Gooooooin' to the secular civil marriage site of our choice and we're/Gooooonna get ma-a-a-rried...
Maybe they were still in good moods from the Pats victory, but the state Supreme Judicial Court reaffirmed yesterday that same-sex have the right to civil marriage in Massachusetts. Cranky mean people are already trying to put through legislation to stop it, but the earliest that could go into effect is 2006, so basically, same-sex marriages will be legal in Massachusetts starting May 17. Paaaaarty!
But lemme talk about those cranky mean people for a minute, because they're really confusing me. I'm not going to go off on a high-horse rant here; I really just don't understand their issue. Some of them talk about gay marriage being "an attack" on "traditional" marriage; on how it poses a danger to heterosexual couples.
Huh?
It's as if they believe there's a limited number of marriage licenses to be granted at any one time; a finite amount of love and committment available to the public at large. LOOK OUT! Here come the gay people to take it! HA HA Mr. and Mrs. Straight Person; we have swooped in and stolen your affection for each other, not to mention your Vera Wang gown, and we are OFF to Provincetown where we will have a gay old time while you breeders are wandering, frustrated and unloved, in the mires of your own tradition!
Gimme a break. So this ruling doesn't mean the fight is over, by any stretch of the imagination; I'm gonna do a little research and then come back with some things that you - yes, you! - can do to help support this ruling. Above and beyond putting up with me, that is.
Took my sister Bean apartment-hunting yesterday, trying to find her a place to live for when she starts grad school this summer. We checked out a few big apartment complexes, and we met another guy who was looking for an apartment too, so we started chatting. Bean asked him what he did for work, and he said "Christian hip-hop." At this point, Lying Real Estate Lady who was leading the tour came back so that was kind of the end of that conversation, and we didn't think much of it until we were driving home about four hours later and we both said, pretty much at the same time: "Christian hip-hop?!" We tried to think of what that would be, exactly, and I don't think we're quite there but here's what we came up with:
Tell all your nephews and tell all your nieces/That it's way cool to be down with Jesus.
Even a guy who coughs and sneezes/Has a good reason to rely on Jesus.
If there's something on your schedule, you better clear it/'Cause nothing's more important than the Holy Spirit.
I think we had more. If I remember them I'll add them throughout the day.
Forget lawsuits, forget FCC investigations; the real tragedy of the Janet Jackson Boob Incident is that they keep replaying the clip every freakin' half-hour, so I've had Justin Timberlake's "Rock Your Body" stuck in my head for two days straight.
So I just finished reading this. I was apprehensive about it, and avoided it for quite some time, because I was afraid it was going to be Prozac Nation 2: Electric Bugaloo, and the last friggin' thing I need right now is another piece of postmodern-Ophelia self-indulgent bullshit.
But I was really surprised: it's one of the most insightful books I've read in a while, and I found a lot to think about even outside the realm of eating disorders. Here's one of my favorite passages:
It has been argued that food and eating have replaced sex as our foremost cultural taboo. To some extent I agree with this but would point out that the taboo is not against food, or sex, or flesh, but against a loss of control. Our most hallowed virtue in modern society is self-control, personal "power"...If you thumb through the cannon of philosophy, you find Augustine and Co. speaking of women with the same fear and virulence that we now use to speak of food, as something "sinful", something that "tempts", something that causes a loss of control.
Word. Wanna know what drives me right up the wall? Listening to women apologize for eating. Listening to people talk as if the perfect diet - what we should all be striving towards - is not ingesting anything; as if every time we put something in our mouths, it is a small failure. I admit I am overly sensitive because of my history, but still - DUDE. It's fucking FOOD. Fuck Atkins, fuck South Beach, go eat some fucking bread. It's good for you.
See, now you got me all worked up. I think I'm going to go get myself this, and then I can stay up here on my soapbox all day long. Ha! Now, let's talk about that Janet Jackson halftime boobie show, huh?
Also, people who expect me to give a shit about anything having to do with Michael Jackson.
You know what’s a good phrase? Such-and-such gets my goat. It’s not as harsh as vehemently despising something, but it’s more than just being mildly annoyed. I started making a list of things that currently get my goat this morning when the Boy and I were eating breakfast and reading the paper. Here’s a few:
People who are big into “fathers’ rights”.
The hole in the bottom of my left sock.
People who hide their homophobia behind statements like “I don’t believe in discrimination against gay people; I just don’t think they should be allowed to marry.”
The respiratory virus that the Boy and I both have, which is rapidly turning our apartment into a Snots-R-Us subsidiary.
Being asked if I could come into work for an hour (“We know you’re sick! We just need you to help with one thing!”) and being stuck here all damn day.
If things continue to get my goat at this rate, I am going to have absolutely no goat left. What gets your goat?
So remember when I said the URL for this site and the new one would be the same? Yes, ha ha, it appears that may not be the case. You see, Blogger and I are...well, we're breaking up.
I tried to break the news gently, but Blogger was all I was there for you when no one else was and I held your hand through your very first posts and then I said If you really loved me you would have some internal commenting function and then, yes, I'm not proud of it but I may have made some mention of Blogger's less than overwhelming template selection.
It just got uglier from there, with Blogger threatening to leave the state with my archives and deny visitation, but I have good representation so I'm not that worried.
And I really am thankful to Blogger for the time we had together. It helped me get started with this whole process, and I got to make some great connections with other folks - connections which moved from virtual to realtime earlier this week when I had a hot date with the twins. EV is very nice and quite intelligent and since those are the important things, it would be completely beside the point to mention the fact that she has lovely hair. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, EV - I figured out what role I can have in the all-girl Smiths cover band: I'm all over the strings part of "Girlfriend in a Coma". I just need to find another cello. And some music. And, um, ability. We'll talk.
And You Shall Know Us By the Fact That Our URL Is Exactly the Same As It Was Before
Big site overhaul in progress - watch this space.
I was thinking about what would happen if there was a Changing Rooms/Trading Spaces sort of thing for our online journals. (I'm phasing out the use of the word "blog". Feel free to see me as a trendsetter and do the same.)
You and your friend would switch templates for two days and redesign each other's sites, and then there would be a big dramatic reveal in which we see that I can't BELIEVE you got rid of my comments box in the name of aesthetics and what do you MEAN you don't like leopard print? Everyone likes leopard print.
OK, so me and the Boy were sick all weekend and watched some bad TV. We're Americans. That's what we do.
