SEXY ON TUESDAYS
BY ALIX MENDOZA
WELCOME WELCOME
to to SEXY SEXYon onTUESDAYS TUESDAYS
We are past self-discovery. We have arrived at self-portraiture. And we ’ re making it cute.
We made it! The first issue! And you’re wondering what is Sexy on Tuesdays?
Sexy on Tuesdays is a mantra. A force to tap into when feeling rather unsexy.
Why Tuesday? Mondays are boring. Wednesdays are jam-packed. Thursdays dread and Fridays promise chaos. Saturday and Sunday are meant for being in the sun or being in bed. But Tuesdays, Tuesdays are motivation and movement.
Walk with me.
I feel my best on a Tuesday. I’m conquering the to-do list and pep-talking. I’m accomplishing. The rest of the week is still ahead of me on a Tuesday. The opportunities are limitless.
I created Sexy on Tuesdays (SOT) to share that incredible feeling of flow and development This is an invitation. SOT is a haven and playground. I am here to create an authentic impassioned body of work and set it free. SOT is a mixed-media digital magazine without limitations.
This is unchaining. We are past self-discovery. Past judging ourselves on what we couldn’t or wouldn’t. And have arrived at selfportraiture And we’re making it cute
I ask you to join me on this journey as I find my way in artistry Writing. Photography. Design. It’s my deepest joy, but I have so much to learn. Thank you for being here. I appreciate it more than you know. I hope you’ll stick around.
KISS ME ACT ONE
27 LIPSTICK 27 LIPSTICK BUT NO ONE BUT NO ONE TO KISS TO KISS LIPSTICK TO
II"I am pro-kiss even when my circumstances may not be."
have 27 lipsticks but no one to kiss. 6 lip liners, 4 glosses, 3 stains, 3 tinted chapsticks, and 1 lip mask. You better believe I keep this pretty girl routine locked and loaded. They are
primed, plumped, and ready to pucker.
And yet, I remain kissless.
Strawberry Chapstick
Let’s take it back to 2005. My first kiss was on the back of the bus in the 8th grade with my first boyfriend, T. Kirk. He didn’t talk much, a shy boy with that timeless charming shy boy smile. Naturally, I was obsessed with Mr. Kirk The Speechless. I wasn’t worried about making conversation. Between the two of us, I had enough personality to fill the silence.
At 13 years old you don’t know you’re projecting fantasies onto people All I knew was he mysterious and sweet a plain canvas, ripe with potential And in my pubescent mind, the start of my new life I was now a girlfriend and he would be my first kiss
We’re sitting. Staring at each other, with blank faces and sweaty palms.
Hormonal preteens are cheering “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
It’s cinematic and obnoxious You think you know pressure? Try having your first romantic slash sexual experience be watched and judged by the popular kids and you need to do it now because his bus stop is in two minutes.
We lean in with a tiny open-mouthed pucker. Not a peck or a closed-lipswrinkle, but a wet open clumsy kiss. A string of saliva clings and swings as we pull away. Cruel Intentions style. There it was. We swapped DNA. We hard-launched our relationship in front of the entire world. And should there be any nay-sayers that we actually touched lips, the saliva swaying between us like a clothesline was good enough evidence.
We wipe our mouths Humiliating “Yucks” and “ews” were groaned Rumors swirling Kids file off the bus just “chit chit chit ” And there goes my beloved This was my first kiss and the last day Mr Kirk was my boyfriend Was it the kiss? Was it too wet? Should I have used tongue? I’ll never know, but I assume Catalina lobbied
that she could do whatever I could do better.
Au revoir Mr. Kirk.
He’s a distant character to me now. He’s no guest star, but there is honor in playing the first romantic role on my path to womanhood Albeit a background character, but work is work The universe sent me a harmless boy to get this milestone over with so I could get to work There was a whole life waiting for me on the other side
The next phase: The Lover Girl. (See also Boy Crazy.)
Watermelon Lip Smacker Gloss
I was a bit of a dork in junior high, class clown coded I still managed to have a flair for “falling in love ” As we walked to the busses at the end of the day, there’d be Coach Fazekas waving his goodbyes He’d see me holding hands with some boy and shout “Dang Mendoza! Another boyfriend? Who’s on deck for next week?” I miss that man.
I was in honor roll up until freshman year. Absorbing information in lectures was gravy. It was the textbook reading that got me. We wouldn’t find out until college that I had been struggling with Dyslexia. It should’ve been obvious when I dropped all of my AP classes. But, we chalked up my declining grades to being a “social butterfly” and a little “boy crazy.”
The kiss highlights boil down to being sneaky and less class-clowny. After a football game I jumped right into the arm’s of C Harper, still in his game uniform Pheromones from the big game heading into the school dance, I planted a big kiss on him He planted a tonguey one right back
The sneak is, Mr Harper was my very good friend’s recent ex-boyfriend A mutual break-up, but a mild betrayal nonetheless. My first taste of “this is very shitty of me.” She forgave me.
There’s the summer I had a secret boyfriend, and my best friend Kenzie had to drive me to all of our dates. The time I kissed T. Atkinson in the back of a theatre class I wasn’t enrolled in. And the time I lied to my parents about going to a metal show hours away from home.
My friend’s death metal band was playing a show in Newport Beach, a couple hours north of San Diego They rented a school bus to take us all to the show Myself, Kenzie, 2 other girls, and about 20 boys waited for the bus in a Wal-Mart parking I told my parents I was going to the drive-in for a double feature, something I did often This would account for travel time and I could easily fib about the movies I saw.
Well, the bus went to the wrong East County Wal-Mart. We were going to be at least an hour late for the show thus late getting home. Meaning, I was going to get grounded into my 30's. Kenzie decided the wait wasn’t worth it, so she bailed. It was just me, 2 girls, and a gaggle of grungy teenage boys on this bus to Groundtown. I had to make it worth it.
On the ride up I met College Boy. He was two grades above me, a former football player, studying engineering at Cal-Poly, and very very cute I hit the jackpot We talked the entire way to the show I lost myself in la-la-land blinking my big doe eyes at this big ol’ hunk; I completely forgot about my impending doom
Cue the music Hardcore pig squeal screaming starts us off. My friend and his sweaty long locks are shredding on the guitar. It’s as if the grungy hair possesses a heathen-like power to send teenage boys into feral mode. I’m backing away from the savagery that is the mosh pit. I may appreciate a good double pedal, but I am not at all interested in punching for fun.
Too bad, too late. I got whacked in the face so hard, my earrings popped
out. A few seconds of cartoon dizziness, I see my earrings on the floor, I wobble to grab them and bolt to the bathroom
There it was: a fat lip
Not only am I going to be late, I’m coming home looking like my shit got rocked.
The ride home was miserable. Instead of stopping to use a restroom like reasonable human beings, the boys thought it best to pee in Monster cans. This was the economical choice as it prevented them from going over their rental time. Don’t worry, they didn’t keep the cans. They threw them out the window on the freeway, like welladjusted human beings.
To air out the putrid urine smell, the windows needed to stay down the entire drive back. So now I’m freezing, on top of being swollen Oh! And there goes my voice can’t talk I’m on a bus ride from hell, leaving a night in hell, going home to more hell And there’s College Boy over there, staring at me
He sits next to me Inching his hands to my thigh. I’m thinking, “There’s no way he’s still into me with this huge blood balloon hanging out my mouth. I sound like the penguin from Toy Story 2. And I’m getting a cold. He wouldn’t. Would he?”
Boy was I wrong. Fat lip, wheezy voice, urine smell? It didn’t matter. We did what all horny teenagers do on a school bus ferociously make-out. There I go, just kissing another boy on
"The kiss highlights boil down to being sneaky..."
“I especially never forgot my worth coming into question by something as innocuous as a kiss.”
another school bus. (A signature of mine.) My lip hurt the entire time.
If you can believe it, the night does not end on a good note. In my post make-out session nap, College Boy announces to the bus that I gave him a blowjob. Not true, but damage is done. I arrive several hours after curfew, and of course my parents are waiting for me. I tell them I smacked myself in the face by yanking my purse out of the car, hence the fat lip They take that to mean I got into a street fight, and ground me on the spot for 2 months
Don’t kiss boys on buses folks!
Cover Girl Wannabe Pink
In 2009 I visited Kenzie in college. Aurora, Illinois is an hour away from Chicago and smack dab in the middle of purgatory. This California girl found herself in endless flatlands of snow, in what I would call Frat-BoyRacist-Ville. Rolls off the tongue, I know.
Watching TV with her roommates a chewing gum commercial came on. Dentyne or maybe Orbit. It claimed the average person has 14 first kisses in their life. At the time, at age 18, I already met that. Kenzie too. And wouldn’t you know, her conservative roommates called us sluts for having kissed 14 people already They all claimed to have had less than five
Sure Jan.
My question is, how many of those moments do I have left? How many first kisses will I have in my life? How many first dates, first breakfasts, first family meets? How many loves will I have?
That stuck with me.
Maybe it was being slut-shamed by people I knew wouldn’t like me the moment I walked in the door. Maybe it was the frat party that followed, where the boys wore pajamas and the girls wore bodycon dresses in below-freezing temperatures. But I never forgot that trip I never forgot the boys giving me dirty looks for wearing a long-sleeved shirt to a party in the middle of winter I never forgot being asked if I was a lesbian before being asked my name, because of said long-sleeved shirt I especially never forgot my worth coming into qu innocuous as a made me feel g me. I couldn’ undertones, be kiss a person? because I can p something else Is it my skin
Is my lack of p frat boys are an meet bothersom because I kiss? it? It’s supposed 14 first kis slang saliva all 14 memories o where the univ to feel in a little
Kenzie is married now A career woman A mother She is guaranteed to be kissing at least two men for the rest of her life: her husband and her son. I am happy and relieved for her. She deserves love and loyalty. A restful home with people who adore her. She deserves forehead kisses and “I love you mommy” kisses. “Thanks for picking up the groceries” and “Goodnight Mama” kisses.
I can’t even imagine what that feels like. A gentle peck from this tiny being you made. Your spitting image reflecting the love you give right back. Your heart must grow a thousand caverns to hold all those beats of love when your child kisses you. It seems healing beyond scientific measure I bet a parent would tell you they can barrel through a mountain after getting a little cute kiss on the cheek from mini-me
Motherhood is still far off the map for me Who knows if I will make that summit? Life likes to toss me around
Red Maybelline Lip Stain
Kissing my first love is hazy. Drunk at a house party, we helped ourselves to a box of brownie mix Our intention was to bake them for everyone Did we end up doing that? I don’t remember What stands out to me is cry laughing on the floor after realizing he’d never baked a day in his life. He didn’t know what a tablespoon was.
It’s always the goofy ones I find the most charming sweet, a little dumb, can make friends with anybody. We had been buddies for a while, but this was the first he and I spent time alone. I liked the sound of his laugh. I liked that I could make him laugh. On that kitchen floor eating brownie batter off a mixer, I knew it then. This boy was going to mean something to me.
Later that night he knocked on my bedroom door asking if I wanted to “watch a movie.” The whole party had fallen asleep And here he is at 2 am pleading to come in and “Pop in a VHS No funny business ”
I let him in I wanted him to It was wholesome after all Plus, he was one of those quiet but funny types He
didn’t say much, but when he did it was always a banger. So, him asking to come in and watch a movie with me was actually really brave of him
I don’t know what was said before, after, or who made the first move But, I do remember Ace Ventura playing in the background The rhino scene His choice, of course
We made out all night. I woke up with a cluster of hickeys. Luckily, in 2010 scarves were very much in fashion. Wrapping my neck in a loop scarf was very trend and saved me from inspection. My parents had zero clue.
Imagine making out with Jim Carrey screaming in the background. It’s as goofy as it can get. And I love that for my younger self. She was having fun, she was safe. She was with someone who made her giggle. It set the stage for our entire relationship: a spirited youthfulness despite the growing pains of entering adulthood
Looking back, I am so grateful knowing for a time in my life I was truly in love with my best friend But such as it was, relationships end No betrayal No ultimatums Just 2 kids growing up in different lanes
Pop of Orange & Chocolate Lip Liner
I used to joke that I would be the rich aunt who traveled the globe and had boyfriends all over the world. That was a front, obviously. My cheeky way of saying to the world, “I am actually afraid I will never find true love and grow old with my favorite person. So, I’ll just have many halfway loves instead.”
The last person I kissed, I fell in love with. Kissing him was like opening the door into a warm log cabin in the middle of winter. Soup is on the stove, a blanket is waiting for me He greets me with a hug that heals a bad day Kissing him was medicine I was ready to be more than half way with him He
was not
Immovable object, unstoppable force
I still wonder what a good healthy love we’d have, had he’d been loved well as a child. Had he’d been taught to accept kindness and support, I imagine we’d have a long life of neverending giggles and gifts. Kisses in between chores and hugs to shoo off a bad mood. A shame really.
Tears well up when I think about the love lost. Yet I am grateful for him, however short his story aligned with mine. He reminded me what warmth felt like. Tenderness. How even in silence, your eyes can speak a thousand words of affection.
He reminded me a simple forehead kiss can soften any of life’s blows It can awaken your being, invigorating the forgotten happiness waiting to be witnessed He reminded me to love with excitement and curiosity With bravery
I hope he finds his way back to softer shores, before the turmoil and hurricanes. Before those who were meant to guide him jumped ship. When someone touches your heart with uncomplicated generosity, you realize how easy it is to be kind to yourself. If he can be loving to me without judgement or agenda, why can’t I do the same for myself? If I can be open to his growth, his healing, his journey, why can’t I allow myself the same grace?
We want to give love, and be loved
“It can awaken your being, invigorating the forgotten happiness waiting to be witnessed.”
so much. Yet, when it is reflected back it shines a bright floodlight on all the indulgent habits you attempt to hide. All the ways you sabotage yourself are revealed when someone loves you well It take audacious vulnerability to step into that light It takes integrity and accountability to let it follow you across the stage All of this discovery unraveled by a kiss
Overnight Lip Mask
I am now 32. Have nearly tripled the amount of first kisses. I’ve added techniques to my repertoire. And with some grown-woman flair, my lips don’t just kiss. They beckon. They scream. Demand.
My lips beg.
Beg to be heard. Really listened to. Not out of desperation; out of yearning to share. Vulnerability. You thought this was a piña colada ad? “Woman seeking Man. Meet at Midnight.” Honey, I’m looking for softness
I believe this world could use more softness Romance More lover boys and girls More thoughtfulness Goofy, playful moments of freedom Intimacy with someone nice and cute Preferably without the Greek chorus of preteens chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” But I’ll allow school buses to remain a suitable location.
My kissing ritual looks a lot different these days. I don’t just pick any guy
out of a line-up. Nor do I change suitors every few weeks, sorry Coach. I have standards and practices now, including a thorough screening process with checks and balances The path to kissing me takes a lot longer than a 2hour bus ride
And I think that’s good
I can survive being kissless for a while. I have enough memories to keep me chuckling. The bad ones keep me sober and on the straight and narrow. The good ones remind me I got natural swag. More cuties are coming my way.
I’m not worried about the kissing, because the kissing is not really about kissing. It’s about getting close. Being brave enough to bask in someone else’s energy. It’s about allowing time to stop and just being seen by someone.
Kissing is about being free.
Morning Lip Balm
Looking at my collection of lip – reds, mauves, pinks, oranges, browns, I see the evolution o womanhood here The nude col began with, not wanting to draw much attention The reds, wh decided I was kind of a bad girl C definitely pull off a leather jacket.
The Mauves and pinks, wh opened myself up to romance. T idea that I could be the ingénue girl that gets the guy. And the burn
oranges and toasty browns, where I feel most like myself: funky with a side of saucy, down to earth with a spunky appeal. They’re all me.
I respect lessons each color taught me Wearing lipstick is an homage to the little girl who wanted so badly to be grown She wanted adventure, love, and excitement She wanted the drama of a break up She wanted freedom to decide who she was on her own terms, on her own time.
It’s not just makeup. It’s badges of womanhood I’ve earned through trials and tribulations, of being a god damned human being who falls in love with men. It is my right and calling card.
I am ready to be kissed! I am prepared for a moment of energizing stillness, but I am not waiting. I will glow with or without it. I am pro-kiss even when my circumstances may not be. And I think you should be too.
You may fumble. You may be slut-
