let's talk about sex

[TMI warning: This post contains references to "women's stuff." I don't think I have any male readers, but I know occasionally the brother-in-law stops by, so just in case, and also as a courtesy for any female readers that don't want to hear about my trip to the lady doctor.]



For months I have been trying to go to the gynecologist. Nothing's wrong, I just need to have my yearly exam. It's not like I want to go, but it's like paying your taxes - you gotta do what you gotta do. One of the reasons I do want (although I still think that's too strong of a word) to go is so I can go back on the pill. I went off thinking, 'If I don't need extra hormones in my body, why put them there?' Except then I remembered what happened the last time I did this - my skin looks like a "before" picture on a Proactiv commercial. I don't remember having skin this bad as a teenager, but maybe I just blocked it out. Anyways, the irony is that because I'm not on the pill my cycle is a less predictable, so every time I made an appointment I'd invariably get my freaking period. I was tempted to call and make 1 appointment a week for a month, and then I'd just cancel the ones I didn't need, but knowing my luck I'd end up with the world's longest period.



So I finally go in today. What does the doctor tell me?



"You're ovulating, so no hanky panky without a condom."



First of all, thanks for reinforcing how much sex I'm not having. The nurse already took care of that. Are you in a relationship? Nope. Are you currently sexually active? Nope. Any chance you could be pregnant? Didn't we cover that in the last two questions? I'm pretty sure I'm not a candidate for immaculate conception.



Secondly, if you want to give me a safe-sex talk, that's not the line to take. Pregnancy doesn't scare me nearly as much as that disease that makes you die, because pregnancy, unlike HIV, can be undone.



And I already marked off on the little sheet that in the rare occasion when the stars align and I do get laid, I practice safe sex. Why have me fill it out if you're not going to read it and/or believe my answers? It's like the time the nurse asked me how much I weighed, and then after I answered she looked me up and down and told me to step on the scale. No need to add insult to injury, the paper gown does a sufficient job of stripping my pride.