Monday, May 28, 2007

The following post makes some references to scary porn from the 70's

I went to a wedding shower for a friend from my distant childhood last summer. I've known this woman since first grade and we were really good friends until high school and then, you know, high school got in the way. We thought different boys were cute and so we went our separate ways--no animosity, no I-think-we-should-see-other-people. We just did the old shuffle-shuffle-drift like I did with almost all of my friends that I'd had since first grade or so. It happened to almost everybody. In fact, the weird thing was that I was best friends all through high school with someone I'd gone to flipping kindergarten with. I'd transfered to a different school for first grade, made new friends, met up with this guy again in seventh grade, drifting from old friends commenced to ensue, youknowtherest.

When my friend and I both had babies waaaaaaaaay before any other people we knew, we kind of found each other being friends again. It was good. She got married last summer, and I went to her shower. We have come full circle. I congratulate myself.

I was several months pregnant with the Sprout when I went to the shower which was attended by all these people I hadn't seen since we graduated from high school 9 years ago. People that I maybe had gym class with or were maybe in my art class or perhaps English? Unfortunately, while I am good at a great many things, I am a math-retard and took stupid-math and these people, while maybe imbibing beyond human comprehension on the weekend and then having sex with the football team (ok, not really. Probably.) were actually pretty smart, so we never took math together. But I knew them. They're all really nice but since nice counts for shit in high school and what really mattered was what kind of soul-wrenching existential novels you were reading at the time...hhmmm...maybe that was just me. Also, my friends did more sophisticated drugs and I hated smoking pot. That may have had something to do with it.

Although, you know, probably not that much.

So here we are, at a nice house in Sonoma, all these beautiful people (I probably didn't mention that they were beautiful. They were Popular, which in highschoolspeak is synonymous with Beautiful.) who are, although perhaps Popular, also Incredibly Nice and remember which classes we had together and have kept in touch with all sorts of people I'd need a yearbook and shock therapy to remember and adult conversation is happening all around me between people who have somehow morphed into Real Live Adults. I am doing my best, always worried that they will find out somehow that I am still a child in a pregnant woman's body when my chance arrives to blow it.

Someone asked me what my husband does.

"Oh, he's in internet porn."

Thank you, and good night.

Luckily, most people within earshot thought I was joking, so I laughed too, like, ha ha, how funny I am, I said PORN! and they said, No, really, what does your husband do, and I had to think and make up words because beyond his side job of being a porn purveyor extraordinare, I honestly don't know what he does. It's something to do with computers and thinkytalkspeak. He is involved in a business that corrals usenets or some goddamned thing, and what do YOU think is the most popular type of information that is shared on the internet (please pardon--am complete LUDDITE)--all I know is that Porn pays some of our bills.

I used to have a problem with this. Then we bought a bigger house. I am quiet now.

Anyway, we have developed a fairly laid-back attitude to porn. I have seen enough to know that IT ALL SUCKS, but every now and then a coworker alerts him to a particularly interesting porn and so we watch 5 minutes of it before deciding that we will not lose 60 minutes of our lives to hairy asses from the 70's. An example from the other night:

Husband: So-and-so said we should check this out.

Me: Alrighty.

H: Hmmm.

M: (finding a quiet happy place away from hairy body parts)

H: ....


H: .....

M: Wow, she's got really great shoes. I hope she sticks her legs way up in the air again so I can see them.

H: Um, seriously? You were watching her SHOES?


Blogger Tracey said...

Well, I can't really relate to watching porn with my husband, but I CAN relate to meeting up with the popular people later on in life. It is a bit strange, because they've moved on and you've moved on and it really REALLY doesn't matter anymore who has the most in style outfit or car or who got to sit next to who in the cafeteria. I am currently becoming really good friends with a girl that I always knew in h.s. but never hung out with. We talked, in drama and in classes and she was never a mean popular person, but I didn't hang with her friends. BUT. She still keeps in CLOSE contact with a good 20 or so high school friends!! Seriously.

Wow. I should write my own blog or something about it and not hijack yours....

8:05 AM  
Blogger momily-san said...

Thanks, Tracey. It is kind of shocking, the whole growing up thing. I thought only people like my parents were adults.

8:32 AM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home