Remembrance of Things Past

OMG, guys. I’m really happy now. I got an email from my gyno!!!

Yes, guys, an e-mail! An e-mail is good because it means your test results came back negative. I remind myself of this with a little rhyme: If you didn’t fail, you get an email; If your phone rings, it doesn’t bring good things!

You know you’ve lived a little too hard if you’re really amped over STD test results. I’m not mathemagician, but I’d venture to say that one’s excitement over negative STD tests is directly proportional to one’s past sluttery. And, as many of you long-time readers can attest, Sojourner has definitely taken advantage of her freedom—and the legalization of miscegenation. As a hypochondriac, I get tested very regularly (sometimes I go in for a prescription refill and come out with two vials of blood drawn, just for the fun of it!), and the idea of an un-wrapped P in my V actually terrifies me, so my past, while varied, is relatively tidy.

Still, there were those nights….those Grease-like summer nights, when the club was dark and the booze was strong, and you didn’t know if that guy was on the up-and-up, but you hoped the amount of alcohol in your blood was so high that it would kill any foreign antibodies that entered.

Am I right, guys?


Anyway, I figure I just bought another 18 months of calm, especially now that I’m Jewboo’ed up and behaving.

Speaking of sluttery, I’m thinking of doing a trashy Halloween costume this year. I’m not really one for costumes (as a blacktress, I perpetually wear a mask….oooohh, that’s deep), and the idea of spending a lot of money or investing several hours in crafting a costume for one night of wear just seems silly. Besides, all the costumes for women are a slutty version of something really generic—you know, like a slutty fireman, a slutty witch, or a slutty slut.

I think, in honor of the slutty idiocy that is Halloween, my costume will be A Girl With Low-Self Esteem.

Booty shorts and/or booty skirt, the tiniest top you can imagine, and the need for endless male attention all night long.

I may end up having flashbacks.

Or, if I want to seem slutty-yet-cool, I’m thinking I can dress up as a Freudian Slip.

You know, wear a slip with my glasses and a name tag that says “Hello My Name is FREUD.”

What say you?