Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Fabulous Sex I Am Not Having

The girl in the apartment across (or as we in my family say, acrost) the courtyard from me is having spectacular sex. She and her boyfriend moved in about a year ago and all I heard from them was the boy's boorish voice in heavy and pontificating discourse, warped by walls and distance to where I could only make out the occasional word. Words like "halo" and "xbox". He moved out one day in August, one van and a buddy, his clothes and face wrinkled and worn, his hair distraught. He hailed me as I went to enter my foyer and told me he was leaving, the first words he ever spoke to me. "Off to better and brighter things!" I said. "Maybe" he said. The sex started soon after.
At first I thought she was weeping, and I put my earphones in. The walls here are very thin, and to give privacy one must do more sometimes than close a window. The weeping went on and on and I took my earphones off, concerned. Ahhhh, I thought, that's not weeping.... and back to book on tape.
Perhaps she is not having spectacular sex. Perhaps she is doing many very frightening, very exciting somersaults. Perhaps she is faking. If she is faking she is dedicated to the fraud, committing herself to the act sometimes several times a day. Somehow, I don't think this is the case. I almost feel sorry for the boy who left. Sorry you Shlub, you treestump of a man, sorry you big toe in trousers, you brown haired tousle, you shrimphook, you fat thighed monocle! You didn't do it for her! And now someone else is! All the time! Many times! I hope you're doing well! Don't worry, your girl is fine!!
I don't mind hearing the sex. They aren't right next door or above me, there is some muffling involved. From other apartments sometimes I do hear weeping, sometimes I hear fights or screaming or drunken girls in piercing hilarity. From my apartment I imagine other people hear the occasional burp, or me yelling at my cat, or both- making it sound like I am yelling at the cat for burping. Or sometimes I will sing my cat's theme song while she is furiously biting my arm Craaaazy on you! Craa-aaazy on you! Let me go crazy crazy on you! which is what I imagine she is singing in her own head but because she doesn't have words I have to vocalize for her.
I ran into a friend yesterday and I told him about the fabulous sex I am not having. He brushed aside my story like cheezit crumbs off a beautiful woman's bosom. You could be having sex.... "That's not the point! I'm not jealous, I'm just relating a story!" he didn't let me finish. You could be having sex. Lots of guys would have sex with you, but you're all "I'm May, I'm crazy!" He said this while flailing his arms in the air and running around. I would've given him five to the two if he wasn't so spot on. I arched my brow admiringly. "Oh, you're good, my friend. You're good."
I had a dream the other night that I was in a store that sold only chocolate covered banana products. Chocolate covered banana cereal, chocolate covered banana chips, chocolate covered banana bananas... They claimed to have more chocolate covered banana products than anywhere in the whole world. I related this to Mama and she said, Hmmm, I wonder what Freud would have to say about that? I hadn't even thought about it like that. I'm glad that I didn't mention that in the dream I was in the store because I was looking for someone. He wasn't there. I thought I don't even LIKE chocolate covered bananas! Now if this place sold mustard...
Petit Fleur writes about the marvelous brain and it's electric pathways, it's firesnap magic and I have to concur. While I am wandering around my days, wheeling through shifts at work and laundry and money and mold in the bathroom, my brain is doing the jizzy math of my basest instincts. My age plus my solitude multiplied by the moaning thumps across (acrost) the courtyard and divided by the heft and holler of my nephew in my arms = Chocolate Covered Bananas! You don't even like chocolate covered bananas?! says my brain How do you know if you haven't had one in a while? Look at the variety! So many kinds to choose from!
My brain may have to wait. In my head there are many kinds of brain (I'm May! I'm crazy!) and the primal sex monkey part is not the one with the keys to the kingdom. I am sober, you know. So very very very sober. It's not like I can go out with friends, get a couple of drinks in me and loosen up enough to sit back in my chair, much less let the hair down and peek over the glasses with that look that means come hither, that means maybe, I take the glasses off. No, I avoid all such situations. The compliments on my appearance I get are from old ladies at the grocery store. They like my buns, and they are not referring to my ass.
Today is the fifteenth anniversary of my car accident and I have to mention that here because it is on my mind. I do not recommend getting hit by a car, but I will say that for the first few years after the accident it imbued me with a great courage and confidence. After seeing my bones come through my skin, after watching my wounds weep red stained yellow tears, after waking up each morning crying before I even opened my eyes, falling on my hop-step way to the bathroom and waiting for someone to come along to pick me up, after all that normal life seemed so sweetly tame. The girls who intimidated me no longer had tigers in their eyes, the boys who would not give me the time of day were whitewashed selfish and preening. If I wanted to do something, like get in my truck and drive west alone with no map and no phone, I did it. If I wanted a job I just went to the place where I wanted to work and asked for a job. If I needed a cheap place to live I called a man I'd never met who I heard charged only $111 a month for one side of a duplex and instead ended up living with him, for free. Why not? But now it's been fifteen years and life has stepped in. At some point a few years ago I realized I was afraid again, and that scared the hell out of me. When I got sober, I made my life very very safe.
Part of getting sober in AA is doing a sexual inventory. You write down every sex thing you have ever done and you read it to someone. The point of this is to figure out where you have harmed others, where you've been selfish or destructive, so you can break your patterns and make amends when necessary. I thought it was great. I would go to meetings and say "So, I'm doing my sex inventory and I was thinking about the time when I was in bed with two of my coworkers..." not knowing that most people do not talk about their sex inventory at meetings. Cancer, yes. Bad haircut, yes. Sex inventory? Not so much. They'll listen, oh yes, they will listen, but talking about it seems to make everyone shy. I wasn't ashamed of my sexual behavior as much as I was ashamed of my regular drunken convivaling and besides, it wasn't nearly so interesting as I've heard through the rumor mill that it was. Three-way with the coworkers? Never happened. I enjoyed the moment but hopped out of bed before the deed was done, shouting thank yous for a lovely evening and stealing three Newcastles out of the fridge before sneaking off into the night. I'm a story whore, a make-out slut, but I get as twisted and tight as my professional hair when faced with actual promiscuity. Sigh.
So now what's a girl to do? I'm getting wrinkles around my eyes and sag around the back. If my 31 year old breasts are perky but there is no one around to see them, do they still perk? How does one go from talking about kazoos and the weather to slipping off the skivvies? I don't think it will happen at the coffeeshop, or good lord, at the Publix.
And I'm not crazy, I'm waiting to fall in love. I'm waiting for that moment of head rush, for my neck to prickle and my stomach to heave. Sex for sex sake is a young woman's game. One who believes that a tumble bump means she's beautiful, or that a warm body keeps the cold out of her own. I have showers. I have a lovely cat. Besides, I have a lot to do. I need to clean out the refrigerator and learn to cartwheel on the left side. Busy busy.
Amanda Ziller once said "Birth, copulation and death. One day I was born, someday I shall die, today I will copulate." Today, I will probably not copulate. Today I will walk to the intersection that knocked my bones out and cross the road, and then cross back. I will go to the grocery store. I will get chocolate and I will get bananas. I will stick one of those things in the freezer and one on the stove, and tonight when the cold comes in the windows and the moaning ululations reach with sticky fingers to my ears, I'll sidestep my wicked tender brain's dreamplan by distracting it with cool and sweet. You want chocolate covered bananas, you psuedo-Freudian charlatan? Here you go. You can have chocolate covered bananas. All. night. long.


Ms. Moon said...

Jesus God you are a writer. Jesus God and Mother Mary you are a writer.
Help me, Jesus, you are a writer.
You are such a writer you've brought out the religion in me.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
I love you.
And you're a writer.

May said...

Oh jeez Mom, keep it in yer pants.

May said...

And by the way, I love you too.

Ms. Moon said...

Darling. Haha.

Steph(anie) said...

I love chocolate covered bananas! The literal kind; not the suggestive dream kind. I mean, those too, but that's not what I'm talking about. Uggh. Anyway. I am of the mind that you cannot make them or eat them at home. They must be et at Disneyland.

And I love the idea of going back to that intersection on the day of. That seems like it would be scary and therefore worthwile.

michelle said...

Wow Miss Maybelle
I'm havin a hard time keepin it in MY pants.
And I'm not your mother.

Awesome writing
Should be published somewhere

Mwa said...

I must agree. You are a writer.

And you are having Freudian issues. Hug!

May said...

Steph- Maybe I too now love chocolate covered bananas! I haven't had one in years. We will see.
I do try to go cross that intersection every year. It is scary, it's a scary intersection, although it does have a funny historical marker at it. It says that 1.8 miles from there is the original site of the San Luis Mission. How random is that? Why do we need to know that 1.8 miles from one spot is a historical place? It makes me laugh every time.

Michelle- Thank you! As you can see from my reply to Mama I'm not good at compliments, so yeah. It means a lot.

May said...

Mwa- Freud! What a silly silly influential man! Watch- tonight I'll probably dream about chocolate covered cigars.

honeyluna said...

Perfect! That was exactly what I needed. Thank's for posting that, and tying it all together so very damn well.

I was just about to pick a favorite quote in this story, but when I went back to find one, it turned out that all the lines were just about my favorite. So thanks for making my job as a commenter so difficult. But I'll just tell you that you're a master of words, and here are some of my favorites of today...

about young woman who believe " that a warm body keeps the cold out of her own.", and

"If my 31 year old breasts are perky but there is no one around to see them, do they still perk?", and

"The compliments on my appearance I get are from old ladies at the grocery store. They like my buns, and they are not referring to my ass."

Love you, and happy re-birth day!

SJ said...

We are twins. That whole entry just settled it --if we weren't twins before, we are now!!

(I once walked out on a 3-way too. I swear to god. I may delete this comment later ;))

I so wonder the same thing about my 28 year old body getting no real use - is it just going to waste? Good days, I say hell no it isn't. Bad days, I sigh in disgust at my whole entire life. You know.

SJ said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
SJ said...

"One who believes that a tumble bump means she's beautiful, or that a warm body keeps the cold out of her own. I have showers. I have a lovely cat. Besides, I have a lot to do."

Yes, yes. Yes. You ARE a writer!

Mary said...

Well! AWESOME post.

Having discovered GREAT sex at a much later age (49!) I can tell you that the two threeways that I did NOT walk out on pale in comparison to the love-soaked screaming laughing fucking that I enjoy with Nancy All the GD Time :)

By which I guess I just mean don't give up, don't give in, when it's right you'll melt the chocolate-covered bananas with your heat and wash away the melted mess with your wetness and there you'll be.

Happy rebirthday!
I'd seen your site a couple of times but it only really clicked today that you're Ms. Moon's May!

Tiff said...

I'd read a restaurant menu if you wrote it. You freakin inspire me. I wanted to write a sex post for a while. But my family reads my blog and they aren't so...uh...enlightened, if you will.
But yours? Lovely.

gingermagnolia said...

I just love the way you write, oh so much.

gingermagnolia said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

You are amazing.

May said...

HoneyLuna- After talking and laughing with you today I HAD to finish the dang post! I thought, "Jessie is expecting me to post! I have to do it!" You are so sweet, Love.

SJ- Don't delete the comment! In fact, just go on ahead and tell that story, we won't mind. Aside from that, I'm sure your 28 year-old body is not going to waste. And soon you'll have a whole new town to ravish. That is exciting.
and thank you.

Mary- Thanks for stopping by! Yes, I AM Ms. Moon's May, and proud of it.
I'm so glad for you that you have such a marvelous and satisfying sex life! That is something to aspire to. Hopefully that will be me one day.

Tiff- You write that sex post! Just put a warning at the top that tells family not to read. I'm sure they'll respect your wishes (heh heh). Actually, I think everyone should write a sex post. Maybe I'll write a sex menu. Thanks for your sweet words.

Gingermagnolia- Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

May said...

RiotGrrlCynic- Hey sweetie! Thanks for reading! How are you?

Petit fleur said...


You are so fabulous!

I want you to be published so I can pick up your writing and read it over and over whenever I want to! (I'm selfish that way).

This whole entire post was just scrumptious! ...And I love the picture.

I have to agree with Jessie, there are just too many great lines to choose just one.

Love you like crazy. And so happy that you are here with all of us.
xo pf

Elizabeth said...

I hadn't even read your mother's comment and I was thinking, good Lord, you're a writer. A fucking amazing one. Why the hell don't you post more often? Or have you written the great American novel or maybe even a bunch of short stories? Please, keep it coming.

Ms. Moon said...


Glimmer said...

And where have y'all been? I would like to point out the following post that I made on Sept. 26 here:

"You are definitely your mama's girl, writerly speaking. Then, when you get down to the bone, you bore deep into it, sparse and hard and beautiful.

Salute from the north. Keep at it, young braveheart."

September 26, 2009 8:38 AM "

See? Told you.

Lily said...

Hey it happened at the Publix for me! So you just never know. I love you so much.

adrienne said...


what is five to the two?

May said...

Petit Fleur- Thanks Darlin'! I'm just so happy that I'm here with all of you. It would be so great to write a book, but I don't have the stories in me. Mama does, Hank probably does, but fiction seems beyond me. It makes me sad because I love novels so so much. But thank you for being so sweet.

Elizabeth- See above. Aside from that, I don't post very often because I'm just not as prolific as you all. I'll make more of an effort though, because it makes me feel so good. Thank you for reading!

Mama- Yes ma'am.

Glimmer- Thank you again. Such a beautiful comment! And I do love to be called my Mama's daughter.

Adrienne- Ha Ha! Five to the two is a punch in the balls. I think Billy (our good friend Mama writes about) is the first person I heard say that, or maybe it was DTG. I don't know but I just love the expression.

downtown guy said...

May! Think of all the stories we'll have by this time next year!

May said...

DTG- Hell yeah! Tramps like us...

juancho said...

"I'm May I'm crazy!"

Hilarious. My sister once force fed me frozen chocolate bananas. The sight of them makes me queasy all these years later. So foul.

May said...

Juancho- did the picture for this post make you throw up in your mouth a little?

Petit fleur said...

Who the hell said anything about fiction?? As Tiff said, if you wrote a restaurant menu, he'd read it... and I would too! Just write what you write and call it whatever the heck you want!

Crazy May Rambles, or Deep Thoughts or something of your own snappiness, and then each new story, or reports from your mind could be another chapter. In Hedgehog, some chapters are only one page long! Anything GOES baby!

Sarcastic Bastard said...

I love this, and your Mama is right. You are a writer indeed. I am in awe.

I don't like chocolate covered nanas. I don't want something good for me along with my junk. Fuck the banana (no pun intended).

I am SO HAPPY you are still here in the land of the living with us, I can't tell you. You're one of the best friends I've never met.

Love you so!


May said...

Petit Fleur- Ha! That's what we're all doing right here. Everyone of us is writing our own crazy rambles, our own deep thoughts.

SB- Did you catch my shout-out to you? You are a muse! I adore you to pieces. And I agree about the banana. It's like wasting a perfectly good cheese sauce on broccoli. (I actually like bananas and broccoli, but I like my chocolate and cheese with cookies and crackers, thank you very much.)
I love you,

Petit fleur said...

Oh yea, and I AM totally honored to have been mentioned in your post!! I got so excited by the end, I sort of forgot that part!!

May said...

Of course Ms. Petit Fleur! I always leave your blog thinking. It's one of the reasons I like it so much.

All This Trouble... said...

I'm so glad you're still in the race.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

CHEEZ-IT crumbs, baby. I got it. My bosom thanks you.

Your muse? I could go a thousand miles on that compliment.

I love you shitloads.


Anonymous said...

came late to this post; good writing May.
And no, you can't discuss sex with boys any further than "do you wanna have sex?"
Can you record your neighbor and post it, or...
yeah, I guess that's weird. See above rule.

Mel said...

Dear lord, you are hilarious. And honest. I could talk with you for hours about this post, not the least of which would be further understanding of the sex inventory. I think it's part of the looking honestly at an addiction-altered past which I tried so hard not to notice at the time ... So sorry for what the accident has cost you, but you win, because here you are, mocking life right back. My dad survived a horrifying accident like yours in the 1940's, and perspective is something he never lacked, that plus a killer sense of humor. I wish he wrote too.

Anyway, your post is a marvel and I like your brave approach to self brain trickery - ingenious -though, I can't see them tasting good, just fun to make, the sprinkles and all. Just make sure you dip a few pretzels too. We made those last night, best 5 minute fun dessert ever.

And about the mating game, I've found, that since I've had my wits about me, I had to just meet the right person. Get to where there are smart, funny single ones and when it happens, there doesn't need to be words, because your body will take over. Or something like that. I got lucky with the last one, and we kept each other!

Hoping you get to make your own exciting noises, and soon. You're still a fine young spring chick, so to speak!

Thanks for sharing your mom and your life...

SJ said...

Maybelle--40 comments?? Shit! I am lucky to reach 5 or 6. The secret must be in the chocolate-covered banana's, and that is duly noted ;)

We need a May blog update!

Danielle said...

@ may

yes..i followed you home...the way was hard since my laptop dont really loves me tonight but was worth it..this post cracked me ..especially

At first I thought she was weeping, and I put my earphones in..

i laughed so loud that mini-santiago asked if i m alright or if i hurted myself...

which remind sme of this disney movie i once saw.."the emperors new groove"...and i laughed so hard and loud and often that my neighbors called the emergency because they thought i had been attacked...anyway..err*...great post!

ps: i hate rugs..and wall to wall carpet...too

May said...

Danielle- I'm so glad you followed me home! I've been lurking around your blog ever since I saw you comment on my mom's blog (she's Ms. Moon) and finally today I decided to comment.
About your neighbors- at least you know that if you WERE attacked they would send help! Here we pretty much ignore each other. And then write about it.
I do hate rugs. I despise wall to wall carpeting. How can you slide across the floor in your socks if the floor is carpeted?

Danielle said...

@ may

i m glad too!!

and yes..that sliding is awsome..i just did that a week ago..slid from hall into living room..slid down and landed under the dining table..painful but funny..:-)

Angie Muresan said...

Your mother is right, May. You are an awesome writer. And I am super glad that I was led to both of you. By the way, I read somewhere that if you don't use it, you lose it, and might need surgery. Blessings! Wishing you find your love.