***
Taking Responsibility

Oh god. What a boring title.
Lets see what happened last night.

I watched The Day After Tomorrow yesterday. It was so cheesy and so bad on so many levels it was actually entertaining. (The U.S president forgiving all Latin American debt? The concept of U.S refugees?)

Stayed over at Mr. Big’s. Mmm, what’s new. Only I forgot to use protection, when I really should have. (It’s usually a good idea when the kitty wants to make babies.) I couldn’t believe I forgot thought, it was a first. I’m one of those people with that strange sense of self-righteousness when it comes to sexual responsibility. I suppose it’s because I have so little morals left that whatever little that’s there, I try my best to respect. And maybe because I’m so useless at abstinence, whatever little bit I manage is a big deal.
I’m usually the one chiding people at how they could have been so daft as to forget to use protection when they tell me that they’re so afraid of being pregnant. And I never understood how it was possible to actually forget to use a condom; until now.

You just well, forget.

I told myself a couple of times that I had better remember to use protection… but for some apparent reason, I forgot. And five minutes into it, that little voice that had been reminding me all this while whet ‘Shit’.

Maybe it was a case of complacency.
The sense of security more frequently springs from habit then from conviction – George Elliot. It’s one of my favorite quotes, because it’s quite true to my character. It’s generally true of everyone’s really. I think it is. The more I have sex without getting pregnant, the less I think it’ll happen. When well, yeah, its obviously bullshit. But well, you become complacent. You don’t think it’ll happen to you because so far, it hasn’t.

I know getting pregnant isn’t all that easy, but we really can’t help but want to expect the worse when something like that happens. It’s as if the more we expect evil the befall us, the less the chances of something unpleasant occurring. I’m no different, obviously. I had to expect the worse, get really paranoid, and continually count the days that had past since my period ended. I did it after I came, obviously. I can never understand people who think about how to cook, oh I don’t know… something I feel like eating now, um…Marseille Bouillabaisse, while doing it.

Anyway, Mr. Big went to work the next morning, and I gathered whatever respectability I still retained for myself and made an appointment with the doctor. I know I should have gone immediately after I woke up, but the pill’s effective for use up to 72 hours, so I went to watch Eternal Sunshine.

What a movie. It wasn’t THE ultimate, I still think Jeux d’enfants is the most amazing love story in film (and in every other form of storytelling for that matter), but it was so good. I thought it was very effective as a film, as a piece of art that had the function to affect a person thoroughly. Because I came out of the theatre as if something had really gotten into me and dug out all these emotions I didn’t want to admit to. It’s a perfectly horrid movie to watch if there’s someone you wish you could be with, but can’t.

Anyway, I went to the doctor’s a little while ago. I felt like a silly little girl, and all I really wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball with a glass of Chivas and hope that when I un-curled, everything would just be all right. It wasn’t that I was afraid of getting pregnant, I didn’t really think I would; It was really about a lot of shit scrunched up in me. Mostly self- inflicted, you know. Products of my imagination.

I’m still stuck in the past, I know it. I can’t get over him*, and I don’t want to get over him. That’s why the stupid movie bothered me so much. But it’s not just that, it’s also how I can’t stop constantly wondering why the hell is it not working out like I want it to between Mr. B and me. I know part of it is because I don’t want it to work out, because I’m afraid I’ll forget him* and part of it… maybe we simply can’t get along. Not that we fight or even disagree. I’m too lazy for that. Just that we don’t connect. Everything’s surface.

I read his journal today.
So I think maybe I know (that he feels that everything’s shallow too).
I shouldn’t have. But it was no big deal. Just some mildly interesting entries. I can tolerate a lot of bullshit anyway, so even if whatever that was in there was more then I had expected…

I told him anyway, about how I’m mildly freaked that I might be pregnant, but I also mentioned it was probably no big deal cuz I’ve managed to get the after-morning pill. His response was rather, ugh.

Him: Oh My God, why didn’t you tell me it was that time of the month. And in the line of things, have you gone for those std tests?
Me: What? Well, no! I mean, I took one just under a month before I met you and I was fine then. And I’m sure as hell am fine now and so are you, so what are you going on and on about? It’s not as if I have no discernment when it comes to sleeping partners, and seriously, I hate getting check-ups like that done because the whole damn clinic can really freak a girl out. And you know how these people are with young kids like me. They freak us out when we ask for a blood test. They think you have some horrid reason to be there and give you all sorts of unpleasant what if scenarios. Look, I’m really upset right now, and I really am trying to take responsibility for whatever and… blablabla.

I guess I was really frustrated at him pushing me around all the time and saying shit like that to me continually and making it like I’m some kinda slut. Fuck. It’s just fucking retarded. He was nicer after I told him off, saying something like how I should ask him for anything if I needed anything. Heh. Well, whatever.

I don’t know what’s gonna happen in the next few weeks, but I know that I’m really not used to not being treated like I’m the best thing in the world. I know I’m not, but any idiot guy should know that’s how girls like to be treated; so just do it. Fucker. And it’s such a bad idea to make it like she’s a slut.

Eternal Sunshine does make that point fairly clearly. Eh.