one year ago today two years ago today the evolving entries collaborative entries webrings and 'burbs translate this page yesterday | 'morrow _________________ Wednesday 6 October 99 1 11 pm edt The collab topic this month for Writing in the Sand is: The Loss of Your Virginity I don't want to write about this.   I don't want my mother to read this.   I don't want my future children to read this.   Mom and kids, don't read this!   But it is the right month, so here is is.   Today is the day that I lost my virginity years ago.   The day was 6 October 1994, 2 months to the day before my 17th birthday.   I lost my virginity to David.   He once asked me why I chose him.   He was in the right place at the right time.   If it wasn't him, it would have been someone else.   My hormones were a-raging at the time.   In fact, I can't really identify with how I thought/felt about sex back then.   I look back on it as someone would remember a psychotic episode; I remember, but I can't relate. All I wish to say about the details of the event, is that I remember looking at a nail on the wall and thinking I'm having sex ofr the first time and I'm looking at a nail on the wall. I think that yong adults are made to feel guilty for wanting and having sex, and I think that is wrong.   Procreation is our biological goal and certainly the desire to have sex is the most profound drive human experience.   I don't feel like ranting about this, but all I can say is that it was going to happen at the time. David and I had a typical emotionally abusive relationship.   But we also were incredible lovers.   We made sex an art form.   And I believe that regret is a useless feeling; if you learn from your past, the experience was worth it. 6 09 pm edt I find something very romantic about the ads taken out on the back page of city newspaper publications.   The first time I saw this form of communication was in Desperately Seeking Susan (1985).   I thought it was wonderful.   Los Angeles has (or perhaps had) two free [popular] weekly publications: LA Weekly and LA Reader.   I read the Reader -- the less popular of the two -- rather religiously for a time in high school, mostly because I loved News of the Weird.   At Berkeley I would always pick up the Guardian if only to check out the Superlist [because of my obsession with lists.   Now I have managed to locate The Village Voice, and I would like to share a collection of messages from last week's back page (with my personal commentary): Meryl, I am sorry. I was overwhelmed and completely lost it. Tim Tim obviously knows her well; he must know that she reads the Voice. He told her off, or he just stopped returning her calls? Did she move? Why not mail her this message, or leave it on her answering machine? Does an apology have more power or seem more sincere if you make it publicly? Border case H'Boro, page me at 800-517-79xx, M-F, 9am-6pm Is this message directing at one person or a group of people? It is much too cryptic for me to decifer. Note to admirers: make a less cryptic message when leaving one for me... AMBER - We met at The Community Table at Angelica's. you survived Burning Man, got your message, sadly you left no number - Steve B. Steve, perhaps she didn't leave her number on purpose. Perhaps she was being polite, and calling because she said she would but she doesn't really like you. You give her the creeps, and stalking her via the newspaper won't help matters. THANK YOU ST. JUDE Is this message supposed to inspire devout worship? Looking for female from flight 814 NW Air arriving Fri 9/17 at 11:55pm, LeGuardia. Age 25-30, brown hair, cream pants & black shirt, sitting on baggage caousel. Please call (212) 667-05xx, lv msg if no answer. Even if you don't believe in fate, one can probably guess that this wasn't meant to be. I personally would not remember what I was wearing on a plane flight several weeks ago. And then there is the leave a massage thing. This means that this is his voice mail number, and he specifically gave it out so that she would have to leave her number for him. I hate when guys do that. RON D. - WHERE ARE YOU? CALL ME ANNIE (I HAVE YOUR LAMPS AND BOOKSHELVES) I would be rather distraught about losing track of a friend, but I would hope that I wouldn't have to bribe them into calling me by mentioning the furniture I was storing for them or borrowing from them. Annie, if he wanted his lamps, he would have called you. Well, that was it for last week.   This week there is an apology, a request for Alan from South Street to write, and a birthday message.   These announcements make me nostalgic for old forms of communication.   I am wishing that womeone would send me a telegram just about now. 10 55 pm edt Tonight I up uploaded some images from my most recent film.   If I had the server space and if more people had the bandwidth, I would upload the whole movie.   I do eventually hope to make a webified version of each of my movies.   Another project in my pocket...   Rachel's Daily Diary | evolving entries | yesterday | month | tomorrow