Salon is a liberal artsy type of place where bloggers pretend they are some kind of artist when they blog about their sex life. In this piece a self obsessed woman tells the tale of meeting a younger man boy at a Passover celebration. At first she does not find him at all attractive but in a subsequent meeting at her apt. they sit on her bed to have a conversation and this leads to kissing and no surprise to sex. There wasn't much going on in her life at the time so she says...why not. Then they indulge in a series of no strings attached sexual trysts where they both focus on their own needs. No mention of bc...so no surprise when pregnancy appears.
Shriek....she takes prenatal vitamins as she goes to the doctor to confirm what the drug store tests says....comments that her skin is clear and her body is responding favorably thus far. But alas, the dr. brings her back to reality with his comment that he knows she will do the sensible thing.
Her hippie friend says....hey, I will get pregnant too and we will move to a commune and raise our kids together but the bed partner shares a bowl of ice cream with her and says he is not into this. Truth peaks through this piece that is meant to celebrate the choice of abortion to fix the pbl started with sitting on the bed .....
"Our baby was the size of a lentil, with a poppy-seed heart that beat 167 times per minute, twice the rate of mine. It had veins, brainwaves, arm and leg buds. I was becoming a nicer person. I was nauseous all of the time. The doctor said my uterus was roughly the size of a lemon. There were rational things to consider and then there was the surprising passion of life. There were logistics and then there were miracles. Who could help me to know?"She picks the time of Passover to abort...the abortionist assures her that it was just a blob but she remarks, but it had a heart beat. She then goes onto celebrate Passover and remarks...
"Passover, festival of freedom, slaying of the first-born--these ides swam through my thoughts as I regained my regular body and hormone levels. I felt lucky to live in a place and at a time when I could make decisions about the destiny of my own life and about whom I would couple with-and when and why. I ate bowls of red beet brosht, globs of fuchsia horseradish on thick slices of gefilte fish. The festival of freedom. Moses in his basket, saved on a river that would soon become blood. "Some time later she runs into the same man boy and they go to lunch together and split the bill.
Truth peeks out doesn't it?? She may blog and get her piece in the Salon but there is a stone in her shoe now.
