Biebersil

Most single sexually active adults have not only a wide array of 'bad date' stories, but also HPV. HPV is that fun virus that causes women to have bad pap smears, multiple pap smears, decidedly unpleasant gynecological procedures and, yes, cervical cancer. It is now known to cause head and neck cancers as well (and you thought oral sex was safe, silly you) and affects both men and women. Oh, and more good news, condoms don't prevent HPV transmission. I had been lucky enough to dodge the bullet on HPV until my last pap smear. It was then that I learned that I'd likely joined the masses and was invited back in for 'further testing'. Several months later I was cleared and breathed a deep sigh of relief.  And then I decided to get the Gardasil vaccine series.  Granted, it does not protect against all forms of HPV, but offers some protection against some of the nastiest strains.  Sounds good to me.

I marched into my large health plan and was directed toward the vaccination office.  The receptionist took one look at me when I said I wanted the Gardasil vaccine and said,
"You're here for what?"
"Gardasil.  Its the HPV vaccine."
"You want this for yourself?", she asked, looking around for my teenage daughter.
"Yes, its for me."
"Okay then, please have a seat under the Miley Cyrus poster."

Ah ha, I'm not the usual Gardasil demographic.  I get it.

I bravely sat through the shot and praised myself when the nurse said I'd been brave and asked how I was doing in Algebra (I told her I got an A - hey, its the truth. She didn't ask when.)  She explained that the vaccine comes in three doses, spread out over several months, and that they've had trouble with girls coming back for all three.

I've now had 2 of the three,  and was promised a Justin Bieber t-shirt after the third.

Dating Advice: What Would Jesus Do?

Most Jewish girls don't take dating advice from JC, but I do. "Don't hide your light under a bushel." Somehow I doubt JC meant this as one of 'The Rules', but I'm adding it to my version (and deleting all of the others by the plastic surgery twins). Last night I had dinner with a single friend of mine who is attractive, well-educated, kind and an all-around great person. To my horror, she shared with me that she had been advised by some of her 'friends' that she is single because she is too honest with men too early on about herself. More specifically, that she is Ivy-league educated, has a good job and owns her own home. She doesn't flaunt these details - in fact, she is one of the most modest people I know - but also doesn't lie about them when asked questions like, 'Where did you go to college?'. Her advisees instructed that the next time she should answer, "A small school in New England" rather than the truth, which is Yale.

 Are you fkg kidding me ????????????

 I went on a date two weeks ago with a guy from my town, who was decent looking, gainfully employed and even in my age range. To top it off, he was also Jewish-lite and we had lived in many of the same cities. The first date went quite well and he asked me out again within 48 hours. What could be better, right? On the second date we somehow got on the subject of sports and whether we'd played them in high school (who cares?). He had not been athletic, and admitted that one of his brothers was a jock and the other a cool guy. I watched this 45-year old man travel backwards in time to the 'nerdy smart kid' from 1985 who felt inferior to his older brothers. He asked me if I played sports and I said yes, I was was on the swim team and was a cheerleader. The moment those words floated out of my mouth I realized that I'd just shattered his ego. He then asked me some questions about my job and my home (I'm more senior and have a nicer home than he does) and I realized there wouldn't be a third date. Really???

 Maybe my friend's advisees are correct --- maybe I should have told this guy that I was the unpopular girl in high school who stayed home on prom night. Maybe I should have told him that I work at the local supermarket and live in my parents' basement apartment. Maybe then he would feel less intimidated and we could have gone out on a 3rd date. No thanks. I'm done hiding my light under a bushel and I think that's what Jesus would do.