It's like Sex and the Suburbs and 30 Rock all rolled into one…
When I was about twelve or so, I had my first romantic sort of dream. It wasn’t by any means erotic, but it definitely that sign that said “Hey girl, you’re like… a girl or something and romantic relationships are interesting to you.” At twelve, I had already gotten the sex-talk. When in the 6th grade, there was a girl who had gotten herself pregnant the summer before, and my parents felt that if my bus-mates were preggers than I probably should be told what sex was. And intellectually I knew that tab A was inserted into slot B and that’s how babies were made. (Come to find out it’s infinitely more complicated, even in the physical logistics alone without even thinking of the emotional.) Still, I hadn’t blossomed yet; I still wasn’t sure what to do with boys – or girls for that matter! (And it would take years and years more. I’m a late bloomer.)
My dream was simple – I was a Starfleet officer and Commander Riker was being held by Romulans, which we all know are the more interesting of the villainous species in the Star Trek universe. Through guile and cunning, I was able to free him. There was a phaser fight and, because I was fencing, a duel between me and the Romulan Sub-Commander. It’s hazy, so I don’t quite remember the details, but I was heroic. And I returned the handsome first officer to a very concerned Captain Picard. After the adventure, Riker shook my hand and offered to buy me a club soda. It was fairly innocent, there was perhaps a twinge of disappointment when he didn’t kiss me, but no sex or even real touching – not even a hug! However, it probably is partially the reason why I am fond of beards on men.
But I think more importantly, it was then that I realized that I was perhaps an entity with a sex drive. I wasn’t sure about it, not yet, certainly not at twelve years old, but the inklings were there. Oh, and it certainly defined me as a geek.