Here, Have A Goodie Bag, and Oh Yeah, Don't Get Pregnant.

I will say one thing for sure:

California is SERIOUS on population control... as in, they don't want to add to it.


Because I qualify for the special programs for women out here (YAY FOR BEING POOR! WHOOO!), I am able to get all of my "Family Planning Needs" at the local Planned Parenthood.

Planned Parenthood.

Isn't that the place where people get shot and the places get bombed for being pro-choice??? Oh yes, send me in there. Just give me a water and snack bar for the duration. Maybe some band-aids for afterward.

I had went to the one in Texas before for the same reason (really not a safe idea... they like guns there WAY TOO MUCH... porn too, but that's not about to land you in the hospital as much as a gun will, and I know this: I worked in news). But I will say this, the Texas PP are nothing like a California PP. Why?

Example #1:

While sitting in the waiting room, filling out the the paperwork to qualify for this program. It asks the basics: how much do you make, what kind of job do you have, etc. After I fill this out, I take the set of forms back to the nice receptionist with a gazillion piercings and shiny lip gloss, smile and turn around. Not even 30 seconds later, I am called back up: there's a problem with how much I make. Her response: "Ummm, are you sure you don't sometimes make less than this in a month?"
"I guess I do sometimes..."
"Ohhh, well make sure to list that."
"Should... I be listing a different number?"
"Yeah, it would help, because right now they won't accept you into the program with that number."

I take back the paper, cross out the original amount, and write in a bogus amount, much lower than the real number. I hand it back, so inputs it and *poof* I am handed my new card. The point? The state may be so damn broke that they're cutting funds EVERYWHERE and issuing I.O.U's for tax refunds, but keeping the population under wraps is priority #1. Either that, or they don't want me personally to have babies. I don't see what the problem is; my babies would be kick-ass.


Example #2

While sitting in said-waiting room that comes with no magazines or anything to look at but the smiling teenagers on a poster that's probably as old as I am, I hear bits and pieces of conversation. I am not trying to listen in necessarily, but you can't help it sometimes:

Woman 1: Well, I am here because I just had my fifth baby and they thought maybe my husband and I should think of something different like the IUD.
Woman 2: Oh yeah, I hear the IUD works really well. I might get that too.
Woman 1: So what are you here for?
Woman 2: Ummmm... well, my profession requires me to get check ups every few months.
Woman 1: *silent, guessing shocked* Oh.

Okay, now let me ask, what type of profession requires you to get "check ups" at a place like Planned Parenthood every few months??? I have compiled a list.

a.) Porn Star
b.) Prostitute/Hooker
c.) Stripper

We are by the porn capital, after all...




Example #3

Once in the room, I am greeted by my doctor. She has no sense of humor. I try to joke with her, but really, she's not interested. Oh, come on Doc, I'm in a paper-thin gown and naked more than normal, you're about to do dirty and horrid, though medically necessary, things to me, and you can't crack a smile and humor me. Fine, I'll just play an episode of Grey's Anatomy in my head until you're done; good thing this was free, because the service sucked. After she is done violating me in a way that normally requires dinner first or some fake sentiment, I am given a bag. Not just any bag: it contains birth control pills, a plethora of condoms and a few boxes of the morning after pill.

Really?

Do I have that look that screams I need all of this?




Lesson learned: California does NOT screw around with population control.