Cruella's Guide to Parenting

Monday night I was married.

Or, every comedian who asked the boy and I if we were dating was told that. When asked how long, we gave answers ranging from 4 months to 4 years. It just seemed like the thing to do at a dive-y comedy club in the village, with an audience ranging from middle-aged married couples to a 15-year-old and his parents.

One the performers took a particular interest in the 15-year-old....'s sex life. His mother's scowl indicated her disapproval, yet the comedian blathered on about how he must be so incredibly horny all the time, a raging porn addict, and "probably would have an erection right now if your mother wasn't sittin' next to ya!"

The poor child. As soon as he gets home I bet his mother is going to tear through his room shouting YOU LOOK AT PORN? WHERE IS THE PORN? ...YOU HAVE ERECTIONS?

Y'know, one of those super comfortable family conversations about your penis and what you do in private.

To be fair, sex talks will never not be awkward with the parent-child. It is inherent, it is accepted, just rip off the bandaid and move on.

I actually never had one. I assume it is because I'm not supposed to know what it is or that it exists as a function for reproduction.(Ok maybe that, Catholic Church is all for the baby sex. Considering they didn't try to fend me off with a stork story, they probably assumed I would uh, "figure it out")

When I was younger, kissing scenes in the movies were accompanied by my mother's "ewwwww! don't look! kissing, bad!" or some variation thereof. It was particularly the "eww" that got her point across. Or the covering-of-eyes when it got particularly graphic(tongue?! was that tongue?)

They probably assumed good ol' (catholic school) would take care of such chats. The this-is-why-you-dont-have-sex talk. Not the why you should wait til you're ready, why love is important, condom use, how to tell if a guy actually likes you or just the thought of your vagina talk, but the WHY IT'S THE WORST DECISION OF YOUR LIFE AND SHOULD BE FEARED sort of chat.

It was amusing how it managed tackle both a self-empowerment angle "do you want to go to college? have a career? DON'T DO IT" and an overtly antifeminist, 50's-housewife angle "do you want him to love you? DON'T GIVE IT UP. he has to try to like you if you won't get him off!" We were programmed to think that men are walking phalluses set to destroy and pillage.(Penises are the enemy!) Incapable of emotion or rational thought at the prospect of "piping". Ok, to be fair, this may be true in some cases of the particularly horny/jackass breed(one-track-mind) of high schooler. The stereotypical testerone-drenched football player plowing all the cheerleaders after a win. But surely guys also had the capacity to, I don't know, LIKE someone?

I think a much more worthwhile conversation, beyond the creepy anatomical stuff, would involve elements like, "how do you know if you might be ready to potentially ruin your life" and "is the guy who gets to consistently grope you in the movies(aka a high school boyfriend) a person deserving of such potential wreckage?" ,"these bumps do not make you cool and are itchy" or maybe, "how to read people and their intentions" and "why your friends/your PE teachers don't know shit about sex".

As much as it was ever-so-educational to be slapped with a stack of books like "My Body, Myself" and "My Feelings, Myself", let's face it - for the most part we, puberty-stricken adolescents, are only interested in looking at the pictures to make sure nothing is awry or missing(awkward!). As much as it may try, the book cannot adequately convey the importance of staying true to your own needs and wants, while being respectful of others' needs and wants. Also, how to tell if yours are being disrespected(maybe a diagram of how to kick someone in the groin ... ok, excessive).which I think are crucial elements to sex/relationship education.

So, my kids(tentative!) are going to get a talk. They will have to deal with it. It will be a sit down(maybe with some sort of snack to render them unawares...oreos? hmm) discussion about how not to be a manipulative asshole(both guys and girls) and how to tell if someone else is. Maybe they will learn how to have semi-healthy relationships with the opposite(or same!) sex. Or they might be totally scarred for life. Good thing I have some time.

There will be key phrases included, such as:
"if you loved me you would..."
This was a particularly great one, provided to me by our lovely and inspirational chef, deemed "anitababy", whose sole companion is a cancer-ridden cat (she plays mamabear in a house full of girls - of course she's worried about us.)

As she wisely put it, this phrase is a BIG. RED. FLAG. As soon as you hear it or something frighteningly similar, head for the hills. Whatever follows is a request the person knows you are obviously uncomfortable with, would object to under normal circumstances. so of course it is prefaced with the phrase alluding to the trust/emotional intimacy alleged between the two which is supposed to allow for such demands.

And it's hard. one needs to be programmed early to detect and not fall victim to such ploys. I did once, and it's one of those things you sort of *face palm* after the fact. Especially during the tumultuous relationship training ground that is high school, during which no one really knows what is okay/ not okay, expected, normal, this tactic expresses that "given the nature of a relationship, you are supposed to do THIS.." And how would one be any wiser? Where does one go for advice? Equally clueless friends, magazines whose core content revolves around blow job secrets, and NOT A PARENT WHO LOVES YOU.

I'm hoping to be the kind of parent who gets to actually advise the kid on these matters. I'm not sure how one actually goes about creating this sort of dynamic, especially since the default is only-communicate-when-in-need-of-car-keys-or-cash. And my master plan of hanging out with my child at comedy clubs is totally shot.

Guess we're going with sock puppets.

Serendipped-over

"Remember when eye contact was foreplay?

To a conversation we weren't supposed to have."

Warning: we have reached the "self-quoting" level of ego. But it should be expected - there is, after all, a certain threshold one must pass before becoming a blogger.

I've decided that I'm going to write a story. Or rather, rewrite stories of fuzzy memories and fashion them into shiny bits of fluff to break off like cotton candy(the blue kind, that is) when I need a sugar fix. I see that being therapeutic. Poetry, my intended catharsis, has only served as an ostentatious reminder of emotions I'd rather not have.

I want something like this:

Setting? I'm thinking Vegas. It could be a combination of The Hangover 
and Serendipity. A "down to earth" romance of sorts. Maybe toss in some Showgirls - 
the protagonist could be a overly ambitious hooker with a heart of gold (just kidding 
that's "Pretty Woman", but I suppose we could toss that in too.)

The lead guy? Someone like the Dentist, definitely. I see him complementing a 
John-Cusack-type of chase around Vegas, looking for the girl he met when he was 
black out drunk. They, in their intoxicated states, discuss the concept of Fate
(yes I'm capitalizing it) and insist they won't need to swap PINs because it is "meant to be".

Of course, years down the line, after sort-of-marrying a stripper and a douchey art collector,
respectively, the guy and girl finally encounter one another after The Amazing Race-like 
shenanigans(Serendipity and The Hangover combined, you know). I'd rather there not be 
any roofies involved though, that's just...unpleasant.

The main thing to gain from this though(despite the fantastically tasteful allusions to 
movies no where near deemed classic enough to pull off such a stunt), is the concept of 
Fate. Or rather, what people are willing to do with it(or not do with it...). It's no longer 
just a chase, it's goddamn persistence.

And that's one of the qualities I admire most.

Hobbes and Haddaway: A Mashup

What is love?baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more
As much as one may feel compelled to do the Chris Kattan head bob to the preceding lines, please separate the techno beat accompaniment from them(I know this is difficult but bear with me.)

No, I do not know what love is. I cannot shed light on its true meaning, or the symptoms to the disease that plagues so many. I cannot profess to - though at one time I may have. There is an endless supply of books, blogs, magazines, films, and shows that perpetuate some ideal one may or may not meet, create unrealistic expectations, and ultimately the frustration that cause the deterioration of the concept of a "relationship". This then stimulates fear and a self-preservation instinct that creates the entire game-playing, distrustful environment we find ourselves in. Hobbes once detailed such an environment - the state of nature (remember your AP Euro? "nasty, brutish, short"? Fun!). There was another key element of human life beyond the aforementioned stress and self-preservation - DESPERATION. Has the dating world really regressed to such a point? When we cannot even send a text message without sending it to five others or indicating any sort of general interest in the receiving party? The sort of game playing that makes the most seemingly genuine individual the potential player, someone to treated with caution(behavior which typically results in the same sort of disrespectful game-playing). Of course, the irony of it all is that all we "really want", as human beings, is interaction which makes us feel secure. The Haddaway lyrics above illustrate this point.

All we ask is that, when one reveals oneself amidst the intimacy that follows love, the revealee is receptive and cushioning. Love so often opens the door for this mentioned hurt - due to this associated intimacy. Removing one's chestplate permits another to stab you in the heart.

modern translation: remove your bulletproof vest and you gon' get shot!

Happy Happy, Joy Joy

Happiness is not contingent upon the affections of another. Nor a particular statement, event, object. To clarify, it is a not a specific person. A person and his/her affections may very well contribute some happiness, but it is not the person that is the cause. It is feelings relayed by certain sweet nothings, the right touch - which all may be found, perhaps with slight differences, with any assortment of people. Not a specific one.

This may sound dehumanizing.

It is.

It's the importance of a person, not the person. A slot to be filled. We confuse this all the time - notions of "meant to be" "THE one" "soul mates". It can be anyone - with the right set of qualities and interests. This concept is something of which we all need to be reminded.

A most familiar tale

We've all been there. And oh, it has been good.