OUTright OUTrageous

I'll forego the whole 'lapse apology' because by now I think it's fairly well established that I'm lazy, irresponsible, and find even talking about myself a chore at times. Only at times...

My 26th birthday was on August 14th, for which I flew home and spent several gluttonous days mimicking my life in New York, with the addition of increased exposure to skin cancer. I was perpetually "flirting with a melanoma", if you will. A week earlier, however, I became privy to some very important information that, shockingly enough, had to do with me.

Entirely unbeknownst to me, my mother decided to out me to my father. Apparently 48 hours after this conversation between them ensued, I called home on a typical Sunday afternoon--hung over and hoping to keep the chat short, sweet, and confined to subjects regarding weather and workouts. Here's how the talk actually transpired:

Me: Hey Ded, how are you?
Dad: So so. How are you?
Me: All right. What's up?
Dad: Nothing, really. You?
Me: Nothing.
Dad: So I've heard about your change in lifestyle...(pause)
...and that you've become a big lesbo.
...
...
...

Me: (after ER team performed resuscitation and I re-discovered the ability to speak) Uh. Uh, wha? What do you mean? Where did you hear THAT from??
Dad: Your mother.
Me: Ooooh-kay. So...how are you?
Dad: Okay. I mean, I didn't jump up and clap, but it is what it is. I think with you it's about 25% hormonal, 25% environment, and 25% genetic. You know, 50% of men who are in jail engage in homosexual acts, and 25% of those continue that behavior even after they are released.
Me: (totally confused) Sooo, you're saying being gay is like being in jail??

During the 40 minute calm conversation we had, my father made such claims as: "Yah, you should bring home someone we can share, preferably someone with a daddy-complex," and, "Well, there's just something about a man courting a woman that I'm sorry you'll miss out on--you know, I had sixty women before your mother." And who could forget at my birthday dinner where, after listing some friends with whom I had spoken with that day, my father exclaimed, "Hmph! All women. It'll be nice if some men would jump in your puna and not just women."
*this of course being a rough translation from Hungarian, but I think the point is preserved, regardless of the idiom*

So there it is. If any of you are struggling with any issues of sexuality whatsoever, I can only say that I hope you all are blessed with as tactful and sensitive of a family as I am. In the meantime, I swear by the remains of my liver that I will be more diligent with Fupafighter, especially now since all I have to do is call home to collect more fodder.

Comments

[Chef Pot Roast]

"Hmph! All women. It'll be nice if some men would jump in your puna and not just women." Um, I think what your father doesn't understand (perhaps it's the "language barrier") is that most men you hang out with don't jump in ANY puna, let alone yours! Will Hungarians never learn???

[Naughty Nurse]

Puna. Tuna. Need I say more?

[Beth]

Jesus. Did you get a recording. Holy shit. This entry will stay with me.