Like a Virgin

Okay, I've got nothing that I really want to talk about with this one, so I'm just going to type and see what comes up. I'll see if this is worth posting when I'm done (or I'll just post it and let it go at that).

It reminds me of one of my dad's off-color jokes:

A woman in her 70s is brought in for questioning during the McCarthy trials. (Thank you Wisconsin).
The sweet, innocuous woman asks why she's been brought in.
The interrogators tell her it is because she's suspected of being a communist.
She asks why, and is told that her passport shows she's traveled to the USSR.
Her response:
"I've been to the Virgin Islands, too."

My dad told it better. I'm not a good joke teller.

Like a Virgin reminds me of why I liked being in school. And no, it wasn't about the sex. It was the beginnings. You could start new at the beginning of each term -- promise yourself that you would do everything right this term, get the readings done, start early on projects and papers, be the best student you could be. It was even more prevalent at the beginning of each school year -- making promises to yourself that you knew in your heart you would not keep. Starting over.

I guess, to some degree, you get to do that at the beginning of each new relationship, too. Which I guess is the point of the Madonna song -- you may have been down this road before, but it was with a different person, and therefore the whole experience of the road will be different this time. Hmmm. Road metaphors and sex. Done that before.

At one point, Susan and I had a long discussion about the different ways that men and women seem to experience sex. It turned into a car metaphor, involving speeds, warming up, going the distance......we are masters of the extended metaphor. Cathy's getting pretty good, too.

Which, all in all, has nothing to do with being touched like the very first time. Is that a good thing? If I remember back to high school (and I try not to), fumbling around in my boyfriend's Hyundai Excel, a car most certainly purchased by his parent to insure that there was no way their 6'2" son was going to have sex in his car (it worked), the very first touching isn't all that memorable and impressive. How could it be? No one has a clue what it is they're doing. Experience is good, if you learn from it. Not everyone does, unfortunately.

Anyways, I don't look all that great in white. I have no desire to play dress up in brides' gowns. Ick. I don't want to ever fake that I am virginal property being bartered off. The feminist in me opposes most wedding symbolism, even if the need to public ally recognize a private bond is an important thing for many people. It is beyond willing suspension of disbelief to believe that the bride, who has been living with her fiancé for 5 years, is a virgin on her wedding day. And does it really matter? That would be her choice, yes? That said, some people look great in white and should wear it if it suits them.

Sometimes I guess it surprises me that with all the different strides made in demolishing many gender roles (it is now acceptable for women to be career-driven and for men to be care-givers, for the most part, although it's not easy to buck the "traditions") that this central celebration in many people's lives has seen so little change or even scrutiny. If a couple intends to build a life that differs from their parents' lives, which most of my generation sees as ideal, would they not be interested in creating a ceremony that reflects that? And I don't mean a touch of personality in the traditional ceremony. I mean recreating it. If you are not a religious person, why get married in a church?

Another way in which I am often confused about the way people think about things. Or don't seem to think about them, as the case may be.

My apologies for a Madonna-influenced post that had little to do with sex. I hate to disappoint.