I'm your hell, I'm your dream, I'm nothing in between

I apologize for the inaction on this space in recent weeks. I discovered my feet a few weeks ago and I find kicking to be the most fucking fascinating thing, ever. Plus, with my memory not yet fully developed, every fucking thing is new every time. It's awesome being a fetus.

I mentioned earlier that I would be finding out whether I was a girl or boy, and guess what? I have a vagina!

I can't say it was the most comfortable experience. They poke around with the machine making sure I have all my parts and measuring my shit, including my labia. Shit, I've already posed full frontal and I'm not even born yet.

As you can imagine, mommy is thrilled since she can get all girly buying all kinds of pink clothings and home accessories. Daddy is crestfallen like a motherfucker, since his plan was to train me to become a college quarterback so I could get a scholarship and he can put my would-be college savings towards beer and weed. Now, the only way I can earn a college scholarship is if I turn out lezbo. Plus, he won't be able to trust anything with a penis within a mile of her.

Say, which is worse for a father, for a daughter to turn into a slut or a lesbian?

Anyway, now that they know my gender, they're furiously coming up with possible names for me, especially since "Cletus" ain't gonna fly.

Boys grow up to be quarterbacks, girls grow up to be figure skaters

This is a pretty fucking big week for me. Why? Because later this week, a doctor will poke inside mommy and see if I have a penis or a vagina. Or an incredibly elongated clitoris.

Actually, it's a bigger deal for mommy and daddy, since they can start picking names and buying shit that's going to reinforce some arbitrary society-mandated gender roles. Me, I know what I am. Well, that's not true. I have no idea what I am, and I won't really give a shit until I'm in kindergarten and other kids start calling me homophobic slurs.

And gender roles, if you think about, isn't all that artificial. See, girls and boys are wired differently. Specifically, they tend to find their self-worth in different ways - boys want to be scored, girls want to be scored. Let me explain:

• Boys = quarterbacks
  How do men measure each other? I mean, other than taking a tape measure to the dick? By comparing stats. Nobody gives a shit whether one quarterback's more talented than another, but everybody cares about the numbers - total yards, touchdowns and Super Bowl rings. Similarly, guys are compared by their paychecks, the horsepowers on their cars, the number of girls they've fucked. No one cares about the qualitative shit, it's all hard numbers. Quality be damned, it's putting one in the "W" column, or the sperm in the vagina that counts.
  


• Girls = figure skaters
  Chicks are different. Sure, she can do a triple lutz, maybe she can skate faster than everyone else, but what did the Russian judge think? What bout the French judge? While the male psyche operate on pure numbers, the dick-size mentality applying to pretty much everything in life, it's not enough for women to simply do well. They need acknowledgment that they're doing well. That's why you see an otherwise intelligent, attractive girl worrying about what some douche thinks of her. It doesn't really matter where it comes from, girls need validation.

Of course, thats all details. If I turn out to be a boy, I'll sleep with anything with a pulse that gives me the time of the day because, fuck, thats another notch on the bedpost, and if I'm a girl, I'll sleep with anyone who will come over and talk to me because, shit, someone values me!

Heavy is the head that's bigger than the rest of my body

So I haven't been good about this blogging thing. You'd think with all the free time that I have, and with all the stupid shit that mommy and daddy talk about, I'd be blogging like a motherfucker. But shit, it's not like I have a fully developed brain, or there's a tape recorder up in this bitch (and by "this bitch", I mean mommy), that I can record conversations or leave notes for myself.

Which is to say, lay the fuck off.

So I'm, what, 19 weeks old now? Shit, I'm growing hair now. I still don't know if I'm a boy or a girl, but if I'm a girl, it'll be the end of daddy, because if I come out with a vagina, he's going to be the most paranoid-ass overbearing, overprotective father, ever. I'm going to be a total daddy's girl and try to manipulate every man I meet and never be in a non-superficial relationship. Otherwise, he knows I'm going to end up having some serious abandonment issues, which will lead me to find a father figure in every guy I meet and fuck everything with a pulse and a dick, because that's the only way I'm going to maintain any sort of self worth.

I got my sonogram in a couple of weeks, and mommy and daddy are going to find out what I'm packing down here. That's going to be about the only time in his life he'd be happy to see a penis instead of a vagina.