Hooray for Pubic Health*!

I sometimes joke that I got into sex education through the back door.  No, not that back door, silly…

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Secret Ingredients

My grandmother was typically a pretty poor cook.  But then she’d knock out a Thanksgiving feast of such perfection that it might have gotten the European invaders to agree not to rip off the Natives.  (No, I mean REALLY agree.  And keep it.) WTF???  My mom, on the other hand, was usually a great cook.  Not so much in the lean years.  Actually I remember a lot of Spam in those years.  (No, not the unwanted mail; the mystery meat.)  Fried Spam.  Baked Spam.  Sandwich-Spam.  I will never again eat Spam. 

Lesbianism – It Ain’t for Sissies Part 2

So there I was, entering high school, and along with all the other anxieties (‘Will anyone like me?’ ‘Can I pass geometry?’) was the worry that I might be a lesbian.  My mom had as much as told me I was after she caught me and a girlfriend kissing.  The gross tongue-stabbling I got from my first date pretty much sealed the deal.  Then another boy’s kiss also left me totally cold (I didn’t know it could be due to depression following a serious car accident and facial disfigurement…)

Lesbianism – It Ain’t for Sissies

Before I get into the heart of this post, I must comment on what it’s like to type the word “ain’t.”  I use it occasionally in vernacular speech, if I want to sound blue-collar-cool, or make some kind of point.  But I wonder if I’ve ever actually written it before.  If I have, I must have been on my second martini, and even then I’m not sure…

Innocence Lost and Found Part 2

If you haven’t already, I suggest you go back and read Part I of Innocence Lost and Found, in which I began describing the third-grade year I spent in an idyllic New Jersey town.  Only, it wasn’t so idyllic…