Underpaid mistress

Lately, I've been seriously pissed off for many reasons, but the one that tops them all is so stupid that I'm almost embarrassed to write about it here.

Since I turned 28 in Dec, I've been obsessing over babies. Before my last birthday, kids were something I wanted theoretically, but practically-- I was undecided. I'm going to assume I'm just like everyone else and again, assume, that I will be miserable when I'm barren and old and I have not yet propagated my genes.

Mark, my best friend, is gay and a few years older than me (35, to be exact). I always joke about how I'd fall in love with him if only my ego would let me. He makes flirty, innocuous remarks too. That's our dynamic.

Anyway, about a week ago, I seriously asked him to give me some sperm if I'm still single by the time I'm 30, which is a little less than 2 years from now. I thought my asking was only proprietary, a nominal "May I?", given our deep friendship and closeness. So you can imagine how heartbroken I was when he demurred.

He wouldn't say why either, until I pressed and pressed, and finally, he said: "I think you would fuck up our kid irrevocably. And you have so many mental issues that I wouldn't feel comfortable bringing a child into such a toxic environment."

So basically, I'm fucked up enough to be entertaining and to go drinking with, but too much to have his babies.

I shouldn't be so pissed, but hey-- truth hurts. Mark is right. I know this, but this doesn't lessen my hostility towards what is presumably a difficult situation to resolve in less than 2 years. But always Mark and I would joke about getting married, shit like that-- and to be hit with his low opinion of me really hurt.

And of course, as with all things shitty, I have to find something else to distract me from the shittiness. I started an affair with a tenured professor in my dept. It's not my former advisor, it's this short, Jewish, balding dude whom I wouldn't look at twice, but his accomplishments have rendered him fuckable. He was just at the right place at the right time, basically. Nothing special. Just another ugly, brilliant Harvard professor who barely makes $80,000 a year, whose only claims to fame are articles in obscure trade journals.

It's incredible how amazed he is at the inane things guys my age would just shrug off-- he was very appreciative of my matching lingerie, my waxed ladyparts, my skin, which, according to him, is the "smoothest skin ever." He told me he loves the fact that I'm thin, but Jennifer L0pez is "thin" to him, because his wife is grossly obese. In other words, my hotness is wasted on a man with such low standards of attractiveness. He knows how to give good oral, though. And I haven't reciprocated once, because I didn't have to and I didn't want to.

So with my Plan B backfiring, and this stupid, sordid affair I'm having w/the short bald professor has eaten up quite a bit of my time. The sex is v. good, probably because he is so conscientious about pleasing me. I hate myself afterwards, though.

I'm giving this another week, because I don't know how long I can keep boning a bald, aging father of four who doesn't even have the money to buy me nice stuff(he bought me a barfy bracelet from...Walmart. I had to bite my lips to keep myself from laughing).

I don't know if Mark and I will ever resume our friendship. How can I be around someone who thinks so poorly of me? I have such few friends and losing Mark this way was the worst possible thing ever.