TMI Tuesday

Alright, it's been awhile since I attempted a TMI Tuesday, but I figured, why not? Sometimes I like the prompts and feel pretty inspired to go into great detail. Other weeks, I look at the questions and wonder how I'm even going to give more than one word answers. But, then, I guess that's the challenge, right?

1. How old is your longest living relative? 

My grandmother-in-law is in her late 80's.

2. Do you hope to live to this age? Why? 

Sure...why not? I'd hope to live beyond that, as long as I'm healthy enough to be independent. She's amazing. She still lives on her own, volunteers, takes care of livestock. In fact, it's likely that fierce independence and self-reliance, plus activities to busy herself, are the things that keep her going.

3. What is your family’s native language? Your native language?

English.

4. How old were you when you started dating?

I was 14 when I went on my first date. But, my parents didn't really realize it was a date. It was more a church-related event, but we were definitely there simply to be together. I guess my parents believed it was "safe" because it was church-sponsored and there would be adults around. Things was, we found plenty of time and privacy to make out, anyway.

I could "officially" date at 15. But, that was just because my parents liked my boyfriend at the time, and he had been willing to hang out at my house watching movies and having dinners over to get to know them. Because they trusted him (silly parents), they let me go out before I was 16, which was their original age restriction. He was almost two years older than me at the time.

5. How old were you when you first had sex–any kind of sex? 

Hmmm...the "any kind" qualification makes this hard to answer. I was likely 13 when I first was fingered. Not sure if that counts. I gave my first hand-job when I was 15...and my first blow job at 15, as well. I don't remember him ever reciprocating orally (in fact, that didn't happen into well into my 20's), but we had "actual" sex when I was 16...in his bedroom...in a double-wide trailer...in a rather unfortunate trailer park, with his mother passed out in the living room. He ran a bubble bath afterward and carried me to it. I remember sitting in it with him, noticing the peeling flooring and cracked counter-top. I remember thinking he was so much better than what he had been born into. And I was so utterly in love with him then. We went our separate ways a few years later, but we are still in contact...and he's still a good dude.

Bonus: How would you describe your sense of humor? Pure sarcasm. Inappropriate. NSFW. Juvenile.