.SOMETIMES RAW.

It seems so many women are getting pregnant these days. Do I want to get pregnant again? Hellz no! I do have an almost nine year-old son who I love unconditionally and the whole parenting thing becomes easier or let’s say “it changes”. But the thought to have another baby gives me chills.

Besides, giving birth is just so much pain. It is a beautiful child you end up with. I am aware of that but I don’t need another baby growing inside of me for nine months. For one thing, there is morning sickness. If I am going to feel nauseous and achy when I wake up, I want to achieve that state the old-fashioned way: getting a lot of good food and drinks the night before. I know that a woman glows when she is pregnant, and that sounds neat. But, I can get a pretty good glow by enjoying a steam bath followed by some assorted skin creams on sale from the commissary.

Overall, I think my best quality as a mother is the ability to communicate complex ideas simply. This is one of my assets. I think all parents dread the old “How are babies made” question. “Mom, how are babies made?” “Well, Joel, honey, there is an egg.” “Like a chicken egg?” “No, smaller. Much, much smaller!” And Daddy gives Mommy…. Well, there is Papa Bear and Mama Bear and the Mama Bear has the baby in her tummy…..” “So, I grew in a bear’s stomach?” “No, but if you were a bear you would have.” “But I am not a bear?” “No, you are a little boy.” “So, where did I grow?” “In Mommy’s tummy.” “How did I get there?” “Daddy gave me his special sauce.” “Like McDonald’s? How did he give it to her? In a hamburger?” “Yeeeeeees!” “I like burgers. Good night.” “Good night, sleep tight.”

Kinda like this? I know I could do a much better job answering that question. The more children there are, the more explaining about sex there is to be done. By sex I mean, of course…. sex. There are many different types of sex, but for the purpose of this explanation I am just talking about…. you know, sex. In other words, you might have two consenting adults, drinks, roses or confetti. What they do may be very beautiful and spiritual fulfilling, but it is not necessarily something you would care to explain to a child.

Okay, I think I have defined our terms, so let’s get on with the explanation but first I have to throw in one more thought: Have you ever wondered how people figured out that eggs were edible? Did they see something come out of a chicken and think, “Boy, I bet that would be tasty?” There had to be a first person who ever ate an egg. I am sure it wasn’t pleasant. In fact, there are pictures in a cave in the south of France showing a Neanderthal eating an egg and getting a big mouthful of egg shells; to the side there are other Neanderthals pointing at him and laughing. But who got the last laugh? I don’t really know, I wasn’t there. Also, this might not be true. It is possible it is just a dream I had one night after eating a bad oyster. So, back to business.

What you have got to do is just explain sex simply and to the point. You just say, “When you get older you are going to meet somebody that you really, really, really like. Well, if you are lucky you are going to like that person. Maybe you don’t even like them a lot, but at least they don’t bug you too much. Or, okay, it is, let’s say, closing time at the bar. It is really late and you have been knocking down quite a few drinks. And you know how the lighting is a those bars. I mean, everybody looks good. But then the next morning you look at the person next to you, and you are like, “AAAAAAAAAAhhhhhh, holy fucking shit!”

Maybe it is better to be a bit more allegorical. Tell a little story. You could say that there is a Papa Bear and a Mama Bear. And the Mama Bear says, “Where is that Papa Bear? He hasn’t been home in a long time. He says he is working late at the pretzel factory, but I don’t believe that lying grizzly bastard.” So she hires another bear to follow the Papa Bear – a Detective Bear. Well, the Detective Bear shadows the Papa Bear for a week. Then he tells the Mama Bear that every night, after work, Papa Bear goes to the same hotel room in town. Well, Mama Bear decides that she is going to give Papa Bear a big surprise. So, she goes to the hotel, kicks down the door, and there in the heart-shaped tub, sipping champagne, as naked as the day they were born are…..No, this isn’t a good way either.

Other possible explanations: There is a big fat queen Bee, and she likes her honey. So, she is in her chive and all the male bees are just buzzing around saying, “Ooooooohhh baby, I feel lucky tonight.” Or you take a big tub of butter, some milk, two or three eggs, a bit of vanilla…. No, I am sorry, that is not sex, that’s my recipe for French toast. At least I hope that’s not sex.

You know, I think the best idea is just to let the child watch cable TV. Or go out and rent the movie 9 1/2 Weeks. When I was in school, they showed us a sex education film about a boy is calling up a girl on the phone and asking her out on a date. Nowadays, I am sure they show 9 1/2 Weeks in a Transgender Version.

So, in conclusion, that’s how I would talkt to a child about sex. I sincerely hope that I have been of help. Excuse me, but I have got to go out for a short walk. All of a sudden it has gotten very hot in here, and I have developed a craving for French toast.

*Obviously, this is supposed to be just a funny article. But these days, a disclaimer needs to be added and that it is all LGBTTQQIAAP++++++ friendly, so NOBODY gets offended. So, there it goes:

Sometimes, when I am trying to get dressed, I find myself just staring at my clothes for an hour. I have not a clue as to what I should put on. And it got me thinking: That’s why prison wouldn’t be so bad.

Sometimes I don’t want to be a grown-up. I don’t want to have too many obligations. I don’t want responsibility or deadlines. In prison, I wouldn’t have to make any decisions. Life would be so simple.

It is true that the beds don’t look very comfortable and they only have those wool blankets. They are itchy. Oh, and the lack of privacy with the bathroom situation? I would hate that. Then again, they do have a TV, books and a gym. I would be in excellent shape, probably better than the times I trained for the marathon. They have a fantastic physical-conditioning area and it is outdoors! How refreshing. They call it the “exercise yard”, a yard dedicated to getting fit. You always hear that people in prison are really muscular, but I do not think I would use the exercise yard for that. I would probably have to bring my own towel and workout gloves, but that is the price you pay for absolutely no responsibility.

There is also the fact that the food is free and I always think free food tastes the best. Like when you go to those after-work receptions. The thing with prison food that might worry me is that someone might try to poison a prisoner and I might accidentally get the plate that was meant for the intended victim. That would be bad. But let’s just say I lived through that. Well, then, I could probably live through just about anything! Think what a strong constitution I would have. And probably a new zest for life. What’s so bad about prison? That’s what I wanna know.

I suppose I would probably have to be someone’s bitch. Unless, of course, I got in with the right crowd in the beginning. Still, I am sure I would have to do stuff I wouldn’t want to do, like rub people’s prison feet. Or clean the bathroom with my toothbrush. I get prison movies confused with army movies – they both have “Lights out!” By the way, lights out would be fine with me. I have an itty bitty book light that I could use to read old magazines because I think you only get old magazines or bibles in jail. I wouldn’t have to keep up to date anyway; doing time means not knowing what time or day it is. I doubt I would even wear a watch. The guards tell you when to do everything. To me that is just another prison perk – I would never be late for an appointment. And I would never be early either. I hate getting somewhere too early because I never know what to do with myself. Prison makes so much sense. It seems like I am the only one who has figured this out.

They say your best offence is a great defence, so I would definitely have to be tough in prison. I would probably start smoking again. That’s not good, but it would give me something to trade. I bet I would get a lot more reading done. I would become a lot smarter by catching up on the classics. You know I have never read The Sound and the Fury? Prison would be the perfect opportunity! And I could finally get my Ph.D. in something. I could really make a lot of money when I get out. Also, think about how many great friends I would make. Lifelong friends. I would be sure not to make any friends who were in for petty theft. It would be too hard on me to lose them when they get paroled. If I did make friends who were in for small-time crimes, hopefully, they would be repeat offenders. Then every time they would get released I could look forward to seeing them in the near future.

I wonder if I would have a pen pal? I have a Master’s degree in Linguistics and I know after reading tons of research papers for my thesis that the actual “letter writing” will die out. But now, since I would be in prison I wonder if I would have a pen pal since I love writing so much. A lot of criminals get pen pals. I guess some people love to write letters, but I don’t know anyone who does. I love to get mail (not bills or junk mail – just regular mail), but nobody writes anymore. Prison would be just the ticket to strike up some sort of correspondence. I would compile everything and make a book out of all the letters. I could call it “Letters from Jail.”

What could I do to be sent to prison? I wouldn’t want to hurt anybody, but that would be a surefire way. Who could I kill? Maybe I would just attempt to kill them. How much time would I get for attempting murder? What if it is not enough time to get my Ph.D.?

I could rob a bank, too. Armed robbery with attempted murder…. that’s good. And if I am lucky enough to get away with it, I would have the money from the bank robbery, so I wouldn’t need my PhD. You know what? Now that I think about it, even if I got my Ph.D. I would have to work, and working would mean obligations and responsibilities, so I may as well just go to prison for life.

I would still read all those books. I would be really smart, and I would be less stressed because I wouldn’t have all that pressure about what to wear. Without the stress, I would probably look better too. Although who cares how you look? You are in prison now. In prison, you have nothing to do all day. I suppose you do have to make your bed. But it is a cot. How long could that take – like two minutes? Then you have got another twenty-three hours and fifty-eight minutes of no obligation, no responsibility, and no deadlines – that is, except license plate making, and frankly, that is the easiest job I have ever heard of. Easier than comedy.

Oh man, prison would be sweet. But for now, I am on the outside, and I will just have to deal with it the best I can. It is all I know and probably smarter than going to prison after all.

I believe there are two kinds of people: Alive people and Not Alive people. Alive people are engaged in the act of living, attuned to others, present in the moment, and “a little bit shiny”. Not alive people, on the other hand, exhibit and almost spiritual dullness. They are dampened, muted, and view life at a distance.

I am an alive person who turns 41-years old today. Wow! Happy birthday to me. The past year has been an amazing one so far with lots of changes.

Because I am a visual thinker, it helps me to take notes and refer to them often. I take notes all the time and everywhere. I want to share my notes from one year that I jotted down in my little Moleskine notebook and that are daily reminders that life is awesome no matter what it throws at you. Do not take my notes to be literal, all-encompassing, or fitting in every context. This is just what works for me.

And always remember: There are lots of lavender bushes out there, waiting patiently to be sniffed.

• If you don’t know what someone’s talking about, ASK.
• Little by little, become yourself.
• How to become rich? 1. Make a lot of money. 2. Don’t spend it.
• Articulate what you love about the ones you love.
• Empathise with caution, practice compassion with abandon.
• Go for a walk. Don’t bring your phone.
• Excuse yourself and tend to yourself.
• Saying “Drive Safe” magically shields any person you say it to from getting in an accident, so say it to everyone, all the time.
• Know that terrible and wonderful things will befall you, regardless of your anxiety and yearning.
• Do not use “balls” to mean toughness. The testes are extremely sensitive, I have heard.
• Captivate your audience. Dazzle them with your wit and grace. Falter and remind them you are human.
• Remember that the likely explanation for the symptom you self-diagnosed as an obscure cancer from reading WebMD at 1 a.m. is: Bodies are weird.
• Think about what you will miss most when you are dead. Do more of that.
• Repeat a word until it makes you laugh. Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss…..
• One possible solution to this dire, urgent problem is to go to bed and deal with it in the morning.
• I am plenty. I have plenty. (Say it out loud)
• Require decency of your friends, no matter how long you have known them.
• Dispense advice if it is asked for. Otherwise, dispense love.
• Think about how proud your past self would be if they could see you now.
• Think about death enough to appreciate life, but not so much that it eclipses life.
• Treat children like human beings. But also like children.
• Let other people be other people.
• Be kind to customer service workers on the phone. Firm, but kind.
• Write down your daydreams, night dreams, and things you say in conversations. (Sometimes making art is just paying attention)
• Travel far distances to see old friends.
• Talk to yourself sweetly, like you would speak to a scared child. Issue forgiveness gently and easily.
• There are many kinds of beauty and your kind is one of them.
• Look up. What do you see? What do you hear, smell, feel? Isn’t it fun to be alive?
• Conjure specialness from think air. Invent holidays, traditions, and surprises. Ice-cream Tuesday?
• It is okay to be pretentious, but set it down every once in a while and maybe go to Legoland.
• If at first you park badly, repark.
• Keep the exclamation points in your email. What the hell, add a smiley face ! 🙂
• Make new friends: through other friends, through common interests, on the street, on the internet, through one person bering brave, no matter how many friends you have, no matter how old you are.
• Avoid anyone who is more than 2% cruel.
• If you are lying awake imagining art you want to make, get out of bed and make it.
• When you meet someone from somewhere, ask if they know the one person you know from there. It’s worth a shot!
• If you find yourself obsessing about everything you don’t have, give something away to someone who needs it more.
• When something is good, enjoy it. Things are allowed to be good.
• Consider that you might be wrong and correct course.
• When people ask you how you are, tell them how you really are. So they will tell you how they really are, unless you don’t care how they really are, in which case it is fine to say “fine”.
• You don’t need a good voice to sing.
• Let the people you love the most tell the stories they love to tell, even if you have heard them before. For everyone else, politely stop them mid-sentence.
• Your partner should get you through the hard times. Your partner shouldn’t BE the hard times.
• When someone you know is grieving, overcome your discomfort and reach out.
• Eat!
• Ask new friends about their friends. Learn about their little universe of love and admiration, and you will become a part of it.
• Say goodbye with gusto each time, just in case.
• Treat it as sacred and it will become sacred.
• Take pride in being the least frustrated person at the airport, in traffic, waiting in line….
• Listen to yourself when you talk.
• Live with people who already love you and will easily forgive you for accidentally breaking their favourite cup.
• Respect the natural world and it may tolerate us for a bit longer.
• Accept rejection as a grand indication that you are trying.
• When complaining, consider why. Is it because you actually want something to change? Or just want support and affirmation? Or love to complain? When, warn those around you so they know whether to offer help, chime in, or tune out.
• Say thank you with details. Example: “I know you worked very hard at that presentation. Thank you for sharing that knowledge with me.”
• You might die soon, or they might die. Or we all might. Make peace and hold each other close and never leave someone in anger and fighting without saying sorry.
• Never make your bed with a monkey in it.
• Leaning forward in your chair when someone is trying to squeeze behind you isn’t enough. You have to move our chair.
• If you have portraits of yourself up allover your house, people are going to think you are conceited. Replace them with portraits of me.
• Answering every question with “You got it, girlfriend!” can apparently be irritating to others.
• Be happy. Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system. Do things that make you feel good and proud. It can be almost anything. Name something. Yes, sure, try that.
• Help people. Help someone. Show someone you care. Say something nice. Smile. Make eye contact. Hug. Kiss. Get naked. Laugh. Laugh as much as you can.
• Find out who you are.

I don’t mean to tell you what to do or how to live your lives, but those are some of the things that have worked for me. And I believe with all my heart and should that even if we try the teeniest tiniest bit we can make this world a much happier and healthier one. And if we try even harder, we can do some pretty spectacular things.

Oh, one more thing talking about spectacular: My fifth book “Apparently, there were Complaints” has been published by Morawa and can be ordered very soon everywhere where you can purchase books. What an awesome birthday gift indeed.