Usually I do talk about sex on a regular basis, but typically it’s in a casual/humorous way. But lately it’s as if people want to talk about it more seriously. And I know it’s because people have genuine concerns.

And why not talk about it?

I’ll admit it, sex is on my mind a lot. I may be wrong, but I think I’m more sexually well-adjusted than 90% of other people out there. I don’t understand why humans have all these hang-ups about sexuality. It’s the most natural thing in the world, and it’s something we all have in common, like shitting or dying. And yet, what are we, as in mankind as a whole, usually most loathe to discuss? Sex, shitting, and dying.

But today I’m going to focus on sex because it’s less “yucky.” Well, for some of us.

What I find most interesting about human society, and perhaps Western society in particular, because I really can’t speak for the entire world, is our never-ending obsession with the sexual, coupled with our illogical, contradictory compulsion to pretend like we (both as individuals and in large groups) are virginal, moral, righteous, pure as the driven snow, nonsexual beings in total control of our uges.

Porn is everywhere, we sexualize and objectify women (and men, although there is a sharp distinction there) in every possible way and yet we can’t teach our kids the necessary facts of life in school because they “just can’t handle that kind of information.” But they can handle a plethora of Top 40 songs ranging in lyrical stimuli from blow jobs to BDSM and bisexuality to domestic violence.

Where would you rather children got their information from? Teachers, parents, and medical professionals? Or their peers, Britney Spears, South Park, and songs that say things like “my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard”?

I saw porn for the first time when I was about 12 years old, because it was the first time I had personal access to the Internet. I wasn’t searching for it, it found me, via good ol’ spam (thanks, Norton Antivirus).

Luckily for me I have a mother who explained the scientific inner workings of mating at a very early age. It really helped, considering that I had friends who grew breasts and started menstruating at nine. And without the My Body, Myself book that I received as a gift in 4th grade, I probably would have ended up thinking I was some kind of abnormal monster-girl who would never have a decent rack. Well, I believed that anyway, but the book offered a small dose of reassurance.

All I’m saying is, kids go through this shit whether we acknowledge it or not, and leaving them alone to fend for themselves is just not acceptable. It’s just you (the parent/guardian, whatever) pussying out! You owe it to those you are responsible for to try to make the inevitably of growing up a little less painful.

I also feel that our intolerance of the sexually “abnormal” is just plain INTOLERABLE. Being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered/transexual is fairly small potatoes today compared to what’s really out there. People have all kinds of weird things that they like, so what? If you like it, chances are someone else out there does too.

Obviously there are some things that are just not okay and never will be. Sexual abuse and rape of ANYONE, regardless of age or gender is a crime, and such persons should be severely punished for it, and way more than they are right now in our justice system. But apart from things of that nature, I don’t see why people have to get so worked about shit.

If gay people get married, apparently the sky will fall. If a woman becomes president, she might just bleed all over the Oval office. If children are taught to be smart and safe about sex, then Jesus will come down here and take back what he said about saving your ass come the Rapture.

This was really meant to be a diatribe on the dichotomy of sex and morality, which I do have very strong feelings about. But the only remark I really feel the need to make is this: it seems that as our societal facade of backwards morality grows ever larger (I’m looking at you, Christian Right), our sexual fixation grows as well, silently, lurking in the shadows of our computer screens, our credit card bills, and in our pants.

But not to worry, that’s just God’s way of telling us to be fruitful and multiply. Until the planet experiences system overload and we all starve to death without a glacier to stand on.

I’m not really trying to be a downer. I’m just a realist who makes lame jokes.

Talk about sex. We are the only animal with the self-awareness to not only thoroughly enjoy sex, but rehash the intimate details as well. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

READING LIST:

Candy Girl: A year in the life of a stripper by Diablo Cody

The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler

Gender Outlaw by Kate Bornstein

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max (not for the queasy or easily offended)

I wonder if everyone feels this way. I guess it’s possible. Maybe it’s an abstract idea floating around inside our heads when we are feeling inexplicably sad. I’m not sad right now though.

You know what the real answer to my problems is? To get off my ass and do something. Because when I’m working a lot or heavily involved with a shitload of schoolwork or other shenanigans, I have no time to think about feeling lonely.

So essentially, what I’m thinking is that the idea of being lonely is all in my head. Loneliness=Boredom. Probably spawning from too much time spent on the Internet and not nearly enough time being out in the world doing things that are in some way relevant to the state of the Universe.

I should stop moaning and complaining and get a fucking life–preferably one that does not revolve solely around myself and my non-existent problems.

Thank you, and good night.

I’ve known for a long time that he was neurotic and mean-spirited and obsessive compulsive, but I never truly felt sorry for him until the cancer spread throughout his entire body. Then he got nicer, and calmer, more peaceful. Which is, I suppose, where he’s at now, for however much longer, that is.

What’s really depressing is the toll it’s taking on the rest of my family. All of my mother’s siblings are essentially crazy, except for the woman herself, but it’s a quiet kind of crazy. A passive aggressive, Zoloft and alcoholism kind of crazy. I don’t think a single one of them (again, save for my mother) managed to deal with the deaths of their parents in a normal way. It’s as if they’re not allowed to grieve. Instead, we must push on as if nothing happened. It’s like the family motto.

A lot of my family members live in the same household, which makes life even more interesting.

So my uncle is dying of cancer. Thankfully, he does not live in the same house of dysfunction as the aforementioned family members, but he is most definitely dysfunctional. Obviously his journey towards death is bringing up the memory of my own grandparents drawn-out, ultimately fatal illnesses in the minds of my mother’s siblings, and of course my mother as well. But my mom is different. She’s stronger I guess. I can’t explain why, except that she chose to be different than them, she chose to work through it, explore herself and her feelings, and let it be okay. I just don’t know why that’s so hard to do.

Death happens, and we must accept it. I know it’s not easy; the thought of my own parents dying makes me feel sick inside, but what else can we do?

I feel guilty for wanting to avoid family-oriented stuff during this time. But being around them is difficult, most especially because of the things we don’t say, and the conversations we don’t have. But to bring up any subject that is “too real” or too honest would not be tolerated or welcomed, and being that I am merely the youthful, idealistic niece, I don’t think anyone would feel it was my place.

And plus, I don’t have the courage, because that territory is totally unknown to me.

It’s amazing that we all get along as well as we do. We celebrate holidays and birthdays with smiles on our faces, we make the requisite phone calls. We do it out of love, but it feels incomplete sometimes I guess.

My mother’s siblings really are good people. Generous, welcoming, kind, compassionate. But everything goes so much deeper than we realize. There are so many layers to a family, some you really, really don’t want to see.