September 20th, 15:38 | On having a large green penis

So last Saturday saw me at my soon-to-be-a-mother and sooner-to-be-wed cousin's shower and stagette, and, lo, what a day it was. (I was exhausted the next morning, and hadn't time to eat before I had to hightail it out of there (via a ride, since my parents apparently have a problem with me parking overnight on the street in posh neighbourhoods) to make it to the Ultimate game which we totally lost.) What transpired, you ask? Well.

The shower was a pleasant affair full of the faux-subtle cross-clawing of not-too-close female relatives, and the helpless stares of family friends, followed by a tasty buffet, and more snide commentry as the gifts were opened. (In case you didn't realize folks, while Ikea doesn't have a registry service (yet), they DO offer gift certificates. I'm guessing many newlyweds would be fans. Just a guess.)

So how did I fare in this large-family-style social tango? Well, let's see. I bought my cousin a martini glass and pitcher set, because I figured that she lives in a small town, it'd be nice to entertain in style. (Also, she lives in a small town, and might need to hit the martinis on occasion.) I am greeted at the door (carrying her bulky, girly-ly wrapped gift) by the soon-to-be-bride herself wearing a bright yellow "baby on board" tag. Smooth, lilephyte. Gift the expectant mother with booze accessories. Social Blunder #1. I was then introduced to a whole mess of people I've never met with "Oh you know everyone"; they all nodded knowingly, I stared blankly. Social Blunder #2. I managed to eat without making too big a disgrace of myself, and the gift-opening really wasn't all that painful at all. (I busied myself with the maid of honour making the paper-plate hat; we made quite a classy hat, let me tell you.) After that, there were some innocuous games (and I maintain that the other half of the couple starting with "Fred" should be "Ginger", not "Wilma") and then we were shooed over to The Stagette. Well.

Far fewer people, much more relaxed atmosphere, infinitely more easily accessible candy. I was already feeling much better. By this point we were down to the youngish friends of my cousin, her sister, her aunt, her younger cousin + friend (both of whom were underage, but brought vodka along for the show), and yours truly. We had general girly discussions, dragged up dirt on the bride-to-be, ordered pizza and were contemplating which of the girly movies to watch first later when the "entertainment" arrived. (For the record, we went with Dirty Dancing. It was fantastic; like watching it with my froshlings again.)

So, the Entertainment. It wasn't a stripper. No, no, it was a friendly-looking woman with like 18 giant tupperware boxes who came in, assured us she wasn't going to strip, then sat down and started telling us about her sexual history, before proceeding to give us a show-and-tell of her 18 tupperware boxes worth of sex toys.

She was about two sentences into her opening spiel when I started thinking "Is that... is she who I think she is?", and yes, yes she was. The lady was the founder of my town's premiere woman-oriented sex toy emporium and that meant only one thing: that my cousin's maid of honour totally stole my idea for a stagette activity. (Well, except that I was going to go for the "how to give head" workshop, rather than the "sex toys 101" workshop.)

The presentation was awesome. I was surprised by how reserved people were though. Seriously. Of the nine girls there I was the only one who tried the strap-on (the dildo was neon green, the straps were sparkly blue), and probably the only one who didn't blush when she started her "I'd like to talk a little about butt play" topic.

I must say, it rather confirmed my impression that guys have kind of a Disney situation to deal with on a daily basis. I found it interesting, because the speaker had been saying that society still puts so much power in the penis as a symbol. So as I stood there (posing, because apparently the other girls wanted pictures of a girl in a strap-on, but not themselves) I was thinking about it from the power perspective and honestly? I can kind of see where that thought comes from, but it's not one I relate to inherently. I felt relatively comfortable, but not more powerful. I felt that I was too noticeable, drawing too much attention to myself for that. I much prefer the subtler, feminine power that I associate with women in general. It suits me better. And that thought, that I fit better in my own skin under the "woman" label, was a pretty nice feeling to take away from the evening. So I'm really glad I went.

After that, there was much buying of merch (so many books!), ice cream, girly movies, insufficient sleep in a sleeping bag, the constant fear of basement bugs. All in all, a good weekend.

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