Slacking off

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I’ve been slacking off on this blog…please excuse me. We’ve been packed since Sunday evening, but we were out of town Tuesday morning through Wednesday evening (although Marianne is still in Tennessee) to attend her dad’s funeral.

I’ve also been super-scattered because my wedding/event/thing is feeling more like a wedding/event/thing and less like a lesbian, political wedding/event/thing.

Which is fine.

Except that I don’t want to write (and you probably don’t want to read) about the fact that I can’t find wedding shoes or my almost meltdown because my rib cage won’t suddenly shrink and allow me to fit into a size 10 wedding dress and admit that maybe, just maybe David’s Bridal sent me the wrong size dress and I just didn’t suddenly get fat. Must channel my inner Jessica Coyle and her fabulous martial arts plan here!

What I will do, instead, is point you to a fantabulous blog post about What Really Matters.

From the post:

I would love to romanticize marriage as a transformative process, but the truth is, my relationship with Crystal is no stronger or more committed than it was before we were married. It did not signify monogamy for us, nor did it imply I would be popping babies out any time soon or at all. The impact of our marriage was not on our relationship, it was on our family

For the writer (and for me I think), marriage is a way to become understood by our respective families. Marianne and I and most of our friends understand our relationship, but for some folks in our blood-related family who don’t follow us on a daily basis and who aren’t heavily involved in our (or any) activist politics, marriage serves as a way to bridge a cultural (mis)understanding.

Marriage is part of a language they understand – tradition, culture, ritual – and it allowed them to feel included in our very non-traditional lives.

Sometimes, I feel torn between “buying into” the heteronormative marriage idea and raging against it – Cognitive Dissonance – but the post’s author helped me work through some of that.

How do we translate “queer” to our parents? Capture the politics of it, and explain how it deconstructs more than our sexuality? I am still figuring that out, but I don’t feel the need to reject my culture in order to be a radical queer.

Maybe I don’t translate queer.

It’s not that my parents wouldn’t understand it if I sat down and explained it, it’s just that it doesn’t really matter to me if they get it or not. What matters is my mom posting condolences to Marianne after her father died, my dad always asking about Marianne each time he calls, both of them wanting to come visit us in our new house in Greenville.

What matters is that they’re going to be there on the biggest two days (ha! we get two days!) of my life up until this point. And it’s going to be awesome!

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