Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

After: All of the Love

OMG LOOK AT THAT RING.
(Brunch Aftershock Picture.)
I wish that I had the time, immediately after the wedding, to capture everything that the day was: all of the joy, all of the laughter, all of the perfect bloopers, all of the friends and family truly becoming one community, all of the dancing, all of the love.

I didn't have that time right after the wedding. We stayed up dancing and karaoke-ing at the Best Unplanned Wedding After-Party Ever until 3 AM, which thanks to Daylight Savings Time was really 4 AM. Then we got up at 9 AM to have brunch with a bleary-eyed but beaming crew of friends and family. Then we had to drive three hours back home, continue packing...

... and the next day, we picked up a moving truck. Some of the very same amazing friends who helped us get married Saturday night showed up Monday morning to help us load a truck and move away from them.

As I said on Facebook, teary-eyed as I typed, that is the definition of Joy. Community. Love. The theme of our wedding, and God willing, the theme of our life.

Someday, I want to have time to share some of the amazing stories of love from the weekend and immediately following it. I mean, I did already share one brief hilarious blue-comedy bit. Now, I will share one sweeter moment:

Toward late afternoon, as the fiance HUSBAND was preparing to hit the road (yes, another week-long separation ahead), our friend Richard came over. When we let him in, he said, eyes alight: "I'm going back outside to get something set up! Don't come out until I knock again!"

Curious, tired, and obedient, we waited. A few minutes later, he knocked again. We stepped outside, and my eyes welled with tears for the thousandth time this week. When we stepped outside, this is what we saw:


Somehow, in the time between Sunday and Monday, while we packed and loaded and prepared for The Next Big Thing without any time to reflect and relax... Richard created an incredibly beautiful, moving memento - not only for us, but for our parents and our little wedding team. In his shop, he chopped up the beautiful twisted trees that had formed the base of our chuppah, and created candle sets for all of us. Wherever any of us go, we will now always have a small piece of our first official "home" as a married couple to take with us, and literally light our lives. Is there anything more lovely?

I don't have time, today, to reflect on all of the moments like this, from The Day and everything after. I still have too much packing to do, too much cleaning to do, to many hugs and quality time to squeeze in while I can. But for the record? I did have the time of my life that day. Getting married was awesome. It's pretty cool to say that the best wedding you ever went to was your own. It truly was the Best Day Ever.

And it's all because of the people. Our parents and siblings, our friends who are family. We didn't spend a lot of money on this wedding, relatively speaking, but we did spend a lot of time and energy and collaboration. It's overwhelming. I might not stop tearing up every few minutes for a good long time. Especially since the fiance HUSBAND is gone again, and I'm staying with precious friends (WSM-D and hubby-J) I can't imagine not seeing all the time, and the emotional roller coaster is far from over. But what a ride, y'all. 

What a beautiful ride.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

We Did.

We got married, and it truly was the best day ever. I'll catch up on the backlog of blogs and all the stories of the beautiful day that was our gorgeous, hilarious, joy-community-love-filled wedding. For now, here's to all of that incredible love... and this:


Sunday, March 2, 2014

7: Chuppah

How do you get the right chuppah?

The right ingredients, of course. Starting, first and foremost for us, with the right people.

As noted early on, our team has been and continues to be incredible. Our friend Richard the Master Builder was enlisted quite early to be our Chuppah Builder. More recently, WSM Diana and I went shopping for some fabric for the canopy-top of the chuppah. Turns out around that same time, Richard was out in the woods... chopping down some trees to really make a hand-hewn traditional wedding canopy.

He began the basic construction, and invited WSM-D and me to come help finalize the design and move toward final build yesterday. With a week to go, it was time.

I have no words for how beautiful this chuppah is going to be. Only an amazing feeling of gratitude. I think gratitude is going to be the Word of the Week, y'all. So instead of words, here are some pictures to document the day's work and preview the beauty to come...

A sturdy tree view...

Cutting the fabric with RL

Cutting up with the fabric (and can you spot the WSM?)

Experimenting with draping the fabric

Sewing the fabric once we found the right draping
(Thanks for the help, Lesley!)



Wednesday, January 8, 2014

59 Days To Go: My Team = Champions

Why, yes. Yes. That is a mug
covered in pictures of my fiance
dressed as a mad scientist.
Tonight I had a wedding logistics planning meeting with our WSMs and two other ensemble members: our decorations genius/designer, MQ, and our chuppah builder/production manager, RL.

I didn't take pictures tonight; I took notes. I took deep breaths. I did not for one moment take for granted how unbelievably fortunate I am to have friends like this in my life. Friends who don't think twice about going the extra mile for you; friends like family who see this event as a day of joy and commitment for them, too. It's nights like this that I feel shaky about leaving here. Leaving the friends that are family here.

But not living here full-time won't mean they aren't family anymore. That's not how family works. Family sticks, distance be damned.

Okay. I'm tired and quite literally about to fall asleep, and I'm babbling with my fingers now. I'm going to finish drinking my mug of Mexican Hot Chocolate out of my one-of-a-kind mug, and put myself to bed... and perhaps fall asleep to fewer stress dreams, thanks to the help of my friends. I'm confident my next update of #TheList will look healthy, and that, y'know, THE W WORD will actually happen and look pretty and it'll be because my team, in wedding planning and in life, is the best team.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

72 Days To Go: The Theme of Our Wedding Is Carbs

Progress on #TheList, y'all!

This week, we headed out of town to visit first my grandparents and then the fiance's parents. That means we got to see three out of the four parents - the MOG, FOG, and as a lovely bonus, the MOB came down South to visit her father.

We were just one town over from Wedding-Town. So, with the MOB in tow, we went to the venue, signed all final contract paperwork, paid 25% of our rental costs, talked through the logistics... and absolutely beyond any shadow of a doubt, THE VENUE IS SET.

Invitations arrived, and we took them with us on our road trip. With the help of the MOG, we stuffed all envelopes, and by Monday they will be in the mail, and INVITATIONS WILL BE SET.


Welcome to our wedding dinner.
We also got to eat out at the gourmet-pizza place we were hoping would be able to cater the wedding, hoping that it's as good as we'd been hearing. Good news: IT WAS. Which means between that, and the craft beer we're bringing in, I'm pretty sure that THE THEME OF OUR WEDDING IS SET... AND IT'S "CARBS."

Getting real.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

...And Everyone's Still Talking About That Cake

I've started writing this post several times, and tripping over my words. Usually, that happens to me when I'm talking, not when I'm writing. But in this case, even when writing, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Sometimes that happens, when you're just completely overwhelmed by just how incredible the people around you are.

A few weeks ago, the parents were all in town. The MOB, FOB, MOG, and FOG all came in to see the show. The show, which was a lot of fun but also sucked up all the free time the fiance and I might have had. We hit the pause button on wedding planning. We certainly didn't have the bandwidth to put together a nice little party while our parents were in town.

So our friends did it for us - the world's best engagement party.

The Diva (Photo by FOG)
Our cherished friend Denise - AKA "the Diva" - was the amazing powerhouse behind the world's best engagement party. It was her idea, her coordination, her lovely and humbling gift. Denise is a director, and in addition to having a wonderful vision for this party, she assembled a stellar cast to help her; our friends Malaika and Nate, in particular, who helped with everything from decorations to collecting addresses from attendees.

There were several things that made this the world's best engagement party, but two things stand out above all: the people who were there, an assembly of family and urban family whose love and support filled the room to overflowing... AND THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

People are still talking about that cake. Because it was crazy awesome. And perfect.

It was an intimate and lovely evening. Denise supplied champagne and invited guests to make toasts. Many toasts were made, some funny, some poignant (my dad promised he wouldn't tear up during his, but then did anyway), and concluded with a toast from the hostess herself, along with a Khalil Gibran poem.

Leaving that night, I felt so incredibly blessed. So undeservedly fortunate. Denise's generosity, and the goodwill of our loved ones, is more than I can ever adequately respond to with enough thanks. Re-living it all again, I'm a blubbering mess, y'all. (And that's just over the engagement party. Imagine me at the freaking wedding. The off-season, ugly-girl-crying bride...)

Revelers! (Photo by Wayne Thomas)
I would go on and on, but I'd just get more emotional. So instead I'll just say thank you. Thank you, Diva. Thank you, urban family. From the bottom of my (ugly-girl-crying) heart.

Us (Photo by FOG)
“Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls...” - Kahlil Gibran

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Will I Change My Name?

"It'll be so weird when you change your name," said a friend recently, quite casually.

"She's not changing her name," shot back another friend, before I could even reply. "She would never change her name."

I started working on this post, and Groupon sent this out.
STOP IT, BIG BROTHER, YOU'RE TOO OBVIOUS NOW.
"Well, I might, but I might not," I said, and they both stared at me, equally shocked.

That's the truth, or at least, that's a snapshot of the truth, right now. But now moves quickly, as does truth. And when it comes to the name game, the whole truth is a trickier and constantly-evolving little beastie.

Truth, Then: Despite being raised by a feminist mom (who hyphenated her name, by-the-by) and open-minded dad, I still grew up assuming that someday I'd grow up, find Prince Charming, marry him, and then we'd be the Charmings.

(Incidental Reality: I didn't ever meet Prince Charming. But I did eventually meet a guy who, as it happens, has a last name that essentially translate as Prince. Close enough for this chick!)

Truth, Now(-ish): I'm really attached to my name. I have several publications attributed to this name, a solid professional reputation linked to it, more than three decades' worth of largely-positive-associations with this moniker - to say nothing of, like, Twitter and stuff. I've done a lot as this person, called by my name. It's understandable that my close friend (several, actually) was shocked I would even consider changing my name. Plus, I'm certainly a feminist, progressive person who balks at the idea of having my identity somehow become adjunct, deferring and docilely submitting my own name and allowing it to fade into oblivion as I now don my husband's name.

But.

My current name, let's be honest, is still tied in to the patriarchy. It's my father's surname, and his father's surname (well, his father's post-Ellis-Island surname; really, this name with this spelling has only been in the family for three generations). My mother hyphenated her own name, but my siblings and I all simply had my father's name. I love my father; I'm proud to have his last name...

Yet, objectively, am I any more or less a part of the patriarchal system if I keep my dad's last name, as opposed to taking my chosen partner's last name?

Still, even if it trotted its way down a patrilneal path to get to me, my name has now been mine for thirty-two years. After this much time, I have claimed it, shaped the perceptions associated with it, and giving it up seems ludicrous. So as of a few weeks ago, I made the decision - and even announced to a few close friends - that I would be keeping my name.

And then...

I had yet to fully discuss these thoughts with The Fiance. (BTW, I'm going to preempt the "why doesn't he change his name?!" question and say that honestly, he has a really cool name - an alliterative name that he loves, and makes him feel close to the alliteration-addicted-allies he adores, like Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, etc. Not to get a dig in about age, but he's had his name even longer, and for a variety of genuinely-not-Neanderthal-ish reasons, him changing his name is not on the table.)

And then, yet another chatty friend said, in front of The Fiance, "So, like, are you keeping your name or what?"

I just stared at her for a second. Poor thing had no idea how big a question she'd just asked, especially since she asked it of me, and my mind has thirty thousand thoughts swirling around in it on a slow day.

Luckily, The Fiance, who is rarely at a loss for words and always quick to look out for my feelings, took the opportunity to make this lovely statement: "Oh, I pretty much assumed that you would want to keep your name, and that's totally fine with me, of course. I don't see it as any sort of litmus test, does-she-love-me-enough-to-take-my-name or anything. Anyway, it's a good name. (Says my full name.) I love that girl."

And right then, I realized that dammit, no litmus test required, I do want to share a name with him. The feminist in me pouted, but then she got a little less petulant and a little more poignant about it. It's still my choice, after all, and isn't that what it's all about? Not the ultimate choice we make on issues like this, but the fact that we're empowered to have our own choice in the first place?

People change names to mark transitions. When someone takes on a new faith, or confirms their faith, they often receive a new name: a Hebrew name after conversion to Judaism, a Christian name after baptism, heck-- the Pope gets a new name when he gets the big gig, and far as I know there haven't been too many lady-Popes. So it's not just a gendered thing - although speaking of gender, trans* persons go through the process of finding themselves a new name that honors their identity. People change their names for plenty of other reasons: to advance their career, to better reflect their personality, to mark themselves in some way as something different from how they felt encased in their old name.

I do believe that marriage will be a transition; that something about my identity will shift, though I will remain autonomous and very much myself. I will be committing, publicly and wholly, to throw my lot in with another person's, and create a new family. (Let's not even open the issue of having the same last name is easiest if there's kids - this post is already looooong.) It is a transition, and thus many things will change - but will my name be one of them?

The Inconvenient, Clock's-Ticking Truth: I still don't know. At the moment, I'm considering hyphenation for daily life, but maintaining my current name as my professional name. I still don't have a final decision... but I did buy that Groupon, just in case.

What are your thoughts? I'd love to hear from folks who took their partner's name, folks who kept theirs, who hyphenated, whose partner took their name, folks who changed their name due to another change or transition in their life... What was this decision-making process like for you, and when (if ever) did you "know" what the right name would be?

Saturday, August 3, 2013

A Visit from The MOB

This past week, I had a visit from the MOB.
The MOB.

Don't worry - I'm referring, of course, to my mama, not the mafia. Which reminds me: I put together the Off Season Acronym Glossary (TCOSAG, natch), which will probably continue to grow. So anytime the alphabet-soup gets confusing over here, head over there.

Even with the help of fun acronyms, I don't even really have the words to describe how grateful I feel at this time of my life - at least, when I'm paying attention, like right now. I ran out of fingers and toes with which to count my blessings quite some time ago. This week, in particular, with my mom in town, The Fiance busy but around whenever he could be, a local production of one of my plays selling out here (The Show being part of the reason for this trip's timing, along with some early-stage W-Word planning)-- I just have a lot for which to be thankful, and I need to remember that. 

Especially when I'm sniffle-y about my mother being a thousand miles away again, and not seeing my dad, and feeling exhausted and slightly overwhelmed by how much is on my plate at the moment, I need to remember: I have it really freakin' good right now. These are the good days, and I want to savor them.

So without further ado, though this post can't do the week justice, here are some fun pictures and stories from my week with the MOB, day by day. Incidentally, this packed itinerary should also help explain why I've fallen behind on the blog. Totally justified.

THURSDAY NIGHT - ARRIVAL & SHOW OPENING
The MOB arrived. We celebrated with some wine and cheese at the house, along with some chips she had brought (an inside joke recently established). The MOB and I dashed over to the theater to work the box office for The Show, greeting audience members and then watching a great opening night performance. We went out to the pub after the show to celebrate with some food, drink, and theater-storytelling.

FRIDAY - WRITING DAY
Beautiful Bloody Mary.
We got up, took the pups for a walk, then headed to Coffee Shop #1, and commenced caffeinating ourselves while writing and working (like mother, like daughter). We took a brief break for lunch with The Fiance's coworkers, who also happen to be my former coworkers, so those rendezvous are always a good time. From there, we went to Coffee Shop #2 to get the rest of the work/writing for the day done... and may have squeezed in some W-Word shop talk, too. Then it was time to head home, grab a bite, and head back to the theater, where the MOG and FOG were also awaiting - they had driven in for a weekend mini-visit to see the show. Friday night's performance was even better than opening night. Post-show, following a quick interview with a reporter, we decided to head home rather than go out on the town this time. Instead, I introduced MOB to The Walking Dead. Sorry, FOB... she's coming home addicted.

SATURDAY - ACRONYM BRUNCH, DRESSES, & MAI TAIS 
MOB IN THE BACKGROUND!
After starting another day with a pup-walk, we had what I'll call the Acronym Brunch: breakfast food and Bloody Marys with the MOB, MOG, and FOG. We were able to recap the show, talk a little W-word, and fix our own fabulous Bloody Marys at the 101 ingredient bottomless Bloody Mary Bar. What could be better? Then the MOG&FOG had to hit the road, the Fiance had to head to rehearsal, and MOB & I went to grab my friend Diana..

...so I could then screw up my courage and try on a few DRESSES. Aaaaaaaiiiieeee! That will warrant its own post. (Here's one picture to tide you over for now. No, this is not THE dress, but it's pretty, right?)

We dress-ed, and then we had some Mai Tais and variations on Mai Tais. Then, though there was another performance that night, I said we didn't have to go (the cast, full of favorite friends, had informed me that it scared the crap out of them when I was in the audience). "Well, if you don't want to scare the crap out of them," the MOB said simply, "We'll wear wigs."

So we did. Which probably did scare the crap out of some people. But ya gotta give the woman points for style. We saw the show AND went out for cast/crew dinner post-show... in wigs. Yep.
I didn't come from nowhere, people.

SUNDAY - SHELTERS, SHARING, SHOPPING
Sunday we had the smallest bit of blessed downtime, so we all sat around on couches reading for awhile (bliss!), then I made us a big breakfast, we lounged a little more and watched some Orange Is The New Black (DON'T EVER GO TO PRISON, y'all), then headed to the city shelter to bathe and tend to some pups. From there, we came home and re-hydrated, then the Fiance stayed in while the MOB and I headed out for some shopping and secret-sharing. I can't tell you the secrets, but I can tell you this: we are both really, really, really bad at shopping. Specifically, we are bad at letting salespeople help us. When salespeople get aggressive, we bail. We went to several clothing stores, bought nothing, then went to Fresh Market and bought a lot of groceries. We are very good at grocery shopping. And making dinner. And talking. Take that, salespeople.

MONDAY - TAKIN' WHAT THEY'RE GIVIN'... & A COMEDY SHOW
Monday, the MOB got to stay at home with the pets while the workweek beckoned for a bit. But I picked the MOB up at lunch, we had some Mexican for lunch (her request - true story: the FOB ate too much Tex-Mex when we road-tripped to Arizona when I was in high school, and claimed he'd eaten so much he never wanted to eat Mexican again; that was in 1995, and he's sticking to his guns on this one), then worked side-by-side for the afternoon before taking the pups for a walk, then grabbing dinner and heading downtown to see some friends in an improvisational comedy show. Mostly what we remember about this is how FREAKING HOT it was in the venue. Seriously. Freaking. Hot.

TUESDAY - THE LAST DAY (THERE MAY HAVE BEEN TEARS)
I tried to get the must-do work done as quickly as possible, so the MOB and I could enjoy lunch with the Fiance (Indian, this time, per the MOB's request - she has good taste). Then we had some coffee, and buckled down and got some W-Word stuff done, including putting together a spreadsheet for the guest list, and talking some turkey about structure of the weekend and such. We made a brief appearance at a friend's farewell party, and tried to go to a cool new bar, but it was too crowded.
Our writer-nails

So then, since D had rehearsal and it was our last night of the visit, we had a truly glorious girl's night in. We had some wine. We painted our nails and embellished them with newsprint to make epic writer nails. We had some cheesecake for National Cheesecake Day. We watched some more of The Walking Dead. We talked. I mean, come on - wine and cheese(cake), girly-talking and nail-painting, and zombies: best mother-daughter night ever!

Early the next morning, I woke up crying and wrote the MOB a note thanking her for her visit, and for everything else she is and does. And then she began her 1,000 mile drive back home, to the FOB, who missed her intensely while she was here.

Because that's how it is with the MOB. Wherever the MOB isn't, you keep looking around...

And so, to dry the tears and keep forward momentum, here's a bonus quick update on THE LIST:

#TheList
1. A Partner
2. Two Men of Honor
3. Fantastic Family
4. A Tentative Date
5. A Chuppah Builder
6. A venue!! (Drum roll, please...)
7. Photographers!! (More on that soon, too!)
8. An officiant!!! (Yes, yes, more updates soon!)
9. A guest list spreadsheet (Boring, but vital. Now, to start plugging in names...)

Friday, July 12, 2013

In Which The Anti-Shelby Starts #TheList

I would like to start this post by thanking my darling friend who blogs over at tessacotton (check her out - she's amazing, and much more visually gifted than I am). When I ranted recently about not being so into "wedding colors," her response included this perfecto clip:


Ah, Shelby. Thanks, Tessa! (Especially since I just saw the stage version of this a week ago, and for real sat in the audience thinking OMG BRIDE-WISE I AM THE ANTI-SHELBY, I laughed all the harder when you found this clip. Brilliant.)

In other good news, I have started a LIST. I know it only magnifies my already unbelievable nerdy-ness, but manoman do I love lists. Pink may not be my signature color, but lists are one of my signature accessories.

STEP ONE: PARTNER. Check.
(The Fiance & The Off-Season Me)
This list will be a running list, which I shall include at the end of all forthcoming posts, to keep track of where I am with W-Word Related Tasks/Planning. It shall simply be known as #TheList.

When I add something to #TheList, I'll explain it. So here's what we're starting with on #TheList:

A Partner. That would be The Fiance. I have someone who will be waiting when I reach the end of the aisle*. 

Really, that's the number one priority here, in this whole crazy endeavor, so whew-- covered!

Two Men of Honor. We haven't yet figured out or invited the full Bridal Brigade/Groomsguard, but I have already invited two of my favorite people in the whole entire universe to be my Men of Honor. Adam, my brother, is my closest confidante, the most hilarious guy you'll ever meet, super smart, AND HE HAS EYES THAT ARE TWO DIFFERENT COLORS (true story). Noah, my college bestie, has numbered among my favorites ever since we met by literally running into each other our first day of college. He is loyal, passionate, and when we were orientation leaders on campus we had matching WILL & GRACE shirts... AND matching Noah-Pea & Bethie-Poo shirts (ah, college).

Awesome MOB, FOB, MOG, and FOG. That'd be our parents. They all like us, and they all like each other, and after being in lots and lots of weddings, I tell you what - this is a blessing not to be taken for granted. Actually, I'll extend this list item to fantastic family, in general. 

A Tentative Date. Which shall not be revealed until we have things like a confirmed venue. Which is one of this month's major goals: get a venue confirmed.

A Chuppah Builder. If you're unfamiliar with what a chuppah is, the short answer is "wedding canopy," and a beautiful longer explanation lives here. We won't be purchasing a chuppah, we'll be purchasing construction materials and letting our friend Richard do the real work of building it. Richard is a dear friend, a self-proclaimed curmudgeon (especially when he's hungry - which is something we have bonded over), a marvelous/loyal/book-reading gem of a man, and the most talented theatre professional anyone could ever hope to meet. His set design and construction skills are incredible, and I can't even tell you how grateful we are that he's taking on chuppah construction.

That's the starting point. With less than eight months to go, we have our work cut out for us in filling out #TheList. But we'll get there. With a team like this, how can there be any doubt?

#TheList
1. A Partner
2. Two Men of Honor
3. Fantastic Family
4. A Tentative Date
5. A Chuppah Builder

*To be clear, an aisle has yet to be procured.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

On Equal Hearts and Broken Glass (Or, One Mississippi Bride-To-Be Reflects on Today)

Today. Because of today’s Supreme Court decisions, I am going to jump ahead to a topic I wasn’t going to address here just yet. But here we are, so here we go: equality, y’all.
Cake Topper Couple-Approved (Image from Reuters)

Today’s news from the Supreme Court is causing big reactions. In most of my personal circles (most, but not all) the reactions are overwhelmingly joyous, hopeful, relieved, proud. But even among those reacting joyfully, there is hesitation. A quick tempering of the joy. Because this not an end-all, be-all victory. It’s just one more step.

The SCOTUS blog provides  “in plain English” a good, succinct overview of what today’s rulings on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and California's Proposition 8 (Prop 8) do and do not mean. Cracked puts together a pretty snarky overview, as well, for those who need it (incidentally, d’you see which state they give as the example of “you’re still outta luck?” Yeah, that’d be Mississippi).

I have always considered myself equality-minded, but over the years I have developed a more nuanced relationship with the equality movement, on all fronts. I believe equality means everyone, at the expense of no one. That whatever your ethnicity, orientation, identity, financial reality – by virtue of being a person, the baseline should be that people are equal.

We are so far from there.

I’ve been made hyper-aware of my own privilege – and while equality does not just mean marriage equality, let me tell you, thinking about my own upcoming marriage, not as a hypothetical but as an on-the-calendar-reality… that privilege has been highlighted, underlined, and exclamation-pointed in my mind lately. Something to think about, something to act on, something not to take for granted. A little over a year ago, I was thinking about the difference between hoping to get married vs. hoping to be legally permitted to do so, and pondering the inequality inherent in that difference.

So, it's probably not a surprise to anyone who knows me well that I’ve been thinking, already, about ways we can acknowledge equality at our wedding. The two of us making a contribution to an equality-focused charity in honor of our nuptials. Distributing white knots for equality on the big day. And something very personal, spiritually speaking: shattering some glass.
Caution: Breakable.
Breaking a glass is a traditional part of the Jewish wedding ceremony. It’s the one part everyone knows about – you break a glass and yell mazel tov, right? Right! But why do we break a glass? There are many explanations; most of them revolve around the idea that even on your most joyous day, you should take a moment to acknowledge that there is pain in the world. Whether it commemorates oppression, the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the fragility of life—or inequality. 

And that’s what I’ll be thinking about when the cup shatters on our wedding day: inequality. The pain that will exist until everyone has equal rights, including the legal right to marry the love of their life.

I know some straight folks who have vowed that they will not marry until all of their friends can, too. That is noble, and to be honest, I considered that choice. But in the end, I want the legal protections of marriage. I want them for myself, for my partner, and yes, for everyone – and I couldn’t see how refraining, myself, would help anyone. And I can see how raising my voice, as a married person, to say: “Our marriage is not threatened by marriage equality, it’s strengthened by it!” might even be helpful.

Because that’s what I believe. DOMA was never defending our future marriage, or anyone else’s – what it was doing instead was attacking the marriage rights of many.

It wasn’t defensive, on any level. It was offensive, on many.

Today’s news does not represent the end of a movement, but it does represent forward movement. A big, important step. And if you ask me, any step forward is worth celebrating; and while I still know that my partner and I are incredibly privileged to be planning the wedding we’re planning, I’m also feeling a little more optimistic today that soon that privilege will become a right for so many more people.

Talk about off season. This day is long overdue. So, with a little tempering of the joy but also a good dose of mazel tov, here's to dancing with each step forward, white knots, broken glasses, and hearts full of love.

L’chaim!

Sunday, May 19, 2013

My Sister Lives in a Van

I promised good characters in this adventure, right? So here’s one. My little sister (seven and a half years younger than I am, far for more freckled, much better metabolism) and her boyfriend live in a van. 

For real. So does their dog.

Van Dog. (Dog van Dog?)
They used to live in an apartment, but earlier this year, they decided to take their show on the road. Literally. They sold most of their stuff, bought a van, and started driving around to see the country and peddle their music. With their powers combined, Van Sister and Her Boyfriend form a band called Scuttlebuggs,and they recently released an album. It’s great and you can listen to it for free! Even better, after you listen to it, go ahead and pay the few bucks it costs to download your own copy. They live in a van, people. They need your dollars.

Here are some additional pictures of said van, in case you need some proof:

Bed van Bed...

Sister van Sister...

Can you spot the Toilet van Toilet?!
Recently, they headed down South, including through our neck of the woods, so all members of Scuttlebuggs (dog included) stayed with us for a few days. The stories they shared of their couch-surfing and van-sleeping adventures made the Fiancé and I feel really, really dull by comparison. While we’ve been living in a rental townhouse with sad old carpeting, they’ve been shacking up with Sexual Libertines in New Orleans! Sharing camping space with toothless ex-cons in the Ozarks! Sleeping in Walmart parking lots and going for days on end without showers!*

This is not the first time my sister and her dude have done something crazy. And had it work out. You should ask them about the time they spent 6 weeks trekking through Cambodia, Laos, Thailand and Vietnam. Or the time my sister basically inadvertently landed a national Walgreens voice-over gig - yeah, she's the voice in this spot (and several others):


Basically, as my brother says, the sis and her dude are magical-fairies, and things just don't work the same way for other people as they do for those two.

That's my sister. Who lives in a van.

Van Sister and Her Boyfriend were officially the first family members to see us post-engagement. They brought a bottle of champagne, and we toasted with mimosas all of the good times and giggles and potential madcap antics ahead. Because with a supporting cast like this**, you know this show is destined to be epic. Or at least marginally bizarre.

My sister's boyfriend (Boyfriend van Boyfriend)
gives The Fiancé  & me two thumbs up.
*This is 100% true, but in this instance rather than feeling dull by comparison we felt squeaky clean. Sparkly, even.
**Seriously, fun and fascinating as Van Sister and her boyfriend are, they’re not the only colorful characters in our pack of friends and family. And we’re not actually all that dull ourselves…