I have a terrible secret.

It is something so horrifying that I can barely bring myself to dwell upon it for an instant. And yet, it is always there, burning in my soul, gnawing at my intestines like a rabid weasel. Really, you should see my intestines. They cannot take much more of this. And so my only recourse is to confess, to share it with the wide world, and hope that, by this, I shall at last know peace.

I can barely type the words. My fingers rebel, curse them. Ah, but I am accurst, for . . .

On my beautiful Power Macintosh G5, there is Microsoft software loaded.

The horror!

Anyway, I checked in on MSN Messenger late last night. For some bizarre reason, this is the instant messaging software of choice for my family, which is not renowned for its sensible decisions. I thought I might catch my mother online, as indeed I did. We chatted about various things, including furniture, my bizarre diet, and the locations of various stores. Then she reminded me that she reads this web log all the time and was disappointed by my recent portrayal of our family as the source of all my tension.

Of course, she is just being overly sensitive, as I said no such thing. I wrote that their house – with its clamorous barking of dogs, its blasting of the insidious Fox News at all hours and in all rooms, and its ever-present sounds of construction – is undeniably chaotic. “Welcome to my life,” she said.

I have written a number of things about my father, whose approval I seem to crave, but I have not delved very deeply into my mother, who would be proud if I tripped over a rake. My mother and I are actually very much alike, it pains me to admit. No gay man wants to evoke his mother, which is a shame, because we all do. My mother and I are both fiercely loyal, generally blunt, and essentially generous. We probably both like our dogs more than we like most people. She can yell louder than I can (years of practice), but we are both reserved in social situations unless we are very comfortable. We both have unreasonable fears (she is afraid of heights and driving in cities; I am afraid of germs, toxins, and Ann Coulter . . . actually, upon reflection, none of those seem unreasonable).

I suppose, considering everything, the Microsoft software is much more to be feared.