I have a question for you guys. I tried to change my blog URL. It appeared to have done so, but it seemed to make me lose my followers as well as all of my comments. I just changed it back. The comments are still gone, but I am hoping you guys are getting my blog. Can someone please let me know if it is working again?
FIFTY SHADES OF EMBARRASSMENT
So here's a conversation you should never have with your mother.
The other day my sister, mother and I were sitting at my sister's dining room table. We were talking about
inconsequential crap things going on in our lives when my sister brought up the newest book she was reading: Fifty Shades of Grey. Some of you, alright by now I'm sure all of you, have heard of this book. However, if you are anything like me, you may not have known what it was about. Honestly, I thought it was probably some sort of self-help book that dealt with depression.
**SPOILER ALERT** **SPOILER ALERT** **SPOILER ALERT**
Hopefully anyone that has not read the book and plans on reading it has stopped reading. If not, it's your own fault because , hey, I warned you. Moving on...
"Do you know what it's about?" she asked hesitantly.
"I have no idea. All I know is a bunch of my friends are reading it. Is it about depression?"
OK, it is so NOT about depression. But it seems I was at least partially right. It does have some self-help qualities. You know, if you want to help yourself learn more about S&M or are considering becoming a Dominatrix. My sister began discussing this book which is apparently about a naive twenty-something year old and what my sister perceived as a man in his late twenties- early thirties. Maybe they even say how old he is, I haven't read the book.
That's when it got weird.
She went on to tell us that it was about this billionaire guy who is basically the male version of a Dominatrix...(I'm going to call him a Dominator just because I feel like it). She talks about how the book lists the services this seemingly normal, straight-laced businessman offers.
"I mean the stuff in here... well... I had to google some of it because I didn't even know what it was. Now I'm afraid I'm going to get all of this weird email or someone is going to see what I looked up and..." my sister said trailing off, clearly embarrassed. "They talk about choking," she said like it was a question, "and...do you know what fisting is?"
My mom said no and unfortunately, I answered yes. I had grown up with all male friends that treated me like one of the guys, very seldom (if ever) curving their conversation just because I was in the room. I was also in the music business for a while, so you hear all kinds of crap.
"Choking?" my mom inquired.
I went onto explain to them that some people like to be choked when they have sex because it is suppose to enhance the orgasm. Although I think I put it something like this:
"What can I tell you, some people are into some weird shit. To each their own." And left it at that hoping that would satisfy her and also provide enough embarrassment to end this conversation.
"Oh...jeesh. So what's fisting?" she said looking at my sister to make sure she said it right.
Now to say my mom is a prude would be an understatement. I can remember when she and my dad were celebrating one of their more monumental anniversaries. We took them to a restaurant that was in a hotel, walked around after dinner and stopped in front of a room that we had gotten them for the weekend. You could tell my dad was absolutely mortified that his daughters were dropping them off at a hotel room. Now, we had also gotten my dad a set of golf clubs as well and wanted to see the look on his face when he walked in and saw them so we walked into the room with them for a minute. My mom and dad looked around the room. My dad was
very impressed that they had a TV in the bathroom. My sister pointed out the huge circular jacuzzi tub that was in the bathroom to which my parents looked at each other, then at us and told us they couldn't go in it because they
"didn't bring their bathing suits."
So, yeah, my mom is a prude.
As my mom sat completely clueless, waiting for an explanation, my sister and I had the following conversation across the table with only our eyes:
"Go on, tell her," my sister's light blue green eyes encouraged.
"Oh no.
You are the one that brought it up.
YOU tell her," my green-yellow eyes shot back.
"I
can't tell her," her eyes widened.
"Yeah, that sucks for you, but
you dug this hole," my eyes replied sarcastically.
"No...I mean I'm not
exactly sure what it is," her eyes confessed.
"Mother fuc@#%r. I'm going to kill you for this," my eyes scorned and threatened.
"Well? What is it?" my mom asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"Um, well..." and I went on to explain fisting to my
mother (and sister).
"WHAT?!? OMG! How does that even..." my mom said trying to comprehend. "How do you even
know..."
My sister chimed in, "I only know because it says it in the book. Vaginal and anal fisting, so I figured..."
"ANAL!?!" I could see my mom's head about to explode as she turned and looked at me. "And you know about this?!?
How do you know?!?"
Dear God,
Please let a runaway train or plane come crashing through the house and take me out right now. Oh, and give me a new sister.
"You hear things," I said then tried to explain to my mom the whole guy friends talking and music business thing and that I had never actually taken part in any of it.
"Whatchya talking about?" my eleven year old nephew asked saddling up next to me. "Do you want to play a game?"
"Good God, yes!" I said jumping up from the table as my nephew ran into the other room ahead of me. I turned and looked at my sister, "And I'm telling you right now, if for some crazy reason
he asks me about fisting, choking or S&M I'm sending him straight to you and mom and getting the hell out of here."
Seriously, WTH?!?
