there should be a law dictating that people arent allowed to spend a good part of their birthday crying. if you’re caught breaking the law the police gets you and brings you to disneyland and lets you hang out with michael cera who will write you a totally quirky happy birthday song and do all sorts of sweet awkward stuff like give you flowers and make you bacon waffles.
and then you are required by law to do kinky stuff at legoland.
Nuuuu. Don’t cry bb! What’s wrong? I don’t want my favorite Jamesterbutt to be sad!
I often wonder what it would be like if and when I became a father.
Despite my insane aversion to children, I want to be a father one day.
I imagine myself living in a city somewhere up in Canada. Not a super busy city that never seems to sleep. Just a regular city with enough of everything. I imagine my husband (can’t imagine myself marrying a woman. I do have the pansexual streak in me, but I always imagine myself to be married to a man.) and it’s legal in Canada, so I would happily call him my husband.
We’d have a relatively spacious apartment, in the same building as Jess because we eventually had to get places of our own, but at the same time, it was just convenient since we could hide out in each other’s place for whatever reasons there were. Dom would live in the same city (because she loves me that much, I tell myself), but somewhere closer to where she worked. I’d have lunch with my fag-hag of a mami and favorite dyke-shrimp every saturday after work and we’d just hang and be dicks with ourselves.
And the kids. I always told myself I wanted to adopt a kid older than seven because of how hard it was for children past that age to get out of the system. He’d probably have a bit of getting used to what with two dads all of a sudden, but I like to imagine he warms up to me pretty quickly.
Me, because I always think I would be the more hip, childish and indulgent one between my husband and myself. He’s the more straightlaced type. Only in his general behaviour at least. I imagine him the bookish kind that actually has a freaky, crazy side he likes to let lose every now and again, mostly when he’s comfortable with the people he’s with. Only just a little double-life-y.
So he’s the stricter, but more gentle one with the kid. Which is osm, but the kid likes playing around with me more. When I’m not trying to get him into ice skating which he isn’t probably fond of. But I buy him things, so he lets my insanity slide.
After a while, my husband and I decide we want to try raising kids from scratch, and our first kid likes the idea of baby siblings.
We adopt babies. Plural just because I can be a real girl sometimes and like to pretend I could get my hands on twins (a girl and a boy).
I waste no time trying to induct these two into my crazy love of ice skating, and my oldest child and husband just watch as Papa Alek goes into what could only be described as Mother-hen-dom by someone with the mentality of a 16 year old boy. (I’d wanna be Papa and hubby could be Daddy, just because.)
I’d like to think that I could possibly have this happy family setting I hope to live. With a loving husband, some kids, my best friends to help me through the craycray, and all in all, just a good life with the people I care most about by my side.
Okay, the romantic, girly crap ends here. If it redeems me in anyway, I also sometimes I imagine myself living a Brian Kinney-esque lifestyle; living fast and absolutely un-romantic. It borders. I think I might just be on something today.