I am often amused at the notion that gay marriage will bring on sex with animals.
While I would concur that most of my lesbian friends talk way too much about their dogs, I have no fear of that boundary being violated behind closed doors in anyone's home.
I think it unlikely that headlines will ever shout out, "snow monkey feels deep connection to Minneapolis woman.
" Quite frankly, many lesbians aren't even having sex with their own partners.
It's not personal; just too much cuddling can lead to too little sex.
Sometimes we forget that a little sweat never killed anyone.
It is unlikely that any lesbian is going to hook up with some species that isn't going to contribute to the mortgage.
We are just too smart for all of that.
I have never been married; though have been in a nine and a 22-year relationship.
I have always felt pretty good about until someone said, "if you were really good at relationships, you'd only have been in one.
I was quickly relegated to feeling like the Elizabeth Taylor of the lesbian community.
It seemed odd to suddenly feel a kinship to someone married nine times, but I did.
Of course the ending of my relationship weren't my entire fault.
Is it possible they weren't Liz's either? OK, probably not.
Clearly, if we were to just think about Liz just one more time (I promise) we could say that the act of marriage, the act of ceremony, doesn't guarantee anything.
But, that's no reason not to do it.
Weddings are cool.
However, I haven't always felt that way.
When I think about my sister's big day, the preparation was only slightly behind the second coming of Christ.
Everyone remembers Julie Andrews wedding walk in the Sound Of Music.
Yes, my mother and sister thought that might be a nice model for them to emulate.
The best part of that movie scene is the nuns peeking at Julie behind the bars.
I too would have preferred playing some peek-a-boo than being in that burgundy chiffon bridesmaid dress with fishnet sleeves.
Yes it was 1980, but even then I knew that would be a poor excuse when we looked back at pictures thirty years later.
My sister's wedding was the first of many straight weddings I would be a part of in the 80s.
I got to a point where I would rather have my jaw removed than be in another one.
If you cared about me as your friend or sister, would you really make me wear something that looked like a pomegranate? I always wondered, did anyone think this through? And what were they smoking when they said yes, let's put all the girls in lime green dresses, with white straw hats.
Lesbians are another story.
No, when we say wedding, we mean business.
We give this stuff a great deal of thought.
I like to call us, "wedding thought leaders.
" OK, perhaps our colors and fashion sense could use some occasional help from the gay men's community, but when it comes to the heart of the ceremony, that is "ritual," lesbians know rituals like no one else.
We spend months before weddings trying to come up with the perfect event to symbolize our love.
Perhaps, not everyone gets it in the end, but in the secret circle of lesbians...
we know what it all means.
Nothing is out of the question.
Water, stones, blood, alters, grass, flowers--you get the picture.
Our palate is huge.
It's the screening out which proves most difficult.
I've seen commitment ceremonies go on for hours.
Hence, the sensible shoe theory.
Rumor has it that God is always late to the wedding after the lesbian one, because ours tend to run long.
It's true that not every ritual works out as intended.
Some are too complicated.
That's the rub, hook people in, be creative, but no ritual should need a training the night before the night before.
When my friends Amy and Alice got married in 1991, we were all so touched that Alice's parents came from DC.
Even then, they were ten days older than God.
Her parents were 100% Swedish, quiet, a bit deaf, but lovely.
Amy and Alice had created a ritual where during the ceremony we would all walk up and pour water from a vase into a plant.
Yes, we were nurturing their relationship; we were the nutrients that would help them grow as women and as a married couple.
We were planting their "garden of life".
Of course there would be song, poetry, lesbian improvisational dance, and a possible name change.
(Lesbians have historically railed against their birth name, and would often change it.
Linda became Wren, Jackie became Spring Song, and Becky, always on the edge, took on Minstrel Blood.
She let her closest friends just call her MB) Alice's father Elmer, decided to lead the charge to show his love, affection and acceptance.
A slight problem though was that Elmer wasn't fully briefed on the ritual.
Given that he only hears every 4th word, he apparently only heard water and pour.
The rest we surmised was a mystery to him.
He got up in front of 75 people, went to the front of the seats, kissed Alice and Amy and proceeded to pour water from a lovely vase into a bucket under the table.
Later on we heard he thought the plant was just a nice decoration, there for cosmetic purposes.
Of course there was a gasp under the tent.
We had planned that ritual for months, we had weighed so many options, there were so many lesbian rituals to evaluate, try, eliminate, and get consensus on.
It was exhausting.
You can't really define a good ritual; you just know it when you see it.
This ritual was clearly simple, elegant, and sent the root/life message.
The next person in line was Alice's mom, she only hears every 5th word, just water I guess, but she saw Elmer demonstrate his love for Alice with the bucket and thought she too would pour water into the crusty, paint splattered container.
What were the rest of us to do? Certainly no one wanted to embarrass the Jacobsons' and so we too filled up the bucket.
As one would guess, with 75 people, the water in the vase went quickly, so some genius decided to pour the water from the bucket back into the vase so that everyone could partake in this symbol of love, over and over.
This ritual outlasted most of the music, dance, and occasional whimpering from Amy.
She of course had just come to appreciate the family she was entering.
We all said later, at least the Jacobson's came! Amy's family lived 3 miles away and couldn't find their way there.
Apparently an epidemic of migraines hit the Taylor family.
They too admitted it was shocking that a family of two parents, and four siblings who didn't live together could all get sick at the same time.
Stranger things have happened I suppose...
Rumor has it that the snow monkey reported later on that he was leaving the Mpls.
woman because he needed more time alone.
Yeah, commitment is tough.
While I would concur that most of my lesbian friends talk way too much about their dogs, I have no fear of that boundary being violated behind closed doors in anyone's home.
I think it unlikely that headlines will ever shout out, "snow monkey feels deep connection to Minneapolis woman.
" Quite frankly, many lesbians aren't even having sex with their own partners.
It's not personal; just too much cuddling can lead to too little sex.
Sometimes we forget that a little sweat never killed anyone.
It is unlikely that any lesbian is going to hook up with some species that isn't going to contribute to the mortgage.
We are just too smart for all of that.
I have never been married; though have been in a nine and a 22-year relationship.
I have always felt pretty good about until someone said, "if you were really good at relationships, you'd only have been in one.
I was quickly relegated to feeling like the Elizabeth Taylor of the lesbian community.
It seemed odd to suddenly feel a kinship to someone married nine times, but I did.
Of course the ending of my relationship weren't my entire fault.
Is it possible they weren't Liz's either? OK, probably not.
Clearly, if we were to just think about Liz just one more time (I promise) we could say that the act of marriage, the act of ceremony, doesn't guarantee anything.
But, that's no reason not to do it.
Weddings are cool.
However, I haven't always felt that way.
When I think about my sister's big day, the preparation was only slightly behind the second coming of Christ.
Everyone remembers Julie Andrews wedding walk in the Sound Of Music.
Yes, my mother and sister thought that might be a nice model for them to emulate.
The best part of that movie scene is the nuns peeking at Julie behind the bars.
I too would have preferred playing some peek-a-boo than being in that burgundy chiffon bridesmaid dress with fishnet sleeves.
Yes it was 1980, but even then I knew that would be a poor excuse when we looked back at pictures thirty years later.
My sister's wedding was the first of many straight weddings I would be a part of in the 80s.
I got to a point where I would rather have my jaw removed than be in another one.
If you cared about me as your friend or sister, would you really make me wear something that looked like a pomegranate? I always wondered, did anyone think this through? And what were they smoking when they said yes, let's put all the girls in lime green dresses, with white straw hats.
Lesbians are another story.
No, when we say wedding, we mean business.
We give this stuff a great deal of thought.
I like to call us, "wedding thought leaders.
" OK, perhaps our colors and fashion sense could use some occasional help from the gay men's community, but when it comes to the heart of the ceremony, that is "ritual," lesbians know rituals like no one else.
We spend months before weddings trying to come up with the perfect event to symbolize our love.
Perhaps, not everyone gets it in the end, but in the secret circle of lesbians...
we know what it all means.
Nothing is out of the question.
Water, stones, blood, alters, grass, flowers--you get the picture.
Our palate is huge.
It's the screening out which proves most difficult.
I've seen commitment ceremonies go on for hours.
Hence, the sensible shoe theory.
Rumor has it that God is always late to the wedding after the lesbian one, because ours tend to run long.
It's true that not every ritual works out as intended.
Some are too complicated.
That's the rub, hook people in, be creative, but no ritual should need a training the night before the night before.
When my friends Amy and Alice got married in 1991, we were all so touched that Alice's parents came from DC.
Even then, they were ten days older than God.
Her parents were 100% Swedish, quiet, a bit deaf, but lovely.
Amy and Alice had created a ritual where during the ceremony we would all walk up and pour water from a vase into a plant.
Yes, we were nurturing their relationship; we were the nutrients that would help them grow as women and as a married couple.
We were planting their "garden of life".
Of course there would be song, poetry, lesbian improvisational dance, and a possible name change.
(Lesbians have historically railed against their birth name, and would often change it.
Linda became Wren, Jackie became Spring Song, and Becky, always on the edge, took on Minstrel Blood.
She let her closest friends just call her MB) Alice's father Elmer, decided to lead the charge to show his love, affection and acceptance.
A slight problem though was that Elmer wasn't fully briefed on the ritual.
Given that he only hears every 4th word, he apparently only heard water and pour.
The rest we surmised was a mystery to him.
He got up in front of 75 people, went to the front of the seats, kissed Alice and Amy and proceeded to pour water from a lovely vase into a bucket under the table.
Later on we heard he thought the plant was just a nice decoration, there for cosmetic purposes.
Of course there was a gasp under the tent.
We had planned that ritual for months, we had weighed so many options, there were so many lesbian rituals to evaluate, try, eliminate, and get consensus on.
It was exhausting.
You can't really define a good ritual; you just know it when you see it.
This ritual was clearly simple, elegant, and sent the root/life message.
The next person in line was Alice's mom, she only hears every 5th word, just water I guess, but she saw Elmer demonstrate his love for Alice with the bucket and thought she too would pour water into the crusty, paint splattered container.
What were the rest of us to do? Certainly no one wanted to embarrass the Jacobsons' and so we too filled up the bucket.
As one would guess, with 75 people, the water in the vase went quickly, so some genius decided to pour the water from the bucket back into the vase so that everyone could partake in this symbol of love, over and over.
This ritual outlasted most of the music, dance, and occasional whimpering from Amy.
She of course had just come to appreciate the family she was entering.
We all said later, at least the Jacobson's came! Amy's family lived 3 miles away and couldn't find their way there.
Apparently an epidemic of migraines hit the Taylor family.
They too admitted it was shocking that a family of two parents, and four siblings who didn't live together could all get sick at the same time.
Stranger things have happened I suppose...
Rumor has it that the snow monkey reported later on that he was leaving the Mpls.
woman because he needed more time alone.
Yeah, commitment is tough.
Source...