Sexual Education.

Let's talk about sex (baby). Lucky for 8th graders, who have already been talking about it, the topic is finally brought up in health class to answer all of our questions that we haven't asked anyone outside of an AOL chat room. 


a/s/l?


The unfortunate thing is that my friends and I were getting more education from Dawson's Creek than we were actually getting in class, which is why the following note puts DC above the real facts.

Just a few questions on this...
1. How did it take the sex lady the whole first day to cover how great sex is... could that really have taken a full 40 minute class period and remained appropriate?
2. What exactly is this "stuff" that is going to pass through the 1/7 of the doctor's glove?
3. Was the gym scene in Mean Girls based off of this note?


Luckily, I got my hands on the handy pamphlet "A Boy Today, A Man Tomorrow," because obviously all the girls were more interested in what was going on across the hall in the boys room. While the entire thing is both entertaining and educational, I have decided to share the myths and Q&A section with you.. just incase you need a refresher on whether or not masturbation will make you go crazy.

What they don't mention here is that those sexual feelings have a remedy, I've heard it's called sexual healing and it can be taken in small doses if you feel hot like an oven, have a sea stormin' inside you or feel emotional stability leaving. 


Umm.. typical 8th grader in-the-midst-of-puberty responses?
Check, check, check.


My other personal favorites in the question section of this book include:
- Q: What can you do if you are too fat?
- Q: Do more hair and deeper voice make a person more of a man? A: No. This is a false idea.
- Q: Does having larger sex organs make a person more of a man? A: This is absolutely not true. (A little defensive, are we?)
- Q: Can a boy be a father?
- Q: Where can I get additional material to read? A: Paperback copies of helpful books about sex may be purchased. (All boy's first thought: so Playboy does count!)


Now for all my male readers, I'd like to leave you with this little tidbit:


Remember being a man means more than just growing up physically. It means growing up in knowledge and wisdom, in respect for your self and for others, and in love and knowledge of God. (Wuh-oh, public school slip up!)


May you grow to full manhood, and make the best possible use of your life in the world. And may you find new joy and real pride in every new step along the way!

miss ya 4 eva

So, it turns out that in addition to my Brokedown Palace girly-love, I also had an admirer. I'm not sure how I could have been so depressed when I was getting notes like this:

A little demanding, are we? I must be your friend?

It's okay, she (yes, that's female handwriting) made up for it when she called me pretty and told me she got rid of all her other friends to make room for me. That's not creepy at all!

I wasn't good at sports either though, so I guess there's a commonality.

Oh, shoot. The end of the year and I was off to Walsh. It's too bad our 3-note friendship couldn't stand the test of a 30 minute drive, but, ya know, that happens.

After all, things get in the way. 

College, work or wat eva.

The Fence Between

I think that I blame my 8th grade boyfriend for setting my standards of romance a bit too high for all future relationships. He was constantly doing one thing or another to keep me happy - you know the usual stuff, like mix tapes, ice cream deliveries and locker surprises. On Valentine's Day he gave me a necklace and a dozen roses with the following card. How gosh darn cute. 

Do you know what I did?

I got him a calendar of 'scantily clad obese women.' At least that's how the Principal worded it when he was sentencing me to a Saturday school for sexual harassment. 

So, I had to clean up my act and start being as mushy-gushy as he was.

After we said I love you, there was really no turning back. 

Can we all take a second to recognize the fact that I was in the eighth grade (I had braces!!) and talking like I had found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, just because our relationship lasted longer than a month. It lasted 7, if you were wondering - and I got him a card for every. single. month. 

(He actually asked me how I could afford to buy him so many cards, because he had to save up his lunch money or ask people for change in the cafeteria to scrounge up the money for my gifts. Again, eighth grade!)

If you're also wondering how I have possession of cards that I gave him, it's because he saved them all - and when we broke up (for real, because it happened every other week) he gave them all back to me in a shoebox. I guess that's better than burning them, but it was still a pretty strong message: I want to pretend you never existed. 

Ah, the romance.