This post is continued from Coming Out: The Parents.
First off, I apologize for taking such a long break from writing.
My slacking off was due to a variety of factors. At the top of the list was laziness - I just haven't felt like writing until recently.
Other factors, however, have also contributed to my absence from the web. For one, I've been completely slammed at work. I'm mean, slammed. Apparently, everyone loves litigation and arguments around the holidays - why they love it is beyond me. I long for the slow days of summer, where lawyers in my field usually get a break.
But alas, we have a long way to go.
Also, I've been dating a ton, with unsatisfactory results, and recently, I had LASIK surgery performed on my eyes. 20-15 vision, baby!
But we can talk about all that later, because now, I want to tell you about Thanksgiving with the folks . . .
Before my parents even arrived, I'd been tossing around the idea of waiting to tell them about my sexuality until we were back at their home in the Midwest, in a place where they feel comfortable and secure.
Some of Urban Insanity's readers recommended waiting until I was visiting them, as did some of my friends, and that theory certainly weighed on my mind, even if I saw it as an excuse to push off the inevitable conversation until a later date.
Ultimately, it was that "theory of coming out" that made me decide not to tell them over Thanksgiving.
Well, that, and my own cowardice.
So, I didn't tell them, and instead, I've decided to book a flight home for a non-holiday weekend in either January or February to attempt this dreaded conversation again.
But that's not the end of the story.
Some interesting developments happened over this holiday.
My folks stayed in the Magnolia Hotel in Downtown Dallas - if you're ever visiting here and can't get into the Melrose Hotel, I highly recommend it. Great deals and excellent rooms in the heart of downtown.
While in Dallas, they wanted to visit George Bush's Crawford Ranch. Yes, my folks are staunch Republicans. We drove 2.5 hours on Texas's overcrowded highways until we hit the back roads of Crawford. Once there, we stopped and dodged quarter-sized hail to run into the safety of a Bush souvenir store, where the shopkeeper and my Mom badgered me into take a photo with a faded, life-sized stand-up poster of "W." It was an experience.
Once we found the entrance to the ranch, we took a snapshot of the gate from the inside of my car, and then quickly turned around to head back to the city.
Even if you're a Republican, you can leave this tourist adventure off of your agenda next time you visit the Lone Star State. It's definitely not worth the trip.
We did all kinds of other touristy stuff, but I'll spare you the boring details.
I will tell you, however, that on the long car rides all over town with my folks and sister, we had lots of conversations.
One of our favorite topics of conversation involves my Dad's best friend's son, who is an angry, extremely flamboyant gay guy.
The discussions about this angry kid were mainly between my sister and Dad this time, and I noticed that my Mom remained strangely quiet.
Usually, she's right in the middle of these talks.
It bothered me that she remained quiet, perhaps because it reaffirmed my suspicion that she suspects that I'm gay.
It's also made me wonder if I should have the sexuality talk with her first, alone. I'm weighing the pros and cons of that right now.
More to follow after Christmas . . .
