I always get ahead of myself, even online. I just went on Google and typed in "submitting manuscript." There is no "manuscript" to speak of, so what the hell did I expect to "submit"? I saw the search results and I had to overwrite the word "submit" with "wri" to make it "writing manuscript." And now I'm thinking, that's still jumping the gun, isn't it, because in order for something *go to Google to see the definition of manuscript; there's a pause at this point while I'm Googling; wait a minute, when you use the word "Google" as a verb, do you write "google" with small letter g or "Google" starting with a capital letter? Obviously, this is a very confusing entry, or as Britney Spears would call it, stream of consciousness, although her poetic attempt really missed the point, oh what the hell!* to be called a manuscript, it must be "the form of a literary work submitted for publication." If you're still conceptualizing it, it can't be that. I guess I need to go back again. This time, I'm typing in "writing" although I'm sure that's not a good search word, being by itself very ambiguous. But that will have to do for now.

Earlier, I was "talking" to Kyan Douglas. In my head, he's confused about his sexuality and would consider sleeping with me even if I'm a straight girl. (I'm so unoriginal because Madonna has done this with Rupert Everett - another why-are-you-gay-goddamn-it! - in a movie.) We're talking about gayness, of course. I told him that society still perceives it as an aberration. If someone's kid turns out to be gay, very few parents (perhaps 1 in 7,983,087) would be genuinely happy he became that way. Sure, many of us see them as entertaining, talented, well-rounded and special eventually, but we'd rather have them straight. Kyan asked me, "How would you feel if it was your child?" I had to think about it. And Kyan had to go pee.

While he was in the gay men's room, I pondered over it, determined to give him an answer that would blow his mind. But he never came back, got flushed out when the paracetamol finally sank in. The question, though, remained.

Nobody will ask an expectant parent, "Would you like your child to be a boy, a girl or gay?" It stops after the "or a girl." And while some parents would say that it doesn't matter as long as the baby is healthy, I don't think the "it doesn't matter" covers gayness. If it were my child, I'd be scared for him, because society in general is homophobic and would pick on him for the slightest reasons - feminine tendencies (which even straight men have), where he takes a leak (Kyan, at least, gets to have his gay men's room in my mind), hygiene and fashion acumen (is it my child's fault if he's been trained to look clean?), getting straight A's (at least with that, he's straight). He would be very lucky to get through college unscathed, and that would be partly my responsibility although it would be impossible to shield him from hurt, but if he does get out, I would have been a success as a parent and he'll live a marvelous life (not uncomplicated, though) because he's admitted to himself what others cannot. I don't think there's any straight person in this world that has looked at another member of the same sex, marveled at some of their physical features, and not gotten scared that he might be having homosexual tendencies. It could be just them wishing that those features were theirs, but with emotions, who can tell the difference? Lust becomes labeled as love, frustration as anger, sadness as depression. It could as well be sexual attraction and that can be scary because then the tables would be turned.

So Kyan, here's my answer: I would be very scared for the reasons already stated above, but feel blessed because I have a child willing to admit to himself and to me something that most people consider to be an aberration. To me, it's going to be just another day and I'd be proud to walk him down the aisle one day (if he's unlike Mom and wants to get married, of course) to meet another wonderful gay man at the end of this aisle. Still, he, more than anyone, will need to be told about safe sex. By the time this needs to be done, I hope I'm reasonably armed.

And with that, Kyan sweetie, I'm ready to have your baby. No safe sex for us.

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