Monday, January 29, 2007
You Can Absorb A Great Deal of Pain
Once a woman who hated me gave me a copy of The Sensuous Woman. Those who are familiar with this tome published first in 1969 know that it's a pretty innocuous how-to book billed to help "the female who yearns to be ALL woman." The woman who gave it to me knew that her husband had been yearning to have an affair with me -- wives always know even when nothing has happened. She'd also propositioned me herself, a preemptive strike, perhaps. Whatever the case and cause, I was thrilled to have the book, which I had read as a child. My parents didn't have a lot of sex books around the house, save for one ancient Playboy and a few medical encyclopedias (one so old that it discussed how birth control should be illegal). But they did have The Sensuous Woman and so I read with great interest. The book, written by "J", is a study in male-pleasing at its best, not exactly Andrea Dworkin, but for its time, it seems remarkably frank and not totally sexist.
I adore gifts, adore them! Seldom do I receive anything that gives me pause, no matter what the motive or the source. The ones that have, well, that is for another day. This gift didn't bother me in the least. It reminds of my childhood, the way Coppertone or rattlesnakes do. What's not to love about a book that has a section entitled Men To Stay Away From Unless You Can Absorb A Great Deal of Pain? It's a long list, but it doesn't include the married ones. You can't, I suppose, remember everything when you make a list.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"When you date a married man, you shouldn't wear mascara." Shirley MacLaine, The Apartment
Generique -- Miles Davis
Benedictions and Maledictions
The last season of The Sopranos is approaching. I will be taking to my bed for at least a week when the last episode airs. My parents both loved this show and dreaded the day it would come to an end -- alas they did not live to see it. It most certainly influenced their lives -- I can say that by Season Two, they were both swearing a lot more and humming the theme song with an eerie regularity. So today I will begin a countdown to the first episode of the last season, kind of like in Halloween 3 when you hear that song, Five more days until Halloween . . . except not in that creepy voice unless you want to provide that yourself.
70 Days until The Sopranos airs.