Whip out the glitter gun! There's just 22 card-making days left 'til MY birthday and I invite YOU to send me your very best birthday card.
In Bed with Susie Bright #239: The Boomer Wench Years
I love birthday cards, postcards... and it's a shame one doesn't seem to get as many of them after you hit 18... and here I am, just turning 19, afraid of an empty mailbox!
This year, I thought I could roll out my greedy plan with a tiny contest: send me a birthday greeting, and I will reward my favorites with autographed copies of Best American Erotica 2006.
You know I can't resist.
You can email your handmade card to me, at: susie at susiebright dot com.
Or, you can snail mail me one, that's even more fun. My address is POB 8377, Santa Cruz, CA 95061.
With my 48th birthday around the corner, I find myself wondering: Am I a MILF? On TV and tabloids, the MILFs look like heavily doctored devotees of Nip/Tuck... and I sure don't look like a desperate bookwife. On the internet, the most heavily trafficked MILF sites feature women who look like they're in their 20s, but who've been smoking and drinking heavily.
Yet that one word, MILF, comes up every single day on my blog's "most searched for keywords."
It's interesting the expression comes from a teenage boys' point of view. If women created it for their own interests, it would have been: "Moms Who'd Like To..."— MWLTF. Unpronounceable, to be sure. But things DO get more complicated when you're in charge.
Why didn't this acronym exist when I was a kid? Back then, I would have called that kind of woman a "Mrs. Robinson," from Anne Bancroft's performance in The Graduate. She was kinda creepy and threatening, even if she did have those LEGS. I was immersed in my "youth world," where truly, you didn't trust anyone over 30, and you certainly didn't want to have sex with them.
I'm thinking of some of the women I used to babysit for... they were the moms of those skaters you see in Lords of Dogtown, surfer-chick moms, divorced moms with ex's in the music/film business, reformed rock groupies. (I lived in West LA).
Come to think of it, many of them were pretty, stylish—I wanted their clothes— and sexually active. But they were with men their own age or older. Sure, maybe their teenage sons had pals who swooned and masturbated over them secretly, but the emphasis was on SECRET.
Am I naive? I remember sharing a kiss with a good-looking brawny surfer who I then pushed away when he blurted out he was only 15. "I'm too old for you, this is wrong," I said, profoundly shaken up— at 17.
In honor of lustrous wisdom and hidden allure, I'm reading a story on the show today from BAE 2006, called "Granny Pearls," by Salome Wilde, an erotic tale about what happens to some precious beads who thought life might have passed them by.
Finally, in my Try This At Home mailbag, I answer a letter from a woman who wonders if female porn stars really do have orgasms "at work."
P.S. Do you like my "magazine cover"? I made it myself with a free digital photo link-toy, called FlagrantDisregard.
Don't forget, you can send your birthday wishes, confidential sex questions, and feedback about the show to: susie at audible dot com. (Episode 239, March 3, 2006).
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