Fragments: Death & Sex

Death

One of my earliest memories is a funeral, sitting in the pew with my Nana, a little confused as to why we were there and what we were exactly doing. I was told that the woman I once knew went to heaven, and to me that meant the attic of the church. I thought it must be a rite of passage. You lay in a box, people cry and love you, then they hoist you in the attic until all of the mini sandwiches are eaten, and the carafe of coffee is drunk in the foyer. She’d come down chuckling in her white robe, the traditional garb for a funeral, with her hands up. “Ah, you got me! Still here!”

My mother would never bring me back to her hospital room dressed like a living doll. Unfortunately, my Nanny never came back third-day style. The kind old woman who called me Cricket was gone.

Sex

“Do you want to listen to some music?”
 “Uh, sure.”

During college, I was seeing a guy who was obsessed with his gigantic Nokia tablet. I had a television with a VCR built into it, but we’d have to watch choppy pirated movies on his 800 dollar block. Since the future was there in my dorm room, there was no reason we should be living in the past with my archaic portable TV you watch from the bed comfortably. I was a virgin until college, and my high school boyfriend from back home was visiting for the weekend. We were finally going to have sex! How scary & exciting! To set the mood, we decided on Neutral Milk Hotel. He jumped back into my twin sized bed, and we awkwardly fumbled around our bodies for two minutes. Since it had taken us so long to muster up the courage to start having sex, the song was almost over by the time anything started happening. The silent lull of the Nokia Tablet shuffle feature made the situation all the more awkward. That is until I was deflowered to the Samurai Pizza Cats theme song.


Originally published at quirkywhitegirl.com on May 14, 2015.

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