A certain young whippersnapper that I know has suggested that the name of this blog is misleading. She said it sounds like a blog that's about the three B's of the aged....Bingo, Bunions and Bowel Movements. I am not there.....yet....so before I permanently retire to the Rest Home for the Terminally Groovy, I will rename this blog. Let me know if you have any possibilities. Now on to this week's subject....losing my virginity for the second time.
I have never understood the saying, "losing your virginity." What, it's been misplaced?You think you're going to find it one day? And if you did find your virginity, what would you do with it? I guess you could call your OB/GYN.
"Hi, Doctor. You won't believe what I found in the garage this morning. My virginity! Is that a hoot? After all this time, there it was, wedged between two old plastic Halloween pumpkins. I swear, its been so long I hardly recognized it. Maybe I can come in and you can, you know, reinstall it. Boy, is this going to surprise Harry."
If this were to happen to me, it would set off a real internal debate between the various sides of my personality.
"Sell it on EBay," would scream the mercentile side of my personality, whom I've named J.P. (as in Morgan). "Do you know how much money you get for slightly used virginity? Think of the potential market...teen-age Disney stars, Congressmen's daughters, Amish sluts...."
"No, donate it to...to a woman's shelter," the altruistic side of me would suggest. " You know, maybe to someone who had her virginity taken away without consent."
"Or," would suggest my dreamy, romantic side, whom I've named Esme," put it back in and have an old-fashioned wedding night with your next boyfriend."
"Yeah, like that would ever happen, " would snap my inner bitch, named Joan Crawford. I try not to let her out too often, especially around wire hangers. "Let's see.....you are overweight, over the hill, and wayyyyyy over 40. Do you honestly think there will EVER be another boyfriend?" ( I told you she was a bitch.)
I guess I could also call my old boyfriend, the one who originally took my virginity. (There's that language again. He took my virginity? " Hello, Police? I want to report a robbery. I had my boyfriend over for Sloppy Joe's, and when he left, I realized that my 'Peter Frampton Comes Alive' album and my virginity are both gone. That sticky-fingered rat bastard."
The last I heard, the virginity-taker was going on 35 years of marriage, and was expecting his 3rd grandchild. Sleeping with someone's Paw-Paw? Ewwwwwwww.
So, if I had to lose it all over again, here's what I would do...nothing. Seriously. Nothing. If the opportunity would present itself (take a hint, Johnny Depp), than I would let nature takes it course. Otherwise, be looking for my tombstone outside the Rest Home for the Terminally Groovy. It'll read, "Here lies Stacie. Held onto her virginity as long as she could. Both times."