and former roommate codename:Hools, we'd gotten our licenses changed to reflect our new matching addresses that were not our parents'. We piled in her car after the DMV visit, and I spent about a half hour in complete denial (and actually argued!!!) that the electronic compass on her rearview mirror was, in fact, correct. I digress.) So, what I remember from the entire date a decade ago? Two things, vaguely. The first, getting terribly lost in some cornfields in northwest Illinois. The second, the kiss. 

What you've all been waiting for! 

I repeat: Fucking. Horrible.

What can I say. My first kiss was...

Fucking Horrible.

First of all, let me tell you where my mind was at. It's important for a lady to be in the right mind-set for a kiss, no? (<--say that in French. Also, escarot, ha ha ha.) I told him I had kissed other boys before, even though that was an outright lie. So I was a liar. Also, this was occurring right in front of my mom's front door, so I dreaded getting caught. Not to mention I was a novice. Added to the psychological torture I felt in the moment, he had his part. His tongue was the softest I've, uh ew?, felt to this day. It was like a super slug that wouldn't stop moving! It moved in my mouth, did the tonsel hockey thing and I thought he choked me for a second, then along my lips and a little on my face, like dog or some Magda who can't seem to get the lipstick to stay on her lips.

And, so, I said goodbye, he said goodbye. He drove away in his dad's minivan. And we never talked again.

I, of course, have speculated basically endlessly (or what felt like endlessly to a 15 year old girl, which means for maybe a month) over why it was that we never talked again. Honestly, it's like he licked away my dreams in one fell swoop-lick, only for a month. For that month following the *shudder* kiss, I went back to my friends, I played sports in the field behind the neighborhood with my dude friends without agonizing over the future with my new love. It also helped that he never called me back. o.O But I cared not! I was a new woman, and thus flowered my feminist brain that didn't need a man! That is, until this really cute tow-head boy named M moved in next door to me. Le Siiiiiiiiiigh.

...

Wait! I did talk to J again!

It was on okcupid.com, where I was yet again internet dating a whole 9 years later. I found him as a match of mine. It was a whopping 94%, too. On the site you go by a screenname or an alias (mine was ALIASilicious ;) ), but I KNEW his name was J. I could not remember from where I remembered him. Naturally, I messaged him. He also recognized me, but was not sure from where either.

Did we go to the same school?
Did we have mutual friends?
...I think I remember associating you with my girlfriend R from junior high?
Hmm, did we go to camp together? No...that wasn't it.

We went through the stages of waking a sleepy memory by messaging back and forth like this for a couple of hours until...I remembered...

Me: OH GOD! YOU WERE MY FIRST KISS! Wow, I was terrified, and man, was it bad! (Should I have said that? Not sure, but I did.)
J: Heh yeah I was pretty scared but remember feeling all pimp in my dad's minivan lol (No punctuation, eh? So you're one of those...)
Me: So, wow, yeah are you in the Chicago area? (Why am I trying to hit this?)
J: Uh kinda in the burbs. Sometimes I go out there for a show I'll let you know next time I do. (BURNED!)

Me: Ok, sounds good. It was nice talking to you! (Savin' face.../facepalm)

...

And NOW we never talked again.
(Awkward.)