misplaced mama

(First Mani and now Jeanette with this daily dose of words. How dare they unknowingly challenge me? I had no idea what they were talking about (because for someone who spends a lot of time in front of this screen, I am still what we call a cave girl. I went to this Holidailies site and then before you know it was I signing my life away. But it’s good. It’s so good. As a person who is finally feeling safe calling myself a writer, maybe it’s time I started writing. Daily.)

The most interesting thing on my mind right now is a person. Her name is Jamye Waxman and we graduated together from Binghamton University 10 years ago. She was one of my few but amazing girlfriends those four years there. We traveled to Jamaica together, puffed the largest spliff’s known to woman and swam with vibrant fish. She was a radio DJ on an all Grateful Dead show and used to dedicate versions of Saint Steven to me on air while my room mate and I drank Jim Beam and ginger-ales and listened in. She was the first person I knew who bunjee jumped. And even though she was in a sorority whose dress-code encouraged you to include colors like “dusty blue and cafe latte” and 10 different baseball caps, she always danced to the beat of her own drum; she had fabulous musical taste, an eye for unique fashion and her brain dined on fine literature. She had this sexy, raspy voice and long wavy auburn hair and her skin was milky and moon-like. More than anything she was smart, quick and funny. I knew she would be an important voice in the world. Her day is so here.

Jamye is a sexologist, a sex educator, an activist for the people’s rights to to do it and do it anyway and with whomever they want (consenting, of course) . Once again, it’s all about having access to education, informed and most importantly—inspirations! Celebrate and enjoy sex. It’s only how we all got here. And a big reason that makes me want to stay.

She is the president of Feminists For Free Expression, a group of women who work to preserve the right to “see, hear and produce materials of her choice without the intervention of the state for “her own good” (i.e. true sex education in schools, abortion and birth control literature, sex industry literature and film…). It was started in response to the efforts of groups who want books, music and movies banned.
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Besides being a producer for an adult erotic film, she writes for Playgirl, souldish.com and has a sex advice column in numerous publication. She’s like a real life Carrie Bradshaw! Her voice has been splashed across airwaves everywhere talking about what one might do to give good head to abortion laws. She is powerful. She is brave. She is challenging the way we are taught to think of our bodies and minds, she speaks of sex with the same passion I feel for a women’s right to birth the way she and her baby need; raw, passionate, normal, sexy, peaceful and safe. She is in Brooklyn and I am on the Hot Rock, but if we ever hang in the same place again, I feel some good conversations like why sex and eroticism has been been stolen from modern day birthing and why sex is being governed in our modern day life.

She’s currently writing a book about Masturbation and needs research. It’s a book with words straight from the mouths of women. If you want, you can take her survey (and do it under one of those pretend names) give her a peak into what you think about it and help her write a totally comprehensive book on Masturbation. We all do it. Don’t fool yourself. And if you don’t. You should try.

Her blog. (you can find the link and take her Masturbation Survey here! Fun! For GIRLS only.) Her website

I’ll leave with that. I write about Jamye because I must promote and highlight and shout out The Word of the amazing women that the spinning orb has pulled in (and out) my life for magnificent reasons. These women’s voices are being heard. Rad.

One love.