I Had to Pee in a Cup

I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. Just a regular check up with a dude who decided he’d like to look at vaginas for the rest of his life. Fortunately I didn’t have to drop trough and strap my heels into some stirrups. The guy just looked over some charts and asked me how much sex I get.

How many sexual partners have you had?

Wait, what? Is that even pertinent?

The naval medical student flicked his eyes up to mine. I bet I get laid more often than him.

“Eight.” Doc sucked his teeth. Naval medical student looked back at his chart.

“Do you use condoms and get tested between partners?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

And that was the end of that conversation.

Doc flicked deeper through my medical file. “You’re due for another check up in about six months to make sure that dysplasia stays benign. You’re 25… Your birth control lasts for another year… Do you plan on having kids soon?”

Do you know anyone who wants me to be the mother of his children…?

Christ, Fizz. It’s always interesting to chat with you, and you could’ve just said “no.”

I mean, one day I’d like to be a mom, but I don’t think that’ll be for a while.

Well if I’m still around when that happens, you’ll have to come in and have a chat me with me. We’ll have to take the implant out of your arm and get a good control of your blood sugars so Mini Fizz is a healthy hell raiser.

You want me to name the second one after you? The first one is gonna be Spartacus Titan. Boy or girl, that’s gonna be the name.

I peed in a cup to make sure I wasn’t knocked up. I’m not.

Thank God.

Michael 2.0

Somewhere between having someone gunning for me, losing sleep to exams and 0400 crew practices, and just being a general dumbass, a boy found me interesting and pretty enough to like.

And I like him too.

His name is Michael, so when I say, “I’m gonna hang out with Michael,” my friends flip out and ask if it’s “really a good idea to go back to him.” It’s rather endearing to hear them express concern for me. What I find even funnier is Abe and Alex‘s reactions:

His name is MICHAEL! MICHAEL! I don’t like him already…

I’m gonna be honest, when I meet a guy named Michael he’s already starting off on the wrong foot with me. He’s at a negative one.

There’s a Michael in my lab group and I don’t talk to him just because his name is Michael. I REALLY don’t like that name…

He’s on the wrestling team and practices when I take my men’s novice eight boat down to the rowing machines.

The Cluster(fuck), my eight boat. John, Ion, Derek, Tyler, Shaner, George, Pranav, and Jake.

I oggle him from afar… And sometimes I catch him staring at me too. Just yesterday he peeled himself off the wrestling mats and said hi like an excited puppy. I thought it was very sweet; Alex wanted to shoot him, but I guess that’s a reflex reaction because Alex also said:

“He likes you, Jess. You know how you said you get attached too hard and quickly? I think he’s worse. You better hang on to that one.”

And then he drew this diagram of how I need to reel him in.

Abe is the submariine. Alex is the big fish with sharp teeth. I’m the fisher in the boat named “Collateral.” And Michael is the small fish on the hook.

Dodging Bullets

Well, a lot of stuff has transpired in the last week. A stripper party, suicide threats, dates, and a promise to have “a gun put to my head in front of my friends and my brain splattered across their faces.” 

I reckon it’s time to get the fuck out of here. Disappear. My bug out bag needs to be updated and repacked. I don’t have much money to my name. South America is a dangerous continent, but it’s my top choice to escape to considering my resources. I hate the jungle. I better get immunized soon so I don’t fucking die by mosquito. I’d rather be taken out by the cartel.

Me: I’m dodging bullets left and right… I just can’t outrun them.

Raymond: You gotta be Superman.

I’m sorry, Ray. I can’t.