That's Not Dust, It's Magic

I have set myself the goal of saving $30,000 or near to it, before I have children. By have, I mean work through the stupidly tedious and stupidly restrictive rules and costs we call adoption, as I am gay and amoung liking stubble and penises, it means I have no vagina.
I see $30,000 as a neccessity because I will need a Nanny, and this money will hopefully buy her, for at least 2 years. I never wanted to be one of those people that have someone else raise their child because they are to busy running a busness and being fabulous to care, but it’s not that at all. I will go insane. I will starve myself, then eat everything, kill my child, write a poem about it, then kill myself. I need time for work and to be creative, and to keep saving money to give myself and my new baby the life that we enjoy. I’m good with children and I love them at most times, and I have been burried in them since my sisters found husbands, and their husbands found their vaginas - so my child will not be there for accessory. It will be there to be loved and taught and all the rest, but I cant give up myself to that every day. It’s a virtue to be selfless, I know, but what kind of insane person endures the embarrassment of adolesence, the confusion of finding out who they really are, the hardships and the successes that make them ‘themselves’ to then dispose of completely so they can feed bub-bub some num-nums untill they make poo-poo all over the fucking carpet?! I would give my child everything and all the bits that weren’t given to me, and I feel that preserving myself enables me to do this. Having a child shouldnt change your life, it should be an addition to your life - you shouldnt be relying on another being to be that drastic.
From the outside, how more stereotypical could it be? A gay guy, working in the fashion industry, living a not uncomfortable lifestyle, adopting a child then keeping it with a Nanny. It does look bad. But it wouldnt be for every day, and it wouldn’t be because I have no love. I just want to do everything well, and being a full time dad would make me tired busness person and a worn out father, and I’ve already had one of those.

You have chosen your best shoes. You have consumed nothing but water all day, to allow quick and ready drunkeness. You have shaved your lap area. You have promised yourself to not lose your phone. You make plans for transport. You practice the smile of a normal person. You take tomorrow morning off work. You are ready to party.
But why are you going?
If you do not know the host of the party, reheat your noodles and stay home. There will be more parties. If you know the host of the party, but also know them to be a lying sexist idiot, stay home even more.
But the host is nice to me, you say. If you parallel “being nice” with “‘liking’ the selfies you put on facebook”, then the word for this person is sexually-excited-introvert, not nice. This does not constitute a freindship and therefor does not constitute a good night out.
I get it - we go to parties, take photos with our way cool Hipstamatic iPhone app, ’check in’ at clubs and venues and talk about how crazy our night is, because when our friends see the evidence, we are immediately cooler. And funner. And wilder. And cooler. But why are you going? If you’re going to this person’s party because you genuinely like them, know them and they have very few questionable morals (example: having sex with 13 year olds, and their friends), then go! Attend! Viva La Vida! But if the only reason you know them is because you are one of their ‘748 Friends’, then stay at home.