That last post stirred up some other memories from that strange year that I was 15. It's amazing that my two younger sisters (J, 14 and M, 13)and I survived it. My mother gave us virtually no guidance (except that we should not actually let a man fuck us until we were married), no restrictions and no supervision. She had enough to do, trying to support us and her sister and her two little urchins. She also had to manage her various boyfriends, who drifted into and out of our lives. So, J, & I (M wasn't interested yet) were free to roam the streets of L.A., day or night, go to movies and pick up boys (and men), bring boys (and men) home, neck with boys (and men) downstairs in the yard, go to boys' (and men's) homes, and any other adventures we encountered. My first "date" was with a Japanese man in his thirties whom I had met in a Folk Dance club. He had taught me to dance the tango, which was crazy sexy, and awakened, ahem, womanly feelings in me. Now I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't let my 15 year-old daughter go out with a 37 year-old man. But it was AOK with Mom. No curfew, no instructions, feh!
I'm getting irritated. I better finish this tomorrow, after I've had a few glasses of wine.