Letters to My Gayby

Hopefully there’s a baby connected to the rest of that…

I have been thinking a lot lately about having a child, about mothering – mothering something other than an adult drunk or a pet.  Mothering something like a human baby.

Now, when I say thinking, I simply mean THINKING.  I do not mean planning.  Since,
I am a lady in a relationship with another lady this idea involves A LOT of thinking, A LOT of planning, and eventually the semen of a Latino.  (Sorry, that’s my preference!)

To be honest, I’m glad this endeavor involves a lot of thought and can’t be accomplished whilst falling over a chair naked, as it could for a straight-by.  That is what I call a baby made by straights – a straight-by.  The twinkle in MY eye is my gayby – a baby made by gays.  Breeders who create straight-bies don’t need all this premeditated thought.  They simply need tequila and a blackout.  This is why we have a series of atrocities like, “16 & Pregnant” or “Pregnant and Didn’t Know It” or the British “Pregnant and Pissed” – which incidentally I always thought meant pregnant and angry, but actually means pregnant and drunk.

It occurs to me that maybe thought before baby -whether straight-by or gayby – is a good idea.

There is one other thought that also occurs to me as I write this and that is…this blog talks a lot about gay.   Gay, gay – blah, blah – gay.  I find that interesting because in my real life I rarely talk about gay.  In fact, I’m one of those gay-girls who took a while to get here.  You could say I took the long route.  As I used to say in my act, “I tripped through a forest of sausage before I found that perfect pie.”  But, find that perfect pie I did.  She’s perfect indeed.  Some might even call her – the one.  Actually, only I am allowed to call her that.

As a result of my girl on girl relationship, when my little gayby arrives, I’m thinking I may have some explaining to do…like a white couple would for their black child.

But, aside from explaining to my gayby how he or she came to be born into this alternative family, I also want to make sure I don’t raise an asshole.  This is very important to me NOT raising an asshole.

Looking around me, at the real world, this may be easier said than done.

So, I thought maybe I should focus on one topic at a time and write a series of letters to my gayby.  This is the first in that series.  Now, a lot of the subject matter in these letters is not yet for babies.  Hell, babies can’t even read.  So, my idea is to give the letters to gayby when he or she reaches an age that he or she can appropriately handle the idea.  Hopefully, gayby will pop open the letters and sip on a ice cold drink while she/ he enjoys a little piece of my brain.  Ew.

Okay, let us begin.

Lesson 1:  Ridiculous Laws of the Land that Still Existed While Your Mommy Was Alive:

Gays –

• In Saudi Arabia homosexuality is punishable by whipping and sometimes death.

• In Iran, as the President has declared, there are no homosexuals, but just in case there’s a law there that includes the death penalty.

• In Jamaica, male homosexuality is punishable by ten years hard labor.

My Gayby, I hope that none of this deters you from being homosexual if you choose to be (Cynthia Nixon) or if you are born that way (Lady Gaga, Elton John, Nathan Lane).

Always remember that homos have contributed many valuable things to society like musicals, Calvin Klein underwear, go-go boys, naked fireman calendars, tarts, Lady Gaga and Champagne with a touch of cassis.

Women –

• In Chad, women have almost no legal rights and most marriages are arranged when girls are 11 or 12 years old.

• In Yemen, domestic violence is NOT illegal.

• In Pakistan, there are almost 800 “honor” killings a year.  (Honor, really?)

In spite of all this, my gayby, I hope none of this deters you from being a woman if you are born one or protecting a woman if you are born a man, or protecting a woman if you are born a woman and somehow lucky enough to be capable of doing so.

Remember women constantly (and thanklessly) contribute valuables to the flea market table of life.  Some of their freely provided wonderfulness includes – dresses, a gluteus maximus that rings like a bell, filled out t-shirts, poetry, laughter, music, unconditional love, compassion, food, high heels, teamwork, and vaginas.  (Not necessarily in that order)

Okay, that concludes today’s lesson as mommy is emotionally tired and now needs a cocktail.

Oh wait, one more…

Booze –

• You can not buy booze in Georgia on Christmas Day.

• You can NOT buy booze in New York before noon on Sunday.

• You can NOT buy alcohol in New York or almost any where else if you are under 21 with an exception or two.

It’s amazing that alcohol is not available in Georgia on the one day when people might need it most – when they are visiting their families.  My hope is that you won’t feel this way about me.  My hope is that we’ll be able to visit without booze because we just like each other.  I know that’s a tall order, so I’ll just wait and see what happens.  I promise not to push it.

I’m not sure why you’re not allowed to buy alcohol on Sunday before noon in New York.  I’m guessing that’s because once upon a time everyone was supposed to be in church at that hour.  Now, I don’t want you to hate church.  Sometimes looking up and “asking” or “chatting” is all a person can do.  I think a human being needs to be able to look upwards towards the heavens in their lives.  So, don’t hate church because it’s a) boring b) been a wonderful institution for the oppression of women and gays or c) because it stops you from buying alcohol at noon.  And if you just can’t rationalize stepping into a church for yourself there’s always the synagogue or a buddhist temple.  Just don’t count it out fully, at least until you’ve given it some deep thought.

Lastly, it’s a good thing you can’t buy alcohol before you’re 21 because everyone under 21 is retarded.  The main reason for this law, I believe, is because the U.S. was built around the car.  You can’t put a keg of beer into an 18 year old and then put him behind the wheel – no good will come of it.  But, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the nectar of the gods from time to time.  For example, you can buy a drink for a minor in a restaurant in New York city if you are the parent or guardian and they are under your supervision.  That is the exception to the “under 21” law above.  You can also buy a drink, as an under 21, if you enlist in the army.  But, if you enlist in the army, I will kill you.  And dead is no way to enjoy a cocktail.

Now, I’m not saying every child should start using alcohol out of the womb as a way to deal with their problems.  And my hope is that you’ll find other ways.  However, if the world ever seems to be too much, picking up a bottle of pinot noir and leaning on a good friend is the right thing to do.  If you read about, see, or live through unbelievable things – like the above laws, for example – and it’s just too overwhelming, come to me.  I’ll take you to New York city.  I’ll buy you a full grown gayby martini and an adult one for me.  We’ll commiserate for a while and then ride our banana seat bicycles back to the hotel.

You see, in my head that’s how I see our relationship – a woman and her gayby fighting through life on their colorful, banana seat, bikes.  Until it proves untrue it’s the relationship we have.  At the very least, a girl can dream.

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baby-foot