Bryce Gruber’s Thoughts of the Day (too fertile for my own damn good edition)

Bart, with $10,000, we’d be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like…love! -Homer Simpson

1. My Eggs Need to be Put on Layaway. Seriously, I’m too fertile for my own good. I think most women like the idea of that, but it’s a scary little thing in my life. I can imagine being a little older, married, and maybe even a bit wiser and really enjoying all this fertility jazz… you know, waking up next to a man that I share a name with, climbing on top of him for an hour or so before work, and not worrying about the 80,000,000 sperm making their way through my innards. My reality, however, is different. When Ben was made all it took was once. One good shot of old dude sperm that seemed to defy all conventional wisdom. I think the odds of a woman in her peak fertile years (late teens through mid-20’s) getting pregnant are 25% assuming she has totally unprotected sex every single day during her week of ovulation. I did it once, and the reason it even happened was because we had time to kill before a dinner reservation and we simply did not understand the language that was being spoken on the television in our foreign hotel room. F*ck.

2. I Barfed Last Night. I don’t usually barf. Barfing isn’t my style, and bulimia most certainly does not fly in my world. I spent the weekend at Boyfriend’s house while Benny was spending some time with his dad in a different part of NYC. We hung out, we cuddled, we did more than cuddle, we went shopping for grout at Home Depot (is it weird that all the manliness was a big turn on for me?), bought groceries and I cooked a big dinner for the two of us. It was nice. Dinner was delish. He loved it and didn’t barf at all, but for some reason I found myself puking in the bathroom at 1:15AM after no alcohol and a totally healthy dinner. I blamed eating too much, but when I woke with the same lingering feeling (that remained all day) I couldn’t help but wonder if our safe sex had somehow been unsafe?

3. It’s Not Cute. It’s not cute to make a habit of getting knocked up… especially by different dudes. How’s that for a thought of the day?

4. I’m Pretty Sure I’m Not… actually knocked up, the the barfing has scared the bejesus out of me and I think I’m too fertile for my own good. I think I might have to change this relationship over to FaceTime, Skype, and letter-writing because my reproductive organs simply cannot be trusted.