8? 9? I don't think I started looking at porn until I was 12 or so, perhaps when I discovered my uncle got the Playboy channel. And then at home, I was always sneaking down to watch Cinemax.

Before then, I remember seeing Coming to America with my parents and, I think, covering my own eyes when there were boobies on the screen (which, I believe, were the first boobies I'd seen). And when I watched Candyman at night by myself, I again covered my own eyes when there were boobies on the screen. I can't imagine looking at porn when I was 8 or 9. I am pretty sure my parents and I never discussed sex at all.

Beautifully said, msbelle!

I could see it with a Barry Windsor-Smith Conan more than a John Buscema Conan.

Both have their charms...and by charms I mean...

msbelle, you are the best mom that kid could ever have! Hang in there!

I believe I've mentioned before that my entire sex talk from my mother was "You've read enough to know...."

I've never had an actual sex talk with my parents.

Never really got with the porn, but I totally read novels that were too old for me.(ie. many dirty parts, not like "All The King's Men") my dad "caught me" reading an article in Cosmo about a lady who had trouble breaking her hymen w/ her boyfriend and freaked out. I was sixteen. But that same year(or thereabouts) my stepmother insisted he bought me that Playboy with the paralyzed model in it(Why? trying to get me into makeup/pleasing dudes?)

I think I need more coffee.

Who's with me?!

Mine will also include some TJ's Sipping Chocolate and some cognac. So, pretty much the boozy candy shop version of coffee.

I've had three coffee today. Two more than my usual daily limit. But last night I was at a party titled Santa Booze, so you will understand the extra caffeine requirements.

I have to say, I have been tired and slow moving all day, but this is the first time in several years that being hungover hasn't also meant being totally depressed. I wish I knew what I did differently today/last night.

I had friends who crashed with me last night and who picked me up in a cab on their way home. We were exchanging notes: their party was in old money neighborhood and had one of the top chefs in town cooking in the kitchen. I was like, "People were wrestling when I left my party."

I had two cups of coffee, so I don't really feel the need for more. But I am having some delightful cayenne-spiked hot cocoa at the local chocolate shop. I'm here to get writing done, no really. Writing.

Sara and I saw the local ballet production of The Nutcracker this afternoon, and one of the girls from her class was an angel in Act II. Very exciting.

"People were wrestling when I left my party."

That's my kind of party.