this is an email i just received from someone i haven't talked to in over a decade.
a long long time ago.
is this the same justin that lived in issaquah, wa in the four creeks development and one summer you, sarah and i took turns making out in a tent in my front yard?
if so, this is kathryn. i dont know if you even remember me, but that summer lingers in the back of my mind. ha ha. we were such weird little kids.
also if this is still you, how is your sister? she was the first person i smoked pot with. i was in the 5th grade. she was pretty cool.
~~~
Addendum 6/5/10:
That was the summer of 1991 or 1992. You remember the year, when little homosexual boys made out with heterosexual girls by the handful, in tents, as if the action wasn't a mental interest-only loan. Needless to say, that bubble has long burst. I was only about eleven years old and completely naive about my sexuality. I knew nothing. That summer's learning uncovered age-related earth shattering conclusions such as that an erection didn't mean that I had to pee. The reality of ejaculation wouldn't be learned until a romantic evening with a jetted tub during a family vacation in Whistler. There was no discovery that year, however, that what I really preferred was a throbbing penis to a moist vagina.
The reality is that the majority of that summer was spent perched atop the narrow brick pillars at the entrance of our neighborhood. Sarah and I balanced, peeking over her backyard fence into her parents' bedroom trying to figure out just how sex was done. We would talk about whatever eleven-year-old peeping tom's talked about for hours on end while we waited. When the glorious moment finally came, it was a complete guessing game. It took place half a football field away, entirely under sheets and was lit by the only streetlight in the neighborhood. The only thing that was certain was that a lot of heavy petting and making out was involved. From there, we took to the tent.
In hindsight I'm not sure we were "such weird little kids." In my sentiment I like to imagine American youth as all being like us during that moment of sexual discovery, balancing on pillars in the dark, getting it all wrong, and having to pee.
