These posts are so few and far between right now that it takes some serious counting to figure out what day I’m on. Thank goodness for giant desk calendars.
Things have happened:
- We started playing soccer again. Stephie likes to say that the heat is oppressive. When she says this I imagine a giant flame person (think Hades in Disney’s Hercules but red instead of blue. same amount of sarcasm) standing high above us and shouting at us to move faster in building the pyramids (a la The Prince of Egypt). I’m not sure why my mind goes there but it does. Every time.
- We went to a Spoleto performance titled Havana Rakatan. It was like Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights without dialogue. I was loving it. Cuban choreography and music really do it for me. My Grandad, who I am not biologically related to, is of some sort of Spanish descent (don’t get on your high horse and chastise me for not listening to the old man…he literally doesn’t remember where he’s from). I often wonder if his deeply suppressed Hispanic culture seeped into me when I was an infant. I would suggest that perhaps my biological father comes from some sort of ethnic background but have you seen me? This is very unlikely. What I imagine is most likely to be true is that in a former life I danced flamenco in an Andalucian cave with my fellow gypsies. I think my next life will be as a rock climber.
- My grandad’s cancer spread to his brain.
- John, or LC as I like to call him (Lord Chamberlain is a mouthful. Also this is probably news to him), came to town earlier in the month. We went to the only vineyard in the area (mmm Muscadine wine) and drank wine slushies and did the Electric Slide and played Settlers of Catan and on the taxi ride home I definitely did not puke on the side of the road…except that I definitely did.
- Steph and I traveled to Greenville this past weekend to celebrate a few birthdays and, with the help of some very devoted family members, made 60 bucks eating an entire watermelon in an hour. Guaranteed the pictures from this event will come back to haunt me regularly. But we did it for the money! (and yes, there is a literal Mason Jar of change). And Steph, who absolutely detests the fruit, was a fucking champ. We spent at least 20 minutes later that night googling adverse side effects from too much watermelon. Nothing long-lasting as far as I could tell. Will keep you posted.
Wedding things that have happened:
- See #5 above
- Rentals, such as tables and chairs, have officially been booked! Contain your excitement though, because all of this means that I will no longer be building a tent or a dance floor. But I see many project ideas on pinterest with pallets, so hammering shit together may not be completely out of the realm of possibilities.
- As of right now we are only renting two porta potties but I’m considering a third simply so that the signs will read “Men”, “Women” and “Unicorns.” Unicorns is my way of saying unisex. Because even if NC won’t allow it, it sure as hell won’t stop me! The jury is still out on this one but I think I can bring her around on the idea.
- How much glitter is too much? Is there even a too much? Does Bath & Body Works still make those roll on glitter sticks, or did those get left behind after Y2K?
- We are soon traveling to Salisbury, aka the site of the future wedding, aka the birthplace of LC, aka the home of my future family that I’m not actually marrying into but it feels like I am and can I please come on the next family vacation aka the town that gave us Cheerwine aka the Simpson Farm. When we’re not busy celebrating America we will be busy with the tiny wedding details. Especially lighting. Apparently when it gets dark we have to make it so that people can see…I don’t understand why everyone can’t simply pack their night vision goggles but I mean whatever. Who am I to tell you how to live your life. I have set up an appointment to get my hairs did so fingers crossed that goes well. Steph and I have tried to keep our day of look from each other, from the dress down to the jewelry. But because I refuse to wear a sack over my head for the entire day, she is inevitably going to see my hair. Who knows though, maybe I’ll show up on our wedding day bald, just to throw her off. The last thing on the list for the weekend, and the one I am MOST excited about, is our cake tasting. Have you ever seen The Wedding Singer? Adam Sandler, Drew Barrymore? It has that iconic scene where they’re on a plane and Adam tells Drew via song that he wants to grow old with her? Anyways, there’s this wonderful montage with cake tasting and Hall and Oates’ You Make My Dreams and obviously I want to recreate all of it. I informed Steph last night that we will be screening the film prior to our departure. (Ah yes, and now I have the title for today’s post…)
#5 leads me into my next point. When we booked this cake tasting, we did it the way we did most everything else, blindly. We read a few reviews, got annoyed with all the over thinking, and ultimately decided to go for it. I of course immediately thought of that lesbian couple in Oregon who sued the bakery that denied them a cake upon learning of their sexual orientation. I shared with Steph via text that I hope when the baker realizes we’re two ladies (insert Cabaret song here) that he doesn’t shove us out the door. With a quick followup that went something like, “or maybe I hope he does because then we can sue him for a ton of money and pay for our wedding AND honeymoon AND exploit the plight of gay people everywhere.” She laughed at my wildly inappropriate joke. She did not laugh at the idea of being discriminated against and ultimately embarrassed and shamed. So she immediately called the baker to tell him that we are luvahs. He replied like the lovely gay he is and informed her that he is absolutely bi sexual. (ah. kindred spirits). I laughed when Steph told me that she called him. I thought it was absurd because I was obviously joking and there was no way that would happen to us. But then Orlando happened.
I of course recognize that discrimination is everywhere and in every state. But I have never been afraid to be gay and I have never thought twice about showing affection in public. I also know that this is not true for almost every other gay in this world (I made up this statisitc, please do not cite me). I’m not positive why this is but my guess is that it has something to do with age. Most of my fellow gays knew well before the age of 21, or at least suspected, that their sexual preference was different from the norm. There are also quite a few out there who were raised in oppressive environments (family, church, town, etc.) and were taught to live in fear. Despite the fact that I spent the majority of my life in the Catholic school system, once I “realized” my true self, I was pretty out and proud. I was never explicity told that being gay is bad, or at least, I don’t remember if I was. And because I’m still sort of a newb, there hasn’t been enough time for scary things to happen to or around me. I read the story of these two women and the cake and even though I recognized that I could easily be them, I equally thought it couldn’t happen to me. It sounds like I’m saying Orlando happened to me. I promise I’m not, because it absolutely did not. I was not directly affected by it in any way. I wasn’t there. No one I knew was there. Nothing has happened to me because of it. But suddenly I am aware.
Pride in Charleston is very late, it’s in August (more of that oppressive heat). I love the parade (because I love all parades) and many of the events leading up to it. But of course family vacation falls that week. I will not be staying the whole time and am therefore able to attend a few things including the parade. Steph, however, will be driving back sometime after the parade. I had it in my head that I would try to go to things solo, be adventurous and adult-like and also friend-less. But after Orlando I’m too scared to go by myself (here’s your chance to volunteer to visit and join me, gay or not). Maybe this will change in a few months and I’ll let my guard down again and forget about my fear. But I think something in me has permanently shifted. I’m not saying I’m going to reconsider holding Steph’s hand in public, or that I’ll stop encouraging good ole’ fashioned make out seshes in the park, I’m just saying I think I’m going to be more cognizant of what the people around us are doing. And that makes me sad. Because the only person I should be focused on is my person.
My heart aches for the families and friends and neighbors of the victims. They suffered a devastating loss that I cannot even begin to comprehend. My love and empathy stretch to those too whose eyes were woken, who felt the shift. And I hurt for all the youth, but especially in the LGBT community, who lost a piece of their innocence. And above all the victims, who left this world far too soon.
I hold Steph extra tight these days and I feel thankful that I am alive and that I am loved. I know this one ends on a bit of a somber note, but I felt strongly about writing at least a little something on this topic. I should stop apologizing for the sad posts…sometimes shit happens.
See you later, sweet potater
P.S. I just looked at my calendar, happy first day of Summer!
because I can’t find the cake montage anywhere