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The shift in our speech habits went unnoticed until my mother began receiving telephone calls from the other mothers in the neighborhood who were concerned that we were running a porn killing the buddha ring from our suburban address. As I grew older, my mother became more and more perplexed by me. While killing the buddha our weekly trips to the library were enormously entertaining to her, they also allowed killing the buddha her to keep tabs on my ever-changing interests without ever once having to ask me, straight out, "What the hell are you thinking?" She would sift through my selections chuckling at the titles: A Modern Guide to Post Feminism, The Vietnam Papers, and Looking for Mr. Goodbar. I had not totally lost my interest in erotica by the age of 13, but had begun my expansion into social politics and anthropology. Although we did not share the same taste in books (she tended to prefer Jacqueline Susann and Life magazine), she never attempted to influence my choices.
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