The Necessity of Socks.

I once thought you boys had it hard, you know, dealing with unexpected math class boners and physicals and all. I was convinced I'd give my left arm if I had to drop my pants, turn my head, and cough... but that was well before my 18th birthday and mandatory annual visits to a certain lady doctor.

So today I bought a journal.

Yes, a beautiful black leather bound journal from a Barnes and Noble an hour and a half away.

I've been meaning to purchase one of these since, well, since I read Bridget Jones' Diary and wanted to document my retarded life come my 23rd birthday. I definitely should have made this purchase before the morning of the 25th to record the prior night's events in utter detail. It really is a shame I waited so long.

But this morning called for drastic measures.

I forgot my socks. And socks, simple they may be, are an absolute necessity when visiting such a strange place.

My roommate and I once had a conversation about proper gynecological etiquette. To wear socks, or not to wear socks?! Considering, as women, we are asked not to simply 'drop our drawers,' but rather, to strip down to the skin God gave us, so our breasts can be palpated for potential tumors and our nether-regions examined for who knows what, socks prove to be the only logical comfort.

But however great the comfort, you can imagine the debate Kara and I had over whether or not wearing socks seemed silly as we lay spread eagle with our heels in stirrups attempting to carry on casual conversation regarding current boyfriends or 'partners' (as they prefer to say) and our recent engagement in sexual activities.

((Just so you know, it is practically impossible to lie to such doctors! Even when you are well aware that the patient anxiously waiting to be seen in the next room can hear EVERYTHING you tell your doctor because the walls are paper thin, and after all, 5 minutes before, you learned all about the sexual activity of the anonymous woman in room B.))

Same partner? New partner? What is it this time? No partner? Oh! Well, what have you been up to then? Blah blah blah blah.

Second to the socks in the security department is coming home to a roommate waiting to debrief your emotional state at the time of said visit.

Because of the summer weather Orange County possessed and a recent move, I had neither socks nor roommate to come home to. Hence, the purchase of my beautiful black leather bound journal for the bargain price of $29.95.

____

So boys, next time you start complaining, about anything really, remember that women shed their uterine walls once a month for approximately 5 days, become human incubators for a period of nine months, spread their legs so a nurse practitioner can scrape cells off their cervixes, and have their breasts smashed down by heavy machinery to detect potentially cancerous tumors.

Oh, and maybe buy your girlfriend a pair of cute socks when she's curled up in the fetal position screaming at you because you don't understand the pain of menstrual cramps.

Happy Day :)