You bet.

So, since the insomnia is back (except I've gotten enough sleep in the last couple days that I'm still TOTALLY CONSCIOUS at 6 a.m.), I was reading an article linked to by my hotmail account (yes, I know how lame this is, esp. in light of the fact that this was my lit crit journal for a bit and I have really been reading for real seriously) about how that Laura Sessions Stepp bint that's been whoring her anti-sex book everywhere has been saying yet again that girls should save themselves for their husbands. Or something. Actually, in all fairness, she just says hooking up is a bad idea. That it'll emotionally screw you over and make you incapable of having emotionally healthy sexual relationships. As someone who has probably had several (conservative estimate, that) more "hookups" than Ms. Stepp, I want to call bull. Not that I disagree with her. Hookups are bad. But not because women are naturally genetically wired to snuggle into a man's arms after sex and think "this for me, for ever". Probably some women are. I know some men are. But most people are able to separate sex from making love from fucking from copulating. That's not my quibble, though.

The real reason hookups are bad is that if you call up last week's barroom conquest and say, "so babe, I have some killer cramps. Want to help ease them out? Should I bring a dark towel?" said liquor-laden Lothario will laugh, then try to reschedule for next week. A boyfriend would totally go for it, even if only because he doesn't want to hear you complain about your uterus.