Mortified. Appropriate.

One such speaker struck a chord. I related to her painful story, her desperate need to simultaneously be understood and left the fuck alone by her mother, and her Level 99 jeans that I tried on at Anthropologie last season but never bought. (I sat front and center – necessity, not choice – and could see my reflection in her jeans' giant buttons.)

Ms. K shared with the crowd a glossary of terms that she and her main ho/best friend developed to allow them stealthy discussion of sexual acts without their nosy mothers figuring them out. They called it the Sexual Code, and I'm in the process of submitting these to Merriam-Webster for inclusion in some kind of printed reference material.

From the diary:

7 January, 1991

Neville and I made up this awesome sexual code:

woman's area or else virgin

man's area


kissing with tongue

manual lower naughty things

 roaming about but not in the area

 anything anal

 only top clothed

 only bottom clothed

 hand job

 stopping you from going further

performed on female

performed on male

 no finger penetration

actual finger penetration


masturbating together

K is meticulously specific when it comes to areas of the body, roaming vs. local, and stimulation location. But when it comes to Alabama, anything goes.

And that's why Ms. K and I are gonna be BFFs…just as soon as I can track down her name and 900-number.

Image: Gregory Szarkiewicz.

LA Weekly