Baby Steps to Four O'Clock

In which I keep a friend.

So not so much with the telling my mom anything important. But! But a friend from my old job texted me the other day, and we were doing our usual jesting. Then I told her I’m gay. Her response: That’s cool. Then: Why are you telling me this? I could’ve cried. Not that I’m a crier. Unless I’m getting bits of myself “surgically” ripped away from me, apparently; still bitter about that one. But if I were. I know it’s not a big deal at all, but it was so good to be shown that it isn’t a big deal, to the point of her wondering why that was even relevant. I don’t know, I thought it was cool. Plus good practice for telling other people, because I know that it can be okay. Sure, a text is almost a complete cop-out, but progress is progress, that’s what I’ve always said. And by always I mean I just said it just now.

In other news, some snippets of conversations:

Me (reading last week’s Entertainment Weekly): Simon-from-Firefly’s actor is gay!*

Mom: Oh, I didn’t know that. I like him.

Mom: When I was a kid, you HAD to sign your name in cursive; you couldn’t just use regular letters for your signature.

Dad: They didn’t have gay marriage when you were a kid either.

Me: Yeah, and they also didn’t have gay people when you were a kid.

Dad: But the world changes and adopts (intending adapts).

Me: Because people are gay now and can’t have kids so they have to adopt.

Me (in response to a movie trailer sans Olivia Wilde, after talking about Cowboys And Aliens): Where’s Olivia Wilde?! This movie would be better with Olivia Wilde.

Dad: Yeah, I’d marry her.

Me: I would!

Dad: Well you can’t, because I’m already marrying her and if you marry her that would make us fellow, er, polygamists. Which would just be weird because I’m your dad.

*If you don’t know what this is, don’t even bother trying to be my friend because it just won’t work out. Sorry.