A good friend forwarded me a craigslist…listing of am Armenian couple who was seeking a girl of my age and my background to receive some egg. I didn’t know if it was sent as a joke sorta like, “haha, look how dedicated these people are to need Armenian DNA halfed into this child” or “THIS IS A SIGN!” (Interior Monologue: They’re Armenian. You (Me talking to myself) are Armenian. They want an Armenian egg through your Armenian woman parts and you can hand them all these things on a silver platter. Plus you’ll be doing community service for Armenianness and getting paid for it – two things that never happen simultaneously.”)

I considered it and thought I’d have to act fast before the long line of Ani’s, (other) Anoush’s, and the like could beat me to that 6,000 dollars. DO you know how badly I want Six thousand dollars? Do you know how badly? I’d eat it if it were on a plate, with a fork, with chopsticks, whatever. I want it so badly i’d take it and hide it (not under my mattress) and pile things on top of it and sit on it until it hatches into double its amount – triple its amount. I’d take half of it and invest. Mutual bonds – mutual bonds.

I would buy nothing with it, but I’d enjoy the fact that IF i wanted to I could. If i DID get some late night hoodie purchasing hunger I could get into my car and drive across town to buy it. I Could even fill up the car on the way and drive on a full stomach. Then I’d get to the store, try on the clothes, NOT like ’em and put ’em back on the rack and delight in the money I’ve saved and still pat myself on the back saying, “at least I tried.”I’d buy a Coke Zero and drive home, enjoying the radio (if it doesn’t randomly turn off, like it’s been doing now) and enjoy that I’m really NOT a spender and that good things DO happen to people who aren’t frivolous spenders – who DO have self control. But NO. My fantasy of going on a late night spree and NOT buying the things I wanted in the first place will NOT happen because good things don’t happen to those who wait. Or those who practice good self-control. They come to those who work their asses off.

The reason I thought, Yes, I should do this:

“You should be going outside your comofort zone. Your body isn’t really that vulnerable or THAT vessel-like, and if you freak out about every little last thing that gets done to it, you’re clearly not that adventurous and may not have what it takes to do all the other non-egg-donory things you plan on doing.”

The reason I thought, No, is:

“Ew, EGGS!” And “What about the whole being able to look at yourself in the mirror thing, trying to convince yourself that yes I AM doing it for helping people in need. When i’m not.”

Oh, and I honestly didn’t care that the child would be half mine. I really didn’t. It’s not like i was HAVING it. And I didn’t care that in maybe some horrible twist of fate, it would be my only of very few good eggs or that the process would make me “damaged goods” if I wasn’t damaged already. I still didn’t care.

I knew though that once I signed the papers, met the family (WHO COULD’VE BEEN – BY THE WAY – ANY WEIRD ARMENIAN FAMILY), and have Dr. Nobody come at me with a giant needle and take my Mt. Ararat-DNA (which is in Turkey now, btw), I’d realize that I’d gone too far. (PS: I’m a believer that some people need to get over feeling “invaded” but this time i’m allowing the feeling to develop.)

And I’m allowing all this Anoush-taking to happen so that I could acutely help people and score 6,000 dollars. We’re sucking out your insides, but we promise – it’s strictly business. Maybe I should just work really hard and sell a screenplay(?)


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