Hormones, Sex and Black Eyes

I remember this song being really big when I was a kid, I would dance to it and sing the "crrrryyyy" bit with full force, on the ground before the small audience of Beanie Babies. At the time I thought I was massive, amazing and darn cool. I didn't know what the lyrics were about, but it didn't matter, I was pure ace. My only encounter with sex at that age, was asking my parents to receive the answer "lets talk later". That time still has not come and for that I am rather grateful.So basically "sex" was just a three letter word that looked funny.

Thankfully I never quite saw the video for "Sexxlaws" in my early morning Rage watching.Therefore I wasn't scarred by the graphic image of a fridge humping a poor, defenseless gas oven. My Rage watching was something I used to do every morning in Australia, it was my routine. This routine was later tainted when at one point Rage led me to cut off the top of my hair, in an attempt, I don't actually know, I was sort of crazed, to look good for doing my dancing in front of the TV. After the initial act of cutting off the hair, I didn't want my parents to find out. (although it was pretty obvious as it looked like my previous cuttings of Japanese Barbie, bad to the point where one might think I had a hate towards Mattel or the Japanese.) So, using my genius I hid the hair in a drawer, thinking no one would ever find it. Sadly that drawer was where we kept the keys. So if the odd cuttings on the top of my head wasn't a dead give away, my own planted fur ball in the family drawer, pretty much ensured I was dead. Rage led to my mothers rage, basically.

My first sexual encounter didn't occur until three years later (unless you include being humped repeatedly by my friends dog, which I'd rather not, although my friend 10th birthday can't really be considered either), whilst a boy jumped up and down on the bed excitedly on his back whilst I sat on the edge of the bed watching Stuart Little. I wonder if perhaps thats what he thought his parents were doing when the bed was a creakin'. Later, it was found out that his father answered the door to fellow parents in what could only be described as, well, a tie, thinking they were also swingers to be sadly disappointed by their non-commitment. And the fellow parents, to vomit up their breakfast.

So now, I'm a teenager with "hormoooonnes" and every single day I'm induced to images of my friends pretending to hump each other, a pole, a tree or anything that they can get their hands on and I think, why aren't I doing that? Where are my hormones? Why am I not tempted to pretend that the flag pole is my giant erect penis, despite being born a girl? I'm not quite sure yet am rather glad my hormones are so incredibly lazy that I feel no temptation to do so.

Instead I spend my time using eye shadow to make it look as if I have a black eye. Which I thought everyone did until yesterday my friend explained that no she didn't. An no, not many people did. So perhaps my hormones just work in another manner. Apparently, I will end up alone with 26 cats, but, sheesh, if that means keeping my dignity, I'm okay with that.