I am telling mama about a conversation that I had with gay John and she is outraged.

“You are a private person,” she says. “Why must you tell him about your genitals?”

To be fair, I don’t tell John about my genitals (mostly because he asked me not to) I merely mentioned in passing that I had an annual appointment with my gynecologist and he said, “for the D&C?” and I said, “no, a pap smear” and he said “isn’t a D&C the same thing as a pap smear?” and I said, “no, dumbass, a D&C is an abortion” and he said, “are you sure?” and I said, “yes,” and then he seemed sad, so I said, “why? Why do you care? Did your mother used to say ‘I should have had a D&C?” and he said, “no, not at all,” but he still looked pensive, but maybe he was just thinking.

Who knows, but it’s not like I’m having an intimate discussion about my gynecological woes with gay John. Obviously I save this kind of stuff for my blog.
Mama disapproves of it anyway, of course, and it reminds her of everything that is wrong with America today.

“The country has gone crazy,” mama tells me and starts enumerating the complaints she wants to lodge against it. Like why those Armenian whores, the Kardashians, have their own TV show. And why Bruce Jenner, who was a nice boy, an athlete, now looks like a lesbian, and don’t get mama wrong, she is all for metrosexuals, but not to this extreme, there has to be moderation.

Then mama turns into Rush Limbaugh and wants to know why Obama wants to have a mosque near Ground Zero and why he doesn’t just erect a monument to Hitler in its place and call it a day.

And there we are. You know that you’ve had a fantastic conversation with your mother when you’ve covered abortions and Hitler in the span of ten minutes. And it wasn’t even Mother’s Day!

P.S. If you feel gynecologically invested in my story, my appointment is on Monday, so I have to squeeze in all my pre-appointment panic in quickly. What if something’s wrong? What if I have, as John calls it, cervical wretch? I ran this by papa and he said, “well, good news is that you can’t die young.” Which is more less good news and more obnoxious news. In other news, John told me that he’s considering becoming a junior gynecologist and I think I’m supposed to ask my gynecologist if he hosts apprentices.

I predict that conversation will go well.

Go ahead, ask me.

Ask me what I’m doing this afternoon.

I’m getting fitted for a bra.

It’s true.

Because I saw a commercial where the woman was saying that her life has improved, while another woman asked her “did you lose weight? get a haircut?” and the answer was no, she got fitted for a bra.

I’m interested in improving my life, I decided to schedule an appointment as well.

And even though the appointment is not until later this afternoon, my life has already improved.

Best gay friend John offered to come with me and pose as my husband. “I can give them suggestions. Make my wife’s breasts bigger! And higher!” he said.

There was some confusion when I told papa. For some reason, he thought that I would get measured and then they’re sew the bra for me on the spot. “This seems like scam,” he said. But it’s free, papa. “In that case, maybe men should get measured for condom,” he said.

I’m super excited about this event. But, you know, I’m in my 40s. I can talk about bras and breasts and sex and not blush.

But not everyone can.

Planned Parenthood in New York is kicking off a “We’re Going to the Principal’s Office” campaign to empower parents to see their principals about getting sex ed into schools. Right now, sex education is not a requirement in NYC public schools, but we want to make sure that sex education is taught in every grade every year. Planned Parenthood asks that interested parents get in touch with them, and the parents will be sent materials to help them through the process.

If you are interested in getting involved, please contact Planned Parenthood.

Because watching Bristol Palin’s PSA announcement how you shouldn’t have premarital sex unless your family is super privileged just doesn’t cut it.