Facts about S.E.X.

So Sex Chaos is coming up in less than a month’s time – and you better believe Chaos Thaoghaire teams are clamoring up to get onto the booking list for the evening, with stories selected by curator Thomas Dunning, which promises to be several hours of back-to-back stories of sex sex sex. While Jane and I are as excited as our loyal teams, I will say this won’t be my first time listening to back to back stories about sex, basically this is how I spent my early teens, only this time I really hope the story-tellers are more accurate, because quite frankly age 13 was a very confusing time…

We knew there was a much bigger issue to tackle, something called S-E-X

A while back at our very first Chaos Thaoghaire (more like a test-run) we told stories about ‘first tries’ (appropriate because it was our first try at hosting an event). I stood up and told a fairly ridiculous and embarrassing story about my first kiss. The story was heavily influenced by childhood friend Brigit Eno – Brigit was the kind of friend who was willing to help you solve all of life’s mysteries, and was pretty sure she had a lot of the answers. To tell you the truth we were both just very creative and very eager be considered sophisticated by our friends.

Naive children we were not – we were poets, possibly on the verge of great beauty (as soon as the braces come off, the spots clear up, the boobs fill in, my mom lets me pick out my own clothes and someone can teach me to walk in heels, I’ll show them!!!), and most importantly we took ourselves seriously (you set yourself up for failure at 13 if you try and take yourself seriously, but everyone does).

The thing about Brigit is that, following her mother’s remarriage, she had moved to our neighborhood from another school – one where the other students were clearly twice as sophisticated as our lot, apparently they were basically like the cast of 90210 (a show I was NOT allowed to watch) only they weren’t all white and rich. Between Brigit’s wealth of knowledge and connections and my insatiable quest for knowledge we were fast friends, and by age 13 we had tackled first kisses and were preparing to enter high school, where we knew there was a much bigger issue to tackle, something called S-E-X. Here is what we heard from a friend of a friend whose older cousin knew the deal: Apparently people in high school do it all the time. In fact, they even did it at school, all over the place, in front of each other, we had this on good authority.

We spent many Saturday nights truth-or-dare quizzing everyone we knew trying to get the facts straight, highlighting passages in magazines, and watching films that might offer us some insight if we could manage to get them past her mother, who was worried about us growing up too fast, but slightly less mortifying to bring into a video store than my own parents.

I would say by the end of the summer we had some facts sorted out…

Facts About Sex According to My 13-Year-Old Self:

  1. It is actually true that some people have sex in their mouths. Seriously.
  2. Sex involves moving around, which goes against what I understood a few years ago when Barbie’s were placed face-to-face against one another for approximately a minute and a baby got made.
  3. People put their sperm into things so they don’t have babies. They call these things tampons.
  4. From a magazine article we concluded people touch each other’s ‘parts’, they don’t just remove clothes, stand close to each other and allow nature to take its course, as previously understood.
  5. There is something called a ‘boner’ that happens to boys. It sticks out.

Brigit and I and other girlfriends had also speculated on other possibilities, such as the what-goes-where issue, but mainly we had a lot of questions. Do people talk during (though my friend from the Catholic school was certain that nice girls close their eyes and say nothing, possibly kiss during), do you stay under the covers or would a boy really see you naked, what does a P look like, how exactly are boobs involved, and is it true boys sometimes pee in the girls V (one friend ASSURED us this is how sperm goes in). When Brigit announced her older half-sister was coming for a visit I was sure we had answers – this was the sister who had once told us all the precautionary advice we needed for kissing. Her sister arrived and set up in Brigit’s room, and a few days into the visit Brigit surfaced with answers.

We met in the park, gathered together on a blanket on a quiet grassy knoll, someone brought snacks their mother packed for our “picnic”, and someone had smuggled along a single cigarette. Sophisticated women that we were we prepared ourselves to finally learn The Truth. Her explanation went something like this:

It’s hard, the boy is, and it goes in (how? I donno, like a hotdog in a bun sort of. Oh.) And it moves around and you kiss with tongue. Then inside every girl is a red ball called a cherry and when it goes in the cherry explodes and there is blood EVERYWHERE (wait, really? Yes really, my sister told me!). Then it’s over and you go to sleep.

(Oh.)

Mystery solved. My facts about sex list could be completed. Yet somehow I suspected we were missing some important details. Nonetheless it was something to go on. It was like learning that Haley Mills played both characters in the original Parent Trap – shocking at first but quickly you see how non-earth-shattering and somewhat obvious it was all along. The exploding cherry was a worry, but as long as we were prepared it was better than the poor girls who went into things with no idea. I’d like to say this was the end of the obsession, but quite frankly it was merely the beginning, and now at 25 I am still going to great lengths to get as much information as possible, and we arrive at Sex Chaos.

I hope this month’s story tellers will help me fill in those gaps, until then perhaps a “game” of sorts – Chaos readers, please add to my list; “Facts About Sex from my Younger Self” (state the age you were when the fact seemed relevant, then present us with you best facts, myths and misunderstandings in the comments below). I look forward to some brilliant over-shares while we anticipate what things will be learned from Sex Chaos in February!

10 Responses to “Facts about S.E.X.”

  1. admin says:

    I’m not sure how old I was when I started or ceased to believe that the plastic tampon applicators all over the beach were condoms. I guess I heard adults mention that there were condoms all over the beach, and I guess the pastel-coloured tampon applicators were just more noticeable in the sand. I’m absolutely sure I tried to play with one at some point because deep down somewhere is the memory that even though it looks like it belongs in Barbie’s trousseau, I am most definitely NOT supposed to touch it.

    Looking back, I’m fairly sure that a plastic tampon applicator would be an ineffectual prophylactic.

  2. Joe says:

    When I was 12 someone explained to me that you can get FLAVOURED condoms! Now, being the cosmopolitan 12 year old that I was ,(the benefits inner city Waterford scumbags used to shag in our school yard leaving their condoms behind for us to poke with a stick till one of the teachers caught us) I already knew about condoms but FLAVOURED?

    Anyway – one of the lads explained how a flavoured one works. See, when the P went in the V, to use the Chaos parlance, special enzymes brought the flavour through the woman’s body to her tongue so she could taste the flavour. As wise as I was at 12, I did not realise that enzymes were catalysts and not magical flavour-carrying juices. To be fair I wouldn’t know what a catalyst was either, but like enzyme I imagine I would have conjured up something in my head that was what I thought a catalyst should be based on how the word sounds. Like the way I used to think a thesaurus was a dinosaur…but that’s a story for another day…

    • admin says:

      That is some interesting science right there, which we may just have to turn into a game. Alternate theories and all. Hm.

      But in Chaos parlance, it is neither ‘P’ nor ‘V’, we like to use the medical terms, winky and vajayjay. Or, as the Kardashians say, vagine (pronounced va-zheen).

  3. Amiee says:

    Nah Jane, I like P in the V. I am glad it’s catching on! Also my cousin thought one of my friends was cute but I had mentioned I was bringing along a friend who was gay, in order to clarify if she was into chicks or dudes he texted me (while we were all in a car together) “Does she like to put boy parts with girl parts or girl parts with girl parts?”. I nearly crashed the car but decided that is another acceptable way to describe the business of P’s and V’s. Although I like Vagine, I do not like any names for the boy parts that make it sound like a pet monkey. I am sensitive about pet monkeys you know.

    • admin says:

      That is not a pet, that is your CHILD. You are its MOTHER. That’s why when we pretend to make it talk by waggling its realistically-weighted noggin and creepily lifelike hands, Bryana calls you “MOMMY” in the sort of voice you imagine a baby monkey named after Canada’s second-finest export would use.

      Vagine is my favourite so far.

  4. Evelyn Walsh says:

    At age 12 I assumed that twins came from an overdose of sex, or at aged six asked did ‘Daddy have a magic wand – to make the baby grow in Mammy’s tummy. I was intensely disappointed with my first sexual experience ( at the ripe old age of 23) at the Rose of Tralee Festival with a young man (although older than me) who was at least four inches short in all directions, sang me the ‘Fields of Athenry’ (to relax me) with my legs up around hos shoulders as he pumped away – I felt NOTHING – except slight discomfor and stlll I bled. The hotel manager knocked on the door ‘Have Ye wimmin in there?’ The little hairy buster of my duckhad obviously decided he wanted the bed for himself for the balance of the night for he concurred that yes there was indeed a female personage in his room (unpaid for -on any level) so I was escorted from the hotel my bloodied knickers in hand with as much dignity as my stupid drunken self could muster. And we tanned fit and healthy in a lovel orange penneys matching top and shorts Well Fuck that I thought – I’m not bothering me arse with that crackagain!
    PS in my house growing up a vagina was a ‘lulu’ and a penis ..wait for it ‘a mickey-dooodle-dum-dum’

  5. Demure Lemur says:

    Aged 10, my friend Gráinne and I knew that when men had sex with women babies were made. Ergo, something must be made when women had sex with women or men had sex with men. We pooled all the knowledge that we could glean from books we weren’t allowed to read and telly we weren’t allowed to watch, and we concluded that when women had sex with women they could still get pregnant – but they couldn’t have baby boys – and when men had sex with men they got aids. This theory was widely disseminated.

  6. sasha says:

    I eventually came to understand that babies came from sex. No one ever explained that there were other reasons for having sex, and I clearly understood that each time the sex act occurred, Voila! a baby. When I was about 11, during some sort of semi-advanced birds and bees conversation, my mother referenced her “first time”. It was clear that her first time was not with my father.

    And so logic dictated.

    HOLY SHIT!! My mother has a secret other family and secret other children somewhere that she has been lying about for years! HOLY SHIT! It took several days (days of me not speaking to her) for her to convince me otherwise.

  7. Kizzy says:

    When I was 13 my friend told me “ he RAMPS his hairy Mick RIGHT up her hairy muff. Well I was scared for life.

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