I have had pains not like cramps at all but near my pubic bone kind of. my cervix or what I think it is, is very big, I don't know if that is normal or not. It's on top of my..ya know..and isn't it suppose to be at the end of your vag because mine isn't… I was very poorly educated when it comes to sex ed and all that..so are these any symptoms of cancer?

nope not cervical cancer….

my biggest fear in life, other than vomit and small clowns, is getting herpes. getting any STD, for that matter, but mainly herpes. just look at the statistics – it’s everywhere.

they manage to warn you about the dangers of date-rape drugs and smoking cigarettes in middle school, but one thing that was severely overlooked in my youthful days of health and sex ed was the horror that is herpes and all of its friends in the STD gang.

although 80 percent of Americans have the commonly found oral form of this incurable love disease, the only person I’ve known to have it is Mr. Rosso, the balding, long-haired, hippie guidance counselor from the television show “Freaks and Geeks.” he says to his students, “I met this girl; she seemed really nice. We danced a bit, I kissed her, one thing let to another, and now I get sores on my lip once a month. I. have. Herpes.”

If Mr. Rosso can have it, anyone can.

though we could barely hear them over the giggles induced by the words “penis” and “vagina,” (I always found the word ‘coital’ to be much more laugh-worthy) our middle-school sex educators actually enlightened us about every variety of STD out there. but back in seventh grade, our biggest sexual concern was getting to second base in the back row at the movies, and all this chatter of crabs and the clap seemed like crazy talk that would never apply to us. Little did we know that one day our lives would be littered with one-night stands, walks of shame and those unfortunate moments when we’re too drunk to notice that our special friend has some red dots on his junk or suspicious sores on her mouth.

Instead of boring us with the monotony of the classical sex positions (which I had discovered by third grade, thanks to a curiosity beyond my years and the flexibility of Ken and Barbie dolls) what they should have focused on was what to do when you get an STD — particularly how to tell the sucker who infected you.

Lucky for you, I have a little anecdote to catch you up on what you missed.

last year, I was seeing this douchebag. and for one reason or another, I was fond of him. but, unsurprisingly, he pulled the classic “I’m too scared to get tied down” and left me high and dry at the mark II Lounge with a face covered in pizza and running mascara. Equally unsurprisingly, we reunited one drunken night a few weeks later and fornicated.

A few days later, I received a very memorable phone call. it went something like this:

Douche: You may want to sit down for this.

me: are you pregnant? Congrats!

Douche: Close, but you actually gave me chlamydia.

me: What? That’s impossible. have you been tested?

Douche: Well, no. it hurts when I pee. and since I’m a guy, it’s mostly likely not a UTI. so you gave me chlamydia. I’m positive. You should get yourself checked out. and, uh, don’t tell anyone about this.

me: Oh, I was actually planning on making my Facebook status “Just got chlamydia! Come ‘n’ get me!”

A few days later, I received a voicemail from the very same douchebag:

“So, um, just got the test results back. It’s a UTI. weird, huh?! (Long pause). Oh, and … it still hurts when I pee.”

The douchebag was one of about 5 people per 10,000 to get a male UTI. I had never seen the power of karma work so strongly in my favor. I still have the voicemail saved, and replay it when in need of a good chuckle.

A word of advice for all you guys (and gals) who will be the bearer of such wonderful news in the future: Stop procrasturbating and get tested. Don’t go pointing your smelly fingers at the last person you boned ­— unless she is a lady of the night, in which case she most likely did give you something.

If it turns out that you are indeed a new member of the clap crew, don’t be selfish. We’re college kids trying to get our nut once in a while, not a bunch of idiots playing hot potato with syphilis. so take some meds, brush your sperm-encrusted teeth and get back on that horse. just make sure Jim and the twins are wearing a helmet.

Holly Houston is The Current’s sex columnist. she can be reached at .

This was originally published in The Current, a weekly supplement to The Daily Northwestern.