You know, it really sucks as a female to have one your most basic and compelling biological urges directly hooked up to the trip switch on a relentless piece of baby-making machinery. It's like being fucking booby trapped or something. One false move and the next thing you'll be kissing is goodbye to the next 19 years of life as you know it. You wind up putting a lot of thought over the years into disarming that particular land mine, and it seems that every contraceptive method has its own special little drawbacks. Condoms cut down on sensation. Some oral contraceptives dampen sex drive, others make you fat and give acne so nobody wants to fuck you anyway. I'm beginning to suspect that's how they work, ultimately... they make the act such a pain in the ass or the user so repugnant that eventually sexual activity just dies off from lack of interest. (Welcome to Conspiracy Theories R Us.)

But when you finally do brave the old minefield, there is nothing like a blatant contraceptive failure to get the old panic juices worked up. Thankfully, a torn rubber is obvious and immediate enough that we had time to do some damage control. There was a bit of a freak out as I tried to figure out just where and how I would obtain the morning-after pill within the 72-hour window of optimal effectiveness, considering my doctor only works on Fridays and said rubba-busting incident happened late on Sunday. This Dr.'s office doesn't seem particularly concerned about birth control emergencies, as I found out when I tried to get someone, anyone in that office to call in a replacement prescription for the Evil Childe's BCP's when the pack fell into the sink and most of the pills got ruined. Because what's so urgent about a sexually-active teenager being without her birth control pills? Unless she lives in YOUR house, that is. So anyway, I wasn't too optimistic about calling them, and all too conscious of the minutes and hours ticking away while I might be being fertilized against my wishes, for god's sake! AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....

But hell's bells... that there Internets thing is a marvelous tool, isn't it? I have no idea how I ever survived without it. I did a search on emergency contraception and brought up the Pl@nned P@renthood website which not only had all the information I could ever have wanted, it even offered a service where you fill out a short evaluation form and they will actually call you a prescription in to your local pharmacy. I had my morning-after pills in hand within a few hours.

So two horse-doses of progestin later, I think I've figured out which premenstrual hormone is to blame for certain symptoms. This morning I cried when I read about Bill Clinton on the campaign trail with Kerry, fresh from heart surgery. I miss Bill Clinton. *sniff* Then later I cried when I heard Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee talking on the radio about how he is so touched when he sees old people who are still holding hands, obviously still in love. Me too. I love Tommy Lee now. *sniff* Other than that, I'm just feeling a little fatigued... and a whole lot horny. Which is how I got into this fucking mess in the first place.

Mother Nature is a twat. Now let's just hope that the horse pills did the trick.

5 felt the need to share

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Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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