Happiest Day of My Life

Most (maybe all, not sure) of the above photos are on Flickr (see link on sidebar), but I wanted to post them here anyway. I love reminiscing!

Working! My blog is working!

Hey, if you had trouble reading my whole posts about the wedding (if they would get cut off in the middle), I've changed the format and you can now read the whole wedding story (it's in 3 posts below). And please do! I loved my wedding a whole lot and I love comments almost as much ;) Not that I'm a comment whore or anything, but that wedding story- gosh, it's awfully romantic, mmmm.....

Um, a little news.

I wanted to get all the wedding stuff posted before breaking this part of the story, so now that it's all up there, here we go. J and I were just licensed as foster parents in Massachusetts on Monday and our first foster child is coming today. Actually, we met her last night and I'm going to pick her up today. She's two. I'll call her Sweetie. In honor of our insanity at becoming foster parents less than a month after the wedding, I've started a new blog. I think I'll continue to post wedding pictures here, as they come in, but I suspect most of the other stuff will be on Foster Mamas. See you there!

Wedding Story: Part 3

After the ceremony, it was time to part ways. Guests went off down the hill to the Northampton Brewery to enjoy a cocktail hour with crostini and fruit&cheese platters, and we went to Union Station to take pictures with our wedding party. Oh, my poor pictures. We got some pretty decent shots in there, but all we got for sun was a picture of J and I looking out the window at one point at the few minutes of sun there were. Ah, well. You can't have everything. We arrived at the reception, Rev. Steve introduced our sisters and then Kate and J Martini! We got a standing ovation as we walked in, I took over the mic from Steve and said our thank-yous, and then it was time for champagne! My brother-in-law Will made a lovely toast, followed by heartfelt and devoted words from our dear friend Tawanna. Dinner was served! Due to all the mingling we had to do, J and I barely got to eat our dinner by the time we were ready to cut the cake. My sister S's beautiful masterpiece cake was displayed on a mirrored table, complete with red roses, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and cocoa-covered almonds. We've got some lovely pics from the cake cutting, with only minor smearage. We had a fake, first dance for the photographer, some quick pics with VIPs, and a photo shoot with our friends' D&C baby Stuey, before the photographer had to leave, and then we were ready to dance. Thanks to sister S's partner Tim, we had a great time starting with our song "Sunrise, Sunrise" by Norah Jones (an instrumental of which we had walked down the aisle to just a few hours before), followed by romantic old jazz vocals, transitioning into more modern music as the night wore on. We danced and danced some more, getting some of my favorite pictures of all- even my Dad was cutting a rug! And singing to "Eight Days a Week"! And smiling! And having a good time! Holy crap! He was so great at the wedding, especially later on at the reception- I was floored, and we were both so moved by the love and dedication flowing in from all sides. Not just at the wedding, but throughout the whole engagement. It was truly a coming-together of our great, big, extended, chosen family. Late, late at night, we tossed our bouquets (an advantage of going to a lesbian wedding!) Unfortunately, though my mother insisted that I aim for my sister, and though I tried valiantly for Mom's sake, I wound up impaling her with it instead. Oops. And J's sister S, a very non-committal gal, there with her used-to-be-then-just-friends-for-a-while-now-on-a-hiatus-from-our-hiatus guy K, caught J's bouquet no problem. Ah, well. I think that tradition stinks anyway. Go ahead sis, tempt those fates! Little do they know who your wedding-coordinator is! Lemme at 'em!
We finally left the party at about 12:30 am, and headed to our hotel. Now, the chilled champagne and chocolate strawberries were nice, as was the jacuzzi, but I was about ready to keel over. The combination of all the stress of the last several days, the heady emotional leap I'd just taken, the incredibly long day on little sleep, all the hairspray and pins, and my insano-monster-high-heels had taken its toll. We took the tub, but I couldn't stomach the champagne (and had only half a glass at the party- my tummy felt 10 sizes too small), and after extracting the crazy number of bobby pins from our heads and showering off the chemicals, we were out.
And up the next morning, only to realize that we had no shoes! And I sure as hell was not about to put the monster heels on again- my feet were still in some serious pain the next day. Stranded as we were until the delivery was made, we were late for our breakfast with friends. We made it eventually, and I am so glad to have spent a little extra time with my friend Kate and her Mom and Step-Dad. Those three were so important to me as a kid, and I was ecstatic that they were able to come all the way from Illinois and Ohio for the wedding. After breakfast was a little packing-time at home, and off we were on our honeymoon!
I love the Highlands Inn. Love it. I took J there on our first trip together, then again to propose to her, and that was our first honeymoon stop. We stayed in the most expensive room- it was a honeymoon after all (although I don't know if I won't be checking out that room every time now, that's the danger). Wonderful queen bed with a canopy, two-person shower, fireplace, comfy couch, two-person spa right in the room, and the tv on a swivel plate so it can face the couch or the bed or the spa. I'd like to say we did nothing but make sweet, sweet love the whole time, and don't get me wrong- we did plenty o' that, but the wedding also completely wiped us both out. We had not much left. And J got a bit sick. And I hate to confess it, but we watched the entirety of The L Word, Season 3 in two days. And had a darn good time, too. Dear goddess, that room was comfortable. The last couple of days of the honeymoon, we went to Montreal, which was ok, but I would reccommend having a plan for the public transportation system ahead of time. The walking was a little nutty. And I got sick. But it was fun talking to the waiters in French! And J got to tell the Border Patrol that I was her wife, twice! Tee hee.
So, now we're back and we're not sick anymore, and things are back to normal. Almost. Things feel a little different now, so subtly, but imperceptibly powerfully. She's my wife. And married life is good. I really hope I can be as good a spouse to her as she is to me. It's one big trip, this marriage thing! So far, it's pretty exhiliarating!

Wedding Story: Part 2

It was only a moment before she appeared in the doorway and was walking down the aisle, beautiful as can be. She looked like a goddess in her red dress and her thick, curly hair piled up behind her sparkling tiara. She made it to the front, smiling at me the whole way, and I was so glad when she was finally standing in front of me because we both needed to look into each other's eyes and telepathicly remind each other to breathe. Steve, our minister (who uncannily resembles a Beach Boy), opened with a warm and funny greeting, just the personality to put everyone at ease and in the mood for a wedding. My sister B had agreed to co-officiate and she was next, with a special remembrance of our grandparents, which I had asked her to write since J and I both have a special relationship with a grandparent who has passed away. J's last living grandparent, her Nana, was listening to the service on her Mom's cell phone because she was too ill to fly from Oregon- we have a great picture of her Mom dialing her phone as the service was about to start. We thought it was fitting to have a prayer by Steve after our remembrance. Then it was time for sister B to read a little Rumi:
“This marriage be wine with halvah, honey dissolving in milk.
This marriage be the leaves and fruit of a date tree.
This marriage be women laughing together for days on end.
This marriage, a sign for us to study.
This marriage, beauty.
This marriage, a moon in a light-blue sky.
This marriage, this silence fully mixed with spirit.”
A few tears were being shed already, but nothing could prepare us for the amazing voice of our friend Kahlil, who sang "So High" by John Legend. He sang so beautifully and with such passion for this wedding that he was so happy for, most of us were pretty weepy by the end. J and I stood with arms around each other, and I could tell as J got choked up- it was a truly beautiful moment.
A Community Vow was especially meaningful to us, hearing from 60 of our nearest and dearest that they will be our supportive community in the long run, helping us to make and maintain a strong marriage. I didn't turn around to see if my folks agreed, but it was great to hear that resounding "We do."
Rev. Steve then gave his Charge to the Couple, a spiel he writes specific to each couple he marries, drawing on their story and their strengths to provide his clerical advice. Or, as he called it at the rehearsal, "his 39-year-old bachelor advice to the gay couple getting married." He had everybody laughing on the funny parts of our meeting and engagement, and nodding on the soulful advice on this marriage thing. Sister B read from a Hindu love poem:
“Let the earth of my body be mixed with the earth
my beloved walks on.
Let the fire of my body be the brightness
in the mirror that reflects her face.
Let the water of my body join the waters
of the lotus pool she bathes in.
Let the breath of my body be airlapping her tired limbs.”
From the tealights that each guest had lit upon entering the sanctuary, J and I each lit our own taper and used the light and love we've received from all these beloved people to light our Unity Candle. The picture here is from this part of the ceremony.
Having handed our flowers to our sisters before the Unity Candle, our hands were free to do our vows and rings. My vows were actually more like a Niagara-Falls-Cryfest. I could not stop crying. I barely made it through. I even had to screech a couple of words in order to get them out. Yeesh- embarrassing. Anyway, I think I did a pretty good job with the writing, at least. I think I'll post our vows together a bit later. Following our own vows, we made a little twist on traditional vows and said the following together:
“I will love you, hold you, and honor you.
I will respect you, encourage you, and cherish you.
In health and sickness,
Through sorrow and joy,
For all the days of my life.”
As "a symbol of our love and fidelity" we exchanged our rings- plain but wide bands of gold, cut to fit our engagement rings, and engraved with our wedding date.
Having signed on the proverbial dotted line, Rev. Steve pronounced us married, saying "Josianna, Kate- by the powers invested in me by the state of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you legally and sacramentally married- partners in life forever more. "
Sister B read one last excerpt from Rumi, inviting everyone to party!
“Come along! Today is a festival!
Clap your hands and say ‘This is a day of happiness!’
Who in the world is like this bridal pair?
The earth and the sky are full of sugar.
Sugar cane is sprouting all around!
We can hear the roar of the pearly ocean.
The whole world is full of waves!
The voices of Love are approaching from all sides.
We are on our way to heaven!
Once upon a time we played with angels. Let’s all go back up there again.”
Off we swept, returning down the aisle I had walked. Despite a little snafu with the timing, our recessional worked out quite perfectly: We recessed to the tune of "L-O-V-E" as sung by Natalie Cole, and four of our buddies hiding up in the balcony dropped a gorgeous satin banner of each letter.
Some of my favorite pictures come from after the wedding. The damn weather did, in fact, rain on our wedding. But the faboo pictures under our big, black umbrellas just as we left the church, made up for it a little bit. Our great gaggle of guests even downed their umbrellas for a five group shots on the steps, putting up with the raindrops just for us.

High ho! Scroll down two posts for the wedding story!

Just a little picture-fix

I'm working on a long wedding-story in draft right now, but it's not finished and I'd like to be able to include a ceremony picture in it, which I don't have, yet. However, I thought I'd put up a picture from our bachelorettes' night out, two days before the wedding. Behold, the boobie cakes!

Interrupting this wedding season to report...

Don't worry folks, I will post pictures and the story of the wedding shortly. I just had to post to say that the YMCA just left me a message to "see how I'm doing". See how I'm doing. Yeah. Right. They're calling because I've been a huge gym slacker for a really long time!!! I've been faithfully wasting my $50 a month for quite a while now. And they know! My little card with the barcode is allowing the Great Gym Guilt Trip conspiracy to transpire! Maybe other gyms do this all the time, I don't know, but I find this shocking. And feel surprisingly guilty. Very guilty. I suppose I'll now, oh so sheepishly, slink back into the Y this week. Damn drill sargents.

Our Wedding Story: Part 1

Ok, so getting a ceremony picture is harder than I thought- no more waiting. Here's part one. I'm going to post pictures in their own posts. And so we travel back to the last week of August...
Placecards, programs, vendor details, traveller issues, table markers, candles, decorations, and a million other things consumed the week before the wedding. J's Mom and Dad were sleeping on our futon in the living room and thank goodness for them, otherwise I'm pretty sure we'd have had none of the above finished. Friday was dinner out with about 10 of our VIPs at The Teapot for Chinese and Japanese cuisine, followed by a bachelorette-style night that started with boobie cakes and vulva pens, and ended at the gay club (in fact the only club) in town. Saturday held lunch at the Woodstar cafe where we started our first date and then a tour of "our story" around town for our friends and family, followed by the wedding rehearsal. Nothing quite like rehearsing a wedding with no music because half the power is out in the building! Sound-man T figured it out at the end though and we had at least a little practice. Still no processional, though, as our singer Kahlil was not scheduled to arrive by plane until midnight. My Mom is awesome and threw a great rehearsal dinner with the help of my aunts, with lots of tasty food like lasagne and bruchetta, and a very sweet celebration of my Aunt Bev and Uncle Jim's 48th wedding anniversary. How auspicious! Festivites were fun, but we were back at home pretty soon after in order to finish up more wedding stuff- and just the week before I had felt so ahead of schedule! So much for that.
That all being a huge blur, I was still finishing up J's wedding present from me at 2AM Sunday, while she was answering the phone from a deep sleep and then rushing to work to fax her signature and license to the rental car company that wouldn't take our wedding singer's card at the airport. We got a fitful 6 hours of sleep, and saints like my sister, her partner, and our singer friend got even less. Sis was up all night with J's friend Heather frantically whipping up buttercream and finishing the cake, her partner T stayed up finishing the soundtrack for the evening and then went to bed waking up every hour or so from dreaming he'd fallen asleep at the computer and hadn't finished the music, and our friend and singer Kahlil didn't get in until about 3:30AM and had to get up bright and early to go rehearse. We LOVE all of these people. There would be no wedding without them. Thanks a million to all.
Now it's 8AM Sunday and we are off to the races! We're in the living room, making impossibly high piles of stuff that must go to the ceremony and reception sites, courtesy of J's parents. I'm making lists of what must go where and when, how to use the stuff, and instructions for bringing our dresses and such to the get-ready site. J's running around getting things together and trying to get me out the door, shouting instructions behind us at J's parents as we leave. We arrive at the UU too late for the morning service, the doors are locked, and so we get no practice of the processional with Kahlil- we're officially winging it! Woo hoo! This was ok anyway, as we were right on time, arriving at our friends' P&J's house at noon to start getting ready.
That was it. 12 noon. Zero hour. That was the point at which I no longer had any control whatsoever over what was happening with this wedding anymore. Everyone had their instructions and their emergency contacts, spelled out on my painstakingly organized index cards I had written for each person, and I was under the curling iron and oblivious to what was really happening at the UU or at the reception site. I think Bridezilla took that fact with grace. Unless I'm repressing any memories of primal screams and attempts to break out a window to go stage-manage. But I don't think so.
Getting ready at P&J's house was so happy for me- Jon was the one who set J and I up on our blind date in the beginning, P is a wonderful friend and kindred spirit, and their own wedding just two months ago was such a joyful witnessing of the union of two of the most amazing people on the planet, I'm honored we were able to prepare for our wedding at their new home.
So, us ladies (J and I, and our two sisters S&S) were getting hair curled and pinned and sprayed, makeup getting done, blemishes covered, teeth brushed, taping my sister's gown straps to her skin to get them to stay, etc., and meanwhile our incredibly-comfortable-with-his-masculinity friend Jon was cooking us breakfast, chatting with the hairdresser, and serving up fruit and cheese snacks.
A little later, Jon ironed his pants in his towel while I stood next to him getting my gown and veil settled- I love the pictures of this particular moment. We love him a lot. He starts radiation tx soon, so please think good thoughts for him.
We have so many amazing moments on film from these precious three hours. The flowers arriving and being displayed. J and I pinning corsages on our mothers' dresses (and looking very perplexed). My Mom lacing up the corset-back on my dress (and looking very perplexed). J's Mom clasping her necklace around her. We had to switch moms now and then, so we have a couple of J's Mom sinching up my dress, too. S&S getting ready. Kisses and hugs. Finally all ready, bouquet in hand, all alone (except Mr. Photographer). And as we were just about to head out the door to the church (only 5 minutes late!)
My Dad surprised me by showing up to drive me and Mom to the UU. Once safely hidden at the church, we waited downstairs for only a minute or two, touching up lipstick, clutching bouquets, looking nervous. Then suddenly my Bro-in-law was rushing down to tell us it was time, the processional was playing- Kahlil's instrumental adaptation of "Sunrise, Sunrise" by Norah Jones- and S&S were on their way down the aisle ahead of me. My wonderful friend P told me when they had reached the front, and now it was my turn. So much was happening so quickly, I feel as though I can hardly remember the rest. I mean, I remember- of course, I remember walking down the aisle, worrying if I was walking too fast, smiling and nodding at particular friends, wobbling a little on my shoes, looking at my sister as I walked in front of her, listening to our song played in this beautiful, slow, instrumental way, reaching the front and looking at our officiant and my oldest sister and co-officiant B, checking to be sure I was in the middle, turning to await J's appearance in the other aisle- I remember all those things, but it seems as though another force was carrying me through it all, preventing me from falling over or crying or puking or any of the other things my anxious mind might have done at that all-important time. Bridezilla came through for me after all, producing sure steps and a constant smile and support to keep standing there waiting for her.

Introducing...

The all-new Martini family! We did it! See y'all after the honeymoon.

Ooh- ooh- it's working!

Woo-hoo! Back down to 60% again! And down to "showers" instead of rain. Woo! Keep focusing those thoughts and prayers! All I need is an hour of sunshine at 5PM Sunday! Come on! Put your minds to it!

And it just gets better every time I look at it.

Now the forecast says not just 60% chance of rain- we've upgraded to a 70% chance of rain/wind. Why don't they just come right out there and say it- it's going to be a big, fat storm. I try not to curse too much, but really I just have to say... shit.

Ah, so this is what hyperventillating is like...

Wow, Bridezilla is in full swing today, trying to get everything wedding-related done in the next 45 hours. Picking up keys for the church, meeting with yet another manager at the reception site (I don't know how they have so many and stay in business), picking up musical equipment, shopping, finishing programs, doing favor tags, etc. Oh yeah, and working. I wish I'd taken today and yesterday off, not just Thurs and after. The imminent-in-laws were staying with us the last three nights and boy am I glad! They made almost all of the programs, table markers, and wedding-bubble-thing-ribbons. And now they're in Boston picking up our recessional-banners and staying overnight at J's friend's apartment in order to do so. We love them. A lot. We don't love the weather report. Oh, the months I have spent deathly afraid that it would rain on my wedding day. Over the last couple of days the forecast for Sunday went from "Sunny and delightful" to "a 30% chance of a few showers" to "a 60% chance of rain." Plain old rain. Dammit, dammit, dammit! I basically consider this a waste of $1000 of photography- I hate the idea of all-indoor wedding pictures, and even though I think we've worked out a decent alternate indoor location to take them that is better than the church sanctuary, I'm reasonably certain I will be disappointed in the pictures forever. I've been manifesting all day long. Help me out if you don't mind- tell Ernesto to hit the road and don't come back!

Please God, don't turn me into my mother, yet!

I'm only 24! Just kidding- I love my Mom. And I loved our trial run at the hair salon on Saturday. Others seem not to agree with me, but when I looked in the mirror I really saw a lot of my mom when she was my age. Which was really nice, because usually I resemble my Dad a lot, and he's not a bad looking guy but I'd rather look like Mom. I wish I had a scanner so I could post a picture of her from her wedding. J doesn't know what I mean because she's not as familiar with those old photos, but I do agree with her thought- it's quite Marilyn, no? Squee!


And thank you to my wonderful sister! We loved our shower on Sunday! The decorations were really cute, complete with shiny plastic tiaras, and the food and gifts were lovely. After all of the Maid-of-Honor work, organizing and hosting our shower, making our wedding cake, and hosting 4 wedding guests at her home, my sister went even further- all these are more than gift enough, but she gave us our first set of matching, non-bungee-cord-held-together dining chairs! Woo hoo! Our guests can now stop worrying about their safety every time they sit down! Yay! And they're gorgeous!
Yesterday we met with our minister again and finalized most of the ceremony. We have most of the RSVPs in. Today we went to City Hall and applied for a marriage license which we can pick up Friday, and I am officially set to change my name! Holy cow! And J's parents are coming to stay with us Sunday. Now there are programs to design and print, a seating chart to create, a final food count to give to the Brewery, placecards and table markers to make, J's dress to fix, J's shoes to find (yikes), she's got vows to write, final decorations to find and make, wedding-day schedule to make, duties to delegate, preparations to make for getting a civil union in Vermont, honeymoon to pack for, on and on. Whee!

Universe, don't make me come up there!

No more crappy things are allowed to happen! Not for a long time! I'm putting my foot down! I just got a couple of emails and a phone call about our dear friend Jon- this is the guy who set the two of us up on our fateful blind date, who we plan on giving a special seat at our wedding, whose own beautiful wedding to our friend P we just attended a few weeks ago. At a routine physical a couple of days ago, an abnormality was discovered indicating that he has testicular cancer. He was under CT scan yesterday and in surgery today, they're trying to see if it has spread anywhere else, family is coming in from all over the place, and the newlyweds are sorting through all the emotional weight of it while struggling through insurance papers. Damn it, Universe- this is not ok! Jon gets better right away and no more of this crap or else! Off to make some reheatable meals...

I give up.

Now he's coming. After all that. I will never understand my father. He finally called last night, and I said I was planning on checking in with him today because Mom is away, so I guess he just waited until tonight to talk about that whole are-you-coming-to-your-daughter's-wedding-or-not business. Not that he talked about it much tonight, anyway. Pretty much just that he's coming. And a bit of ranting about Mom's reaction to his "for sale" sign- I really hate that, being a sounding board for one parent's hostility toward the other. I don't mind listening to my mom, because she's never hostile- usually just bewildered and upset. But Dad? Not so much. And he admitted to having stopped his meds (which I already knew via Mom, but was waiting for him to say). He is such a different person right now- morose, sarcasitc, impulsive, hostile, and not insightful about his actions. This is not to say he's perfect when he's on his meds, but I guess I didn't realize how much he had improved on them until he went off. BUT, I can't deal with all that right now. Wedding. Happenning. In 2 weeks and 4 days. Holy crap. That ticker is really freakin' me out now!
The final fitting was today! My dress is great- love it even more- S, you're going to have to learn how to do this bustle-thing from J- I don't get it. J's dress, though- not so good. Again. If you remember way back in May, we went to pick up her dress and it was in terrible shape (badly made) and we had to send it back and re-order it. So the re-ordered dress was fine. But, now the alterations people made the bodice too small. She looks alright, and the wrap that we bought definitely covers up any over-the-top-spillage, but it is pretty tight. Poor J- she cried on the way home! I'm not really sure what to do now- J's plan of eating nothing but salad for the next 18 days may not help. It's true she did lose a lot of weight over the summer and gain a couple of pounds back in the last week or two, but I really think they just adjusted the bodice in too much. And I can't think of any places to shop for fancy formal wear around here. The Running of the Brides is Friday, but she says she really wants to wear red, and of course all the wedding gowns there are white or ivory. This is the big project for the rest of the week- to fix the dress situation!
All is not crappy, though! Favors are finished! Unless we decide to make favor tags, but I'm just not feeling that into it. And I decided on those gosh darn pew decorations! That was 48 hours of unnecessary obsession. I have succumbed- bows of white and red wired ribbon. But they look much better than I thought they would, and I made 5 of the 12 last night. And I wrote my vows! Woo hoo! Sunday was a really blissfully beautiful day out at Poet's Seat Tower, overlooking Greenfield and the surrounding hills, and I sat up there for an hour or two and felt inspired. *sigh* Now I just have to say all that blithering, sentimental, shmush in front of everyone I know. ;)

3 weeks! Ai ai ai!

There's just something really neat about the phrase "welcome to the family". J's parents, sister, and several extended family members threw us a surprise shower yesterday. It being in Oregon, I couldn't be there, but J loves surprises and so was totally thrilled, of course. They bought red and white decorations with hearts and brought lovely presents and I think they went out for dinner. Since I'm back here in Mass, they called me up and passed the phone around so that I could "meet" everybody. They were all really sweet with their congratulations and welcoming me to the family and wishing they could come to the wedding (most are not, as it is very far away), and one promise to hitchike out here for it. I'm really glad J has such a great family. And lucky me, I get to marry in! It's nice to feel welcomed.
Meanwhile, the anxiety is setting in- 3 weeks left! My poor sister got dragged along with me yesterday as I wandered through Michael's craft store, contemplating pew wreaths and favors and ceremony decorations, listening to my fears about the weather. Still sitting here, contemplating... those pews.... those tissure paper flowers.... those chocolates...

Oh, crapping crap.

Tonight- the night that J is 3,000 miles away, the first night of her trip, when I am bound to be more nervous about all the bumps in the night, etc........ is the night that I walk into our bedroom to see a big effing spider on our wall that closely resembles a brown recluse. Like that picture there. Effing eff! Crapping crap! I, of course, called my personal critter-remover immediately, squealing in terror particularly when the thing dropped down from the wall onto our curtain. (Right now I am squoogling around, checking every little itch and twitch and searching the area around my chair every few seconds). Usually, when I absolutely must deal with the little darlings myself, I get a jar and put them outside. But THIS? No, no, NO! It was hard enough just to work up the courage to squish it with a flip-flop! And I didn't even spare my white curtain- forever shall the brown spot mark the creature's resting place. Of course, I then had to go Googling for pictures to see what kind it was, and people- it looks an awfully lot like a male brown recluse to me- very, very poisonous! And apparently most people who get bitten get it from clothes it's hiding in or from rolling over one in bed. Now, I cannot sleep in the bedroom. It is 1:30AM, and I have pulled out the futon in the living room with a comforter. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. Whoa, do I ever miss my girl! Miss her, miss her, miss her!

Girl in the sky

J went to the airport this morning to fly out to her grandmother's funeral, unknowingly heading toward the massive lines forming as a result of the London-terror-plot thing. I think she's finally made it onto her second flight now, but sheesh. Now I'm really worried! Flying makes me nervous anyway, so potential bombs made out of hair gel and baby lotion really exacerbate the anxiety. Though I'd much rather have her home, I really want her to be safely on the ground in Oregon soon!
However, the giant boxes on our doorstep from Bed, Bath, and Beyond are a nice distraction! We're not materialistic people here, but I admit it- I like presents. And it doesn't really matter that we already know what the stuff is since most of it is on our registry- we were both doing a happy dance in the living room last night when we unpacked our new Emiril pots and pans. Slogan: "The only cookware that makes me say BAM!" I effing love this set. I also love my friend EG who got us two of the four things that we registered for knowing that our guests would be thinking "WTF?": a dessert set just for making S'mores, and a neon green electronic footbath thingy. The other two things still on the list, you ask? A Shiatsu-massaging-chair-pad that we couldn't stop sitting upon in the store, and a 3-in-1 toaster that toasts your bread, poaches your egg, and warms your meat all at once so you can make breakfast sandwiches. Who comes up with this stuff?! I don't know, but I love it. And thanks to J's mom and dad for the pots and pans!

More tears

Just after settling in from our day at Dave's memorial service, J's parents called to say her grandmother has passed away. My poor girl was already pretty raw from the news about her friend, so things are pretty quiet and teary around here now. Just this morning I was listening to an interview on the radio and the speaker was saying that "there's nothing more powerful than the prayer of a grandmother." I'm sure she prayed for her granddaughter many times. So, we offer our prayers for her tonight.

When it rains...

Well, he wasn't there, so I wrote on the back of his silly note that he simply needs to call me and tell me yes or no. And that I thought it was really selfish of him to send that less than a month before the most important day of my life. And then my mom and I took off because neither of us had the energy or the patience to deal with it anymore- we went shopping in Noho and crashed my sister's place later, where my lovely Maid of Honor made us another test-cake: chocolate with rum-raspberry filling, mmmmmm. Exactly what we needed. That and the communal family rant-session about dad. Thanks, S.
So, the rain having been accepted, it started pouring. J's friend from her social work school internship last year, Dave, died a few days ago of a massive heart attack. She just found out a few hours ago and is pretty upset- she was really looking forward to seeing him at the wedding. I'd only met him twice, but am feeling pretty low about it, too- he was a great guy and this is definitely unexpected- I think he was only in his fifties. We'll be going to the service tomorrow morning.

In which I lament being the offspring of a big jerk

My father and I have always had a difficult relationship. He was distant and overly critical and mean to my mother while I was growing up. I really hated his guts during high school because of one particular time that he yelled at my mother and I overheard. Really. Hated him for years afterward- we barely spoke, though we lived in the same house. Then while I was in college, he was a huge asshole when I came out- I won't list off the many ways- I still had to live with him for a couple of months in there, and it's the only time I ever flunked school. Along the way, he's been a jerk in many other ways- trying to control the whole family with his money, treating my big sister like crap, being a jerk in general to my mother. We had a couple of ok years after he started to get over my coming out- we were healing a little, getting to know each other a little, he liked J. Then I got engaged to J, and at first he wasn't going to come to the wedding (this was a year ago). That was a big fight, but we hashed that out and he decided to come. Things were ok again until about a week ago.
My mother called me, upset that he'd stopped taking his anti-depressant again (he suffers from major depression and anxiety as well as social problems). He's generally nice when he's taking his meds and mean when he's not. So poor mom is at her wit's end. We all went to my sister's that Saturday, and he was making snipey, mean comments. Mom calls me again yesterday, this time in tears. Now, listen buster- I don't know who you think you're dealing with- nobody but nobody makes my mother cry! So I go over to see her and she's upset because of two things. First, she comes home from a meeting the other night to a "For Sale" sign in front of the house- dad in his manic state has suddenly decided that they must sell the house- immediately. So, having not been consulted about whether or not she wants to sell her home, she gets mad and they have a fight and now he's not speaking to her. Huh? Weren't you the one who picked a fight, mister? You don't get to be mad. Then, because he can't get his tires replaced right when he wants to (oh my gosh, he'll have to wait until Tuesday), he decides he wants to sell the car now. Hm, impulsive, alternately manic and depressed- bipolar anyone?) The second reason mom cried is that she found some kind of something- I don't know what- and she thinks he wants to divorce her, after 38 years of marriage. Which I would doubt, because he's certainly no prize (obviously) and I don't think he would survive without her, but she's upset. So, that's bad enough right?
Last night he calls to say I'd probably get something in the mail today from him, and that he wrote it when he was feeling bad and that "I shouldn't pay too much attention to it". I ask him if he wants me to just throw it away then (and I could- I have very good willpower about such things), but no he says to read it. And then immediately hangs up. WTF? So I get this letter, and read it (background note: when I was delegating duties for the wedding, I asked him to distribute our checks to vendors that day so we don't have to worry about it). "Kate, You should find someone else for your check distributions. My present state of mind does not permit me to participate. Perhaps my doctor's letter can explain my condition. Goodbye, Dad", attached to which is a doctor's note he just got from his psychiatrist to say he can't do jury duty. Do I have this right? My dad just gave me an effing doctor's note to get out of coming to my wedding. What the effing eff?! This is not the 8th grade! If you're not coming then just say so, you jerk! And don't excuse yourself on the basis of your "present state of mind"- you chose to feel this way when you chose not to take your meds anymore, so don't give me that bullshit! But that phone call- "don't pay too much attention to it". Does that mean he's coming? Or not, because he still told me to read it. And even if he is still coming- why the hell would he send me this stupid, hurtful letter less than a month before my wedding? He really is the most selfish person I've ever met. I've often thought, given the way he can't ever seem to respect anyone but himself, that he's stuck at the developmental stage where small children genuinely believe the world revolves around them. Sorry, for the rant, but whether he's coming or not- I'm really, really, really pissed. I'm going over there to find out right now.

Holy Crapola- One month left!

We have somehow arrived at the last four weeks of our 15-month engagement. How did that happen? August 3rd, folks- crunch time. Actually, we're feeling pretty good, having gotten many things done early. There's still a ton of stuff left to do, though. Like thank-you notes, seeing as we just got our first few wedding presents :) I like presents, I won't lie. It definitely feels a little funny to be getting presents like place settings and crystal candlesticks, though. I think that means we're grown ups now. Which is good because we just met with our social worker for the last time and all our references are in, so if the Commonwealth of Massachusetts indeed decides we are worthy as foster parents, we're most definitely going to have to be grown ups. Not yet, though- wedding first! Still to do: track down the twenty-one people who have still not RSVP'd, finish prep work for cake, finish music selections and find all remaining tracks for T, finalize ceremony and design programs, seating chart and placecards, figure out those pesky favors, finalize decor plans, pay balance on rings and have them customized, figure out hair, get J's shoes, go to final fitting and pick up gowns, decide on accessories, protect fingernails and whiten teeth, get gifts for various VIPs, delegate day-of duties, make bridal-emergency-kit, pay remainder of floral bill, confirm with all vendors, and, um, oh yeah- vows. Vows would be good. They are currently looming just large enough in my mind to render me speechless. I'm workin' on it!

Tasty Tasting

Yum, yum, yum! We had our tasting at the Northampton Brewery today. Not only did we get 4 free dinners, but our choices of Grilled Citrus Salmon, Grilled Marinated Flank Steak, Honey Ale Chicken, and Wild Mushroom Ravioli a la Vodka turned out to be fabulous choices indeed! Highly impressed we were! We even got to see the inner workings of our fave restaurant because we asked to see the refrigerator where our cake will be stored prior to the reception. Seating/dancing space is all settled thanks to the good advice of the manager. Windows are measured for our decorations. Music schedule provided to my sister, maid of honor, and partner extraordinaire of our music-man who desperately needed it. Now if we could only get those remaining 30 out of 70 people to RSVP! And cake tier plates in the right size. Oh, Michael's Craft Stores, how do I love thee? And why, oh why, don't you have the right size cake plates? Off to ebay, I suppose. In the meantime (not that anything else huge is going on these days), wish us luck for our job applications we've just sent out! And thanks!

Fair warning

to friends of bridezillas everywhere- when your friend or family member sends you her wedding invitation in June, asking for your reply by July 15th with a reply card that she and her crew painstakingly made by hand with an envenlope whose postage has already been paid for out of her very strained weddding budget... reply! Right away! Certainly by the RSVP date! Most certainly by a week after the RSVP date! There are poor souls behind you on the B List who need their invitations, but won't be getting them if I don't know which of you are not coming- are you flaunting your A List status at them? I'm trying to tame the bridezilla within, but I've run into one of the giant peeves of wedding planning, and she really wants to roll! Really- come on now, folks, this is not a birthday party or a family cookout- it's my wedding. And my wonderful family spent hours upon hours creating these invitations. And I spent a lot of money on postage, and it really irks me to waste a stamp. And really, the choices are not so hard- I know most weddings don't offer 4 choices of entree, but since we can't feasibly do a buffet in the space, we thought we'd offer a variety. Could it be that it is impossibly difficult to choose between Grilled Citrus Salmon, Grilled Marinated Flank Steak, Honey Ale Chicken Breast, and Wild Mushroom Ravioli a la Vodka? There is even space at the bottom specifically for y'all to tell me of your allergies and your vegan diets and your extreme aversions to onions. So fill it out and stick it in the mail! Arrrrr! Hear me roar!

Waiting... I hate waiting...

Sorry for the lengthy hiatus. Not that nothing's been going on- lots has been going on. Wedding 1, wedding 2, birthday party, dancing lessons (yes, I am enjoying looking entirely foolish as I try to Salsa), work, work, work. Oh yeah, and we finished our homestudy. Woo! And the reference thingies have been sent (and received by at least 2 of them). Not that this means much right now. We still get to wait. I have no problem with waiting because we're not planning on doing this at least until October anyway, but I just hate waiting for waiting's sake. And since the Massachusetts legislature decided yesterday to put off their vote on whether or not to put the civil rights of a minority up to the vote of the majority (i.e. the same-sex marriage ban) until November 9th, there's more waiting. That stinks because I wrote "Victory Day" and hearts all over yesterday in my datebook, but I guess it is a victory of sorts because it gives MassEquality and the MGLPC and the other organizations fighting the good fight more time to switch votes (and we still need a lot more votes.)
Fun tip of the week: high humidity wears out the batteries in your fire and carbon monoxide alarms. We've had the smoke alarm give us much too early and very rude awakenings twice this week, and I just had an afternoon shocker from the CO detector- they beep/go off when they get low. They're both sitting on the kitchen table with the batteries out so they'll shut up. Now that doesn't look good for our foster-care application. Off to the store for batteries!

Joy to the world!

Clarisse and Lucinda are married! Our dear friends tied the knot yesterday in the most beautiful wedding I've ever had the honor of attending. The ceremony was quietly amazing and incredibly moving, with a single classical guitar to accompany, family and friends there to support them, and the two beautiful brides we love. Apparently I've turned out to be a wedding-crier. I cried the whole damn time, start to finish. You'd think it was my kid's wedding, with all the tears and sniffles. It's ok, though- I'm a tears-of-joy kind of girl. I'm also a wake-up-at-3AM-having-a-panic-attack-about-my-own-ceremony-because-its-two-months-away-and-we-haven't-planned-hardly-a-whit-of-it-and-how-in-the-world-are-we-going-to-create-something-that-beautiful-and-amazing-how-how-how kind of girl. Back to the drawing board!

Whee!

Welcome baby Hannah! Two more new moms!

Now I'm really worried.

About the lone straight couple at our foster-parent-training class. Remember a few posts ago where I was worried about dealing with homophobic crap at the class and then we got there and 3 out of 4 couples are same-sex couples? Well, last night was the second-to-last class, called "Panel Night" where a panel of important voices was brought in to talk to us. I was killing myself trying not to laugh- the presenter on multicultural issues in foster care- lesbian. The Family Resource Liason- lesbian. The foster teen- queer. 3 out of 6 presenters. Wow. I really, really, really love the Happy Valley. And I feel really, really bad for that poor unsuspecting straight couple. The multicultural-issues presenter had said something earlier in the night about how we as foster parents who will probably foster children from different cultures than our own, should make a point to go out and "have a minority experience", for example by going to a service at an all-black church in the area or other event at which we would be a minority- just to get a sense of that feeling. So later, the leader of the class said something about same-sex couples in the class, and the straight guy was joking, "so, does this count for my minority experience?" We all had a good laugh. Yes, my friend, yes it does.

Victory lap

Nine hours of designing, printing, measuring, cutting, trimming, embossing, grommeting, decorating, addressing and stamping... and the invites are done! Pretty much anyway- we still have to buy more ribbon to finish them, find a few addresses, and do the postage. But it counts! And thank you so much to all the members of the assembly line today! Mom, Sister S, to-be-bro-in-law T, and my lovely J- what a team! I'd show the inside, but I can't seem to get an unblurry picture of it, so I can only share some of the words.

"Two lives, two hearts,

joined together in friendship,

united forever in love."

It's starting...

So J and I had a date tonight. One of those times we insert in our busy schedule to have quality time for just the two of us. And it started out great! Dinner at our favorite restaurant, where the turkey burger and roasted potatoes send me to Cloud 9 every time. That should have been followed by something like a movie or a show or even a board game at home. You know, togetherness. What we actually did? Went shopping and bought those three things up there. Like I said, it's starting already. That's ok, though, because now we get to go out again to make sure we have a real date. More QT!

Double whammy

Yesterday J and I both attended a training suggested by our employer (a crisis/outreach/dayhab/therapy mental health agency) about treatment of sexually abused children. That was an hour and a half. In the evening we had our 5th foster-parent-training class, and this week's topic was foster parenting children who have been sexually abused or who have witnessed domestic violence- two hefty, difficult subjects. That was three hours. I definitely learned a lot of valuable info, but both of those in the same day was tough- almost five hours of tough stuff. I think we both feel slightly more equipped to handle those things, though.
`Not sure I can handle this weekend, though! Today, work all day, work at second job after, take J out for a blessed two hours of peace. Saturday, design our wedding invitations once and for all and print the printed part, then clean the house like mad for several hours. Sunday, we participate in the Muscular Dystrophy Association's Stride-N-Ride all morning, and then go actually make our invitations afterward. Busy-busy-busy. And the reason we'll be cleaning the house like mad tomorrow? We scheduled the first visit of our homestudy for Monday! Why doesn't anybody stop me when I do things like that? See y'all on the other side... of this crazy weekend, that is.

Thanks to Addition Problems for clueing me in about today! This is a thinking-day for me, about life as a lesbian social worker getting married to her partner in just three months (eek!) and trying to become a foster parent. J and I are so excited about our upcoming wedding- it's taken on a life of its own over the last year of planning, and as things start to come together now, and there is less to do, the reality of the cementing of our life into a family is starting to sink in. I'm going to be her wife. And it's exciting and joyous and wonderful and freaks me the hell out!

Occasionally the ugly world sticks its nose where it doesn't belong, though, and I'm reminded that even though we'll be an amazingly strong and loving family and even though we have support from people who care about us, our little family will be an island in many ways. We'll be left out of society's image and protection and have to fight against invisibility and attacks. I experienced a little of both today at work. Though I don't actively talk about myself with co-workers, I don't lie when something about my family comes up. While training a new social worker today, it came up- she was considering Smith College for grad school and my partner had just graduated from that program last year, and had even followed a similar path to it as this new worker- through the Air Force, then to community college, then undergrad through the Francis Perkins program for non-traditional-age students, and finally grad school at Smith. We talked about it for a few minutes and though J's status as my partner was clear, this new worker called her my "roommate" and continued to call her such for the rest of the day. Invisibility can be annoying and in a larger sense, deadly. My family, small and insignificant as it is, should be recognized with respect for what it is- a family.

Later, after getting out of a meeting with DSS regarding the custody of her child, a client got into my car for a ride home and spewed derogatory words about the child's foster mother because she is a lesbian. Followed by the "I have no problem with it, but..." that I so often hear before or after someone says something offensive. As a person with feelings and a life, I hated hearing those words, and it particularly bothered me because J and I will be foster parents in just a few months. Put in a weak or painful position, many parents with children in foster care put down their child's foster parents in order to feel better about themselves- ignoring the facts of neglect, abuse, or substance abuse in their own lives that make them unable to parent. LGBT parents can and do make great parents, regardless of their sexual orientation, but they become an easy target for insults, especially when somebody needs a scapegoat. As a social worker, I usually don't correct or confront my client's about moments like this- I'm there to help people with homelessness, substance abuse, mental crisis, financial ruin, domestic violence and conflict, and struggles in parenting, among many other problems, and I think they have enough on their plates without having to confront their prejudices immediately. Still, it stinks to help people who have such unkind words for others, based on all kinds of stupid criteria, and hold my tongue. I just hope that someday, with my help and the help of many other providers, each one may be able to get to a stable enough place where they don't have to put others down to puff themselves up.

That being said about my clients, nobody else has an excuse for not supporting equality. The world is made up of people who are so diverse in so many ways. To deny the need for equality is to deny the reality of the world. All families deserve to be seen for what they are- families. All families deserve to be able to protect each other and their relationships- through equal protection of the law and economic justice. I should be able to marry J and have that marriage respected everywhere we go. We should be recognized as equal and (I hope) really good parents when the time comes. As we will declare in just a few months at our wedding- we are family!

A story about "Another Place at the Table"

Another Place at the Table

by Kathy Harrison

Last week, as my partner and I were leaving our second class of the series required for potential foster parents, we spoke with the foster parent who is co-leading our training. He mentioned that his wife had written a book (now two, actually) about their experience as foster parents, called “Another Place at the Table”. Voila! I pulled my copy of the book out of my bag, much to his surprise. I was already pretty excited that the author of this book was a foster parent for the same DSS office that we will be with, and now I was very happy to be looking prepared, though it was just sheer coincidence that had ordered the book a couple of weeks before.
This one hardly needs another spectacular review, I want to extoll its quality anyway. Having just finished one book on foster care, I picked this one up to start yesterday and couldn’t put it down. The stories of the children who grace these pages and the very real and unsentimental voice of the author had me riveted and tearful and joyful- I finished the whole thing in one sitting. The stories are frequently heartbreaking and the author’s experience clearly wrenching, but while it did much to scare me about becoming a foster parent, the underlying sense of hope and purpose came back to me every time, as it does for Kathy Harrison. I just hope that I can approach the task with similar good sense and resiliency, and am quite grateful to have Bruce Harrison at our classes to share his experience with us. So, of course, for me as a prospective foster parent, this book is amazing and I very much intend to read Kathy’s new book. This book is for everybody, though- it’s an amazing read. So read it- it’s worth consuming!

See more about Another Place at the Table

You know you are graduating from UMass Amherst when:

1) No preparation whatsoever is required- you may get your cap and gown on your way into graduation (in case you have been drunk for the last two weeks and forgot to get them.)

2) When the marshalls say "lines of three" you all walk into the processional in a giant mob.

3) The processional takes so long to get all 4,000 graduates into their seats that we all begin sitting down half-way through.

4) Graduates then proceed to stand on their chairs to look for people, talk to their relatives on their cell phones, take their gowns off because it is extremely hot, and leave their seats to go talk to people on the sidelines.

5) When the speaking finally commences, we then break out the beachballs that have been stashed under gowns, inflate them, and toss them around for fun- this continues throughout the entire two-hour ceremony- probably 2 or 3 dozen beachballs total.

6) Whenever a "marshall" manages to snatch one of the beachballs away (their primary job), the grads boo the marshall loud enough to drown out the speaker on stage.

7) Your particular section at one point sets off one beachball, then two (a typical number seen in all the sections), then three (at which point people begin to cheer), then four (and things start to get rowdy), and on until you've got 6 beachballs all going at once among the same small group, to the loud pleasure of the rest.

8) When the beachballs run out towards the end, the programs are sacrificed to mutitudes of paper airplanes.

9) The girl behind you continually screams like a rabid sports fan at inappropriate moments- for example, "Yeah- go trustees!" and "Sing it, UMass!"

10) When the Chancellor asks all alumni present to now stand, the graduates collectively fail to realize that they are now alumni for several seconds, then realize this collectively, and jump up screaming all at once. Don't ask how we got into college in the first place.

11) And last, but not least, the crowning moment that truly lets you know that you are graduating from the best university on the planet... somebody has snuck in, inflated, and begun to toss overhead- not just a beachball- but an inflatable naked lady.

I love UMass.

The Homosexual Agenda in action!

Last week we attended the first session of our 8-week foster parenting class that will, in conjunction with our (successful) homestudy, make us licensed foster parents in Massachusetts. We were bemused by the fact that we were two of only four potential foster parents in the class and especially by the fact that we were both same-sex couples. I was relieved at not having to deal with heterosexist weirdness, but also wary because the facilitators said there might be one more couple joining us at the next session. I kept remembering the "Boobie School Drop-out" post over at Name That Mama, and dreading some homophobic straight couple potentially ruining our experience. I hate conflict. So we went to the second session tonight, and there were not one, but two new couples joining the class. Lo and behold, we are becoming foster parents with yet another same-sex couple! That makes 3 out of 4 couples. I had to try really hard not to laugh when I walked in. Even our facilitator commented on us- apparently many foster parents are same-sex couples, but she'd never had a class with quite that ratio before. And the poor, lone straight couple- little did they know what they were getting themselves into. Not just any straight couple, either- the Dad is a high school sports coach, and the Mom has had three bio kids already and described herself as emotional. To top it off, we had a role play session and the poor woman wound up married to another woman- the lesbian recruitment plan is just top knotch these days, I tell you! I can only imagine what their conversation was like on the way home! I kinda feel sorry for them- I'm sure this was not what they were expecting. Still, this quells my fears and I'm really glad to start this process with some friendly faces. I think I'm going to like this class. And I hope we get to stay in touch with the families we are taking the class with- it would be great to go through this process together and commisserate as newbies. Yay for foster parents, and especially queer foster parents, everywhere!

Nobody puts Baby in a crappy dress!

We went to pick up J's dress from David's Bridal this evening- a "pickup style" bridesmaid's dress that we paid $220 for- what a big disappointment! Not only didn't it look even remotely like the picture in the catalogue (on the left), it was worse than the floor model that she tried on in the first place (which looked great on her despite the wear and tear of lots of trying-on). Flimsy material, haphazard work on the "pickups", saggy all over and especially in the front (not related to the size), a pull in the fabric right in the middle of the bodice- overall just a shoddy job. I was so mad! Still am. We had them re-order the dress and send this one back as a "failure" so that the new one will get here faster. And it had better look like riches when it gets here! Nobody puts my baby in a crappy wedding dress! Not a pleasant week in the land of tulle and glitter.

Runaway officiant

The brides are here and ready to go, but where is their officiant? Gone! The minister we had set up our wedding plans with has bailed on us because a couple in her own congregation asked her to officiate their wedding on the same day, and I guess the rules say she has to do theirs even though we asked her first. Thank goodness we still have 3 1/2 months until the wedding! Still, the choices are fairly limited. Our congregation doesn't have a minister right now because the last one resigned and he's not allowed to officiate ceremonies at our church anymore (more annoying church rules). J wanted the chaplain at her alma mater to officiate, but since she's so awesome she's very popular and had prior obligations already set up for that weekend when we asked. She made suggestions of who else might do it, and so we called this one and met with her and decided she would be a great officiant, and then she bailed. Now, while my oldest sister B was here visiting and graduating with her PhD a couple of weeks ago, I asked her to be the sole reader and co-officiant of the ceremony, but I don't think going it alone is what she had in mind when she accepted. Job for today: find a replacement officiant! Quick!

Check, check, check out please!

-Lots of mirrors facing up... check.
-Mirrors on the doors facing out...check.
-Wind chimes...check.
-Shiny baubles...check.
-Giant wall mirror and Buddha thing with a candle in our "Helpful People" corner...check.

As it turns out, the landlady does not think she can ask them to move unless they don't pay the rent, and mediation wasn't productive in the least, so we're feng shuiing up a storm in here with all the ideas I could find about quelling lousy neighbors. It was just starting to feel like home in here (we've only been in this apartment since January) and we've put a lot of work into the place, so we really don't want to leave. But we can't live with Madame Psycho and Mr. Meek Husband anymore. I do feel really bad for the kid, though- she's only 8 and has to deal with them all the time. We put up a picture of Damara, a goddess of children and family harmony, and play soft music in our kid-room that sits under their daughter's bedroom. I wish there were a good solution for everyone!

Mr. "ARRGH" will be our guest for a while...

We decided to suck it up and call the landlord and lady, tell them the latest proof that the upstairs people really need to be sent inpatient, and that we need a mediation. So mediation is tomorrow night with the landlady at a local restaurant- she wanted to do it at a park or something in case it got ugly, but it's going to rain so we're bringing popcorn and Reese's for the indoor scene that just might happen. Hopefully it won't happen that way, we will come to some sort of agreement about keeping the music and other noise down and not touching our property without permission and not smoking in the hall (too bad we can't stick in a clause about her taking her meds), and then everybody (meaning they) have to stick to it for 30 days. Then, if anyone can't stick to it, we have to try to decide who will move out. Then, if we can't decide, the landlords decide who moves. And they like us and we're good tenants and the upstairs folks paid the rent late last month (and I feel bad they're having a hard time with the rent, but still) so I think we'd get to stay. All of this will probably entail lots of loudness and annoyingness and psycho behaviors and maybe some threats spelled out in magazine clippings, but I really hope I'm wrong. Yay for wrong! And wish us luck at mediation.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGH!

I am so hopping mad! My effing neighbor is trying to play some stupid, passive-aggressive, junior-high-school game with us and I am pissed. After several months of listening to her weekly screaming fights with her husband, our neighbor hit an especially alarming note and ruined one too many of my nights, so we called the landlords and the cops. After ruining one too many of my days with her obscenely loud, booming music, I asked her to turn it down a couple of days ago. Since those two incidents she has:

1) Stuck a melodramatic note on our door "to the ## ___ St. residents" (as if she doesn't know our names), to not leave the front door open lest we break her daughter's heart by letting their cat out (well, they have an apartment door that should do the job just fine, and the door would be shut if she weren't stinking up the hallway with her cigarrettes, but fine- we leave it shut now- with a super-duper air freshener.)
2) Started playing the music extra loud
3) After I asked her to turn it down, went about her apartment and up&downstairs stomping as loudly as possible and singing at the top of her lungs (I suppose the reasoning was supposed to be, "if I can't play my music, I'll just have to sing my heart out, so I'll still be obnoxious but she can't exactly ask me to turn it down.")
4) Turned her car on and blared the music at top volume out of it (including subwoofer, parked in front of our door & windows), with her dog tied to the car and barking his head off (poor dog never barks, but the music was just that loud), and stood on her porch screaming at the dog to "shut the f**k up! I can't believe you're being so loud!." Love the pointed tone, don't you?
5) We just discovered she moved all of our stuff stored in the basement over to one side and smooshed her things up next to it, as if to draw a line down the middle (you know, like young children and junior high schoolers might do when they don't like sharing a bedroom). This last one has me so steamed! Big, bad boundary issue here- if you want me to move my stuff, then ask me to move my stuff- but do not touch my property without permission!

All done in such a way that calling up the landlords would make me feel like a child myself- it either can't be proven or seems like we ought to work it out amongst ourselves. But, I fear that if we continue to try to do that, we'll just incite more crap. I've already asked the landlords to fix a few things lately (light not working, broken windows, woodpecker nesting in house) and really don't want to make a nuisance of myself, especially in something that seems like running to mommy&daddy. I don't know what to do here. We have both tried to be as nice as possible and as reasonable as possible (we've both lived in several apartment buildings before this and never had to ask someone to turn music down or call the police about a fight- we both feel this particular neighbor is pretty extreme, and we know their previous neighbors also called the police about a fight). I guess I'm trying to say we've been really flexible about this, but I really feel attacked and there does not seem to be a way to reason with this woman. She's just nuts. Whatever it is, we need a solution now, because this has to stop. Any ideas?

Hey, Derangels!

Last night I dreamed that you were pregnant. We were having an argument because you didn't want me to tell Mom, but we were about to go out somewhere with her, and I was saying "S--, you're showing" (you were like 6 or 7 months along or smth) "you can't not tell her!" Is this not a perfect anecdote for our family relationships? Tee hee. Btw, is there something you're not telling me? Hmn? Love, your little sister

Flying colors

Good marks all around from the social worker who did our walk-through today- we have enough time, enough money, enough room, and our CORI checks confirm that we're not criminals. We are officially eligible! And now we have the crux of the homestudy coming up- three long visits from another social worker whose job it is to "get to know" us and write up a big report afterward. In the meantime, we take a three hour class once a week for eight weeks (not ten like I thought before) called the Massachusetts Alliance for Partnership in Parenting class. The first session is next week. It ends in July, we will probably have had our last visit from the social worker in charge of the homestudy by then, after which s/he will write it up, pass it by the manager we saw today, who will then pass it by the area director, and we're looking at getting licensed sometime in September. The one fly in my ointment is still our upstairs neighbors- actually really just one of them. The wife is crazy. She continues to have screaming fights with her husband on a regular basis- we had to call the police the last time because the screams were so unbelievably loud. She continues to play her music at top volume on a daily basis- completely unacceptable to me if I have a kid in the house- just a few minutes ago I asked her to turn it down, garnering a pissy response about how we've asked her to turn it down "like three different times" (actually only two, and maybe it's because you can't seem to understand that other people live in this house!), so the volume stayed down for about five minutes but she's apparently quite pissed at me now, because it's back up with it's booming bass already and she's stomping around like she has cinderblocks for shoes. Please, please God- move them somewhere else! She's really raining on my parade here, so I think I'm going to take off and go buy baby stuff or something. All the while maintaining my calm, cool, and collected state of being. Just call me wannabe-foster-mom-extraordinare! BTW, that's a picture of the very cute frog-prince toy we bought at Ikea a few weeks ago.

A little big thing

Those of you who saw this blog near its beginning might remember when the subtitle used to say "foster parenting" instead of just "parenting" on the horizon. That was because way back when, we called in our official interest in becoming foster parents to the Department of Social Services. So, a while went by, and we immersed ourselves in wedding plans, while also looking at options for possible pregnancy after the wedding, including meeting a PKD and poring over lists of ID-release donors from sperm banks- in short, life was just happening. And then, a few days ago we got a call from a DSS worker, asking to set up a visit to start our homestudy. So, we start on Monday afternoon. The worker will come back several times and continue compiling our homestudy, while we take classes for three hours every Thursday evening for 10 weeks, then the worker will write up her assessment and reccommendation for approval, the head of DSS will read it and sign it, and we'll get a license in the mail. If all goes well with our study. I've scrutinized the list of home requirements over and over and over, trying to reassure myself that our family and our home meet them, and so far we've got everything, so I reeeeally hope there's nothing missing. Actually, I know the one thing that is missing- we need to have a bed for the kid(s), and we've been trying to find an affordable crib that will convert to a toddler bed (to accomodate an age range of 0-3 years)- so far, no luck. It's ok for now, as we have several weeks after the home study begins to fix anything we're missing. But we need a convertible crib! And more curtains (currently only one room has them). And rugs (although we have a fabulously cute kid-rug from Ikea in the baby room- that's a picture of it up there- we're trying for a castles&dragons&princes&princesses&stars motif). Must sweep and mop and dust and vacuum and clean the bathroom and throw out all the junk mail on the dining table and brush the cats.

More babylove!

They're just springing up like flowers these days! Congrats to Kwynne, Pam, and their new little wee one, Leandré! Ok, back to bracing my ovaries for the insanely cute baby pics that are sure to come.

Wedding readings: For fun

Some possibilities from the lovey-dovey side of things:

"My true love hath my heart and I have hers,
By just exchange one for another given;
I hold hers dear and mine she cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driven:
My true love hath my heart and I have hers.

My heart in me keeps her and me in one;
My heart in her, her heart and senses guides;
She loves my heart for once it was her own;
I cherish hers because in me it bides:
My true love hath my heart and I have hers." Sir Philip Sidney


You'll notice, my sister beat me to this one in her comment a few days ago:
"Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields
And all the craggy mountains yeilds.

There we will sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
With a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love." Christopher Marlowe


This one is so darn cute. Maybe toward the end of the ceremony, for a little levity?
"Though you know it anyhow
Listen to me darling now,

Proving what I need not prove
How I know I love you, love.

Near and far, near and far,
I am happy where you are.

Likewise, I have never learnt
How to be it where you aren't.

Far and wide, far and wide,
I can walk with you beside;

Furthermore, I tell you what,
I sit and sulk where you are not.

Visitors remark my frown
When you're upstairs and I am down,

Yes, and I'm afraid I pout
When I'm indoors and you are out;

But how contentedly I view
Any room containing you.

In fact I care not where you be
Just as long as it's with me.

In all your absences I glimpse
Fire and flood and trolls and imps.

Is your train a minute slothful?
I goad the stationmaster wrothful.

When with friends to bridge you drive
I never know if you're alive,

And when you linger late in shops
I long to telephone the cops.

Yet how worth the waiting for,
To see you coming through the door.

Somehow, I can be complacent
Never but with you adjacent.

Near and far, near and far,
I am happy where you are;

Likewise, I have never learnt
How to be it where you aren't.

Then grudge me not my fond endeavor,
To hold you in my sight forever;

Let none, not even you, disparage
Such a valid reason for a marriage." Ogden Nash from "Tin Wedding Whistle"

Wedding readings, from the religious side

More possibilities! These are biblical verses we may use, mostly because we like them, and partly for my parents' sake:

"Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God, and he who loves is born of God and knows God. He who does not love does not know God; for God is love... Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No man has ever seen God; If we love one another, Gob abides in us and his love is perfected in us." I John 4:7-12

I especially like this one:
"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, and patience, forbearing one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these, put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let peace rule in your hearts... And be thankful. Let love dwell in you richly, as you teach and admonish one another in all wisdom..." Colossians 3:12-17

Though it is used very frequently, I love these verses (especially as put by Joni Mitchell):
"Although I speak in toungues of men and angels
I'm just sounding brass
And tinkling cymbals without love

Love suffers long
Love is kind!
Enduring all things
Hoping all things
Love has no evil in mind.

If I had the gift of prophesy
And all knowledge
And the faith to move the mountains
Even if I understood all the mysteries
And I didn't have love
I'd be nothing.

Love- never looks for love
Love's not puffed up
Or envious
Or touchy
Because it rejoices in the truth
Not in iniquity.
Love sees like a child sees.

As a child I spoke as a child
I thought and understood as a child
But when I became a woman
I put away childish things
And began to see through a glass darkly.

Where, as a child, I saw it face to face
Now, I only know it in part.
Fractions in me
Of faith and hope and love
And of these great three
Love's the greatest beauty.
Love
Love
Love" I Corinthians 13 as made into a song by Joni Mitchell

Wedding readings, Part 1

These are some of the possibilities for the invitations, the ceremony, or for the decorations.

"My life has been the awaiting you,
Your footfall was my own heart's beat." Paul Valery

"Let not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this is error, and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd." Shakespeare

"I know not whether thou has been absent:
I lie down with thee, I rise up with thee,
In my dreams thou art with me.
If my eardrops tremble in my ears,
I know it is thou moving within my heart." Aztec love song

"Let the earth of my body be mixed with the earth
my beloved walks on.
Let the fire of my body be the brightness
in the mirror that reflects her face.
Let the water of my body join the waters
of the lotus pool she bathes in.
Let the breath of my body be airlapping her tired limbs.
Let me be sky, and moving through me
... my beloved." Hindu love poem

Welcome, Natalie!

And congratulations, moms! It's been so wonderful to watch Jen and Cait's journey so far, and now we are so privileged to witness that of their daughter, Natalie Claire, too! Yay!

Oh yeah, the ceremony...

It's amazing how much wedding planning is all about the reception. J and I have most of that set down now, and just put the deposit in at the Northampton Brewery, so fortunately it gets to take more of a backseat now. Having also just met with our officiant last week, we're finally thinking about the ceremony- you know, the truly important part of the day. It is a little intimidating to think about. How do we design an event for our friends and family that declares our love and committment to each other, while reaching out to them as our community and letting them know how much we love and appreciate them? It's hard to go it alone, and I don't think any couple or family can survive well without their loved ones there to support them throughout their lives. So far, we have been amazed and brought to tears by the love and support of our closest kindred spirits, and I'm sure I'm going to cry all over the place when we celebrate this wonderful day with them. I only wish we could invite more of our loved ones- the restaurant only seats 70 for large functions, and it's been hugely difficult to separate our guest list into A and B (and even C) sections! It's been great impetus to spend more time with our friends, though- we finally know all of their full names and significant others and addresses and phone numbers, and our lives have been so enriched by the dinners and parties and visits and overnights that we've been spending with all these VIPs. Sniff!

Happy Birthday to me!

Today is my 24th birthday. Actually, I'll be exactly so in 10 minutes at 11:24pm. Woo! Thanks, Mom!

Martha is just so smart!

Hereby I admit my love for anything by Martha Stewart. From her Weddings magazine, I have learned how to make really pretty flowers out of tissue paper, in all shapes and sizes. Results? More wedding savings! The expensive real flowers will be limited to our bouquets, the rest in pretty paper!

Diaries of a social worker

A client of mine, who I like, relapsed on her alcoholism over the weekend, just before her post-probation requirements were to be fulfilled, and may go back to jail until her hearing in two weeks that would have ended her probation. My co-worker's client who was doing well and was about to get a stable income for the first time in his life recently relapsed on pain killers, got in trouble with the police for trespassing where he is persona non grata, went to the ER with a mental crisis, probably lost his great new housing arrangement, and flunked a test for a new job and is using that as a reason to go off the deep end. My newest client lives in total squalor, a house so dirty and smelly and full of trash and bugs that the home health aides won't go in to help her, has such rock-bottom self-esteem that she may never be able to take care of herself, even though she's smart and capable in all other ways. My longest standing client can't seem to get free of the addictions to almost a dozen different substances that have plagued her since she was a teenager, yet she's not even 30 and is bright and has so much potential, so that when she tells me a few days ago that she relapsed again (for what has now been several times in a month after almost six months of sobriety) and then I tell her we start over, just like before and not to give up on herself, and then she smiles- it's heartbreaking and frustrating beyond belief.

So often people don't understand what I do or why- all the time, I hear about why the people I serve don't deserve to be served, about what a waste of time and money and human life they are, about how lazy and immoral they must be to live the ways they do, about how I must be such a saint because they can't bring themselves to feel sorry for these people like I obviously do. Here is one thing that I have to say about that- this work is not about feeling sorry for them. Aside from the general sorriness I feel that any person should be in such a sad state of affairs, I don't. Yes, most of the time they are capable people who aren't acting responsibly, usually for reasons unspeakably hard- I have only a single client who is not a survivor of child abuse- lo and behold she is one of the few who has never battled an addiction. I don't have a panacea for trauma, but I suspect it has to do with a personal journey toward a self-love which one has never felt- this is a journey we all have to travel, easier for some than others, so no- I wouldn't say I feel sorry. I don't think that is what this work is about.

For me, it is about forgiving someone for their faults and mistakes (because everyone deserves to be forgiven a million times because God forgives endlessly) and then helping them. It's that simple. I believe without forgiveness, we are all of us lost. Being the true-blue religious liberal that I am, I think of forgiveness as the most godly thing we can do- and since God's forgiveness is never worn out (ever, ever) that we owe that kind of love to our neighbors- that's one of the many places I think we Unitarians have it way over the hypocritical "religious" right. How mad it makes me to hear someone disparage strangers for their shortcomings, when that person is too afraid of the human condition to even stand on the same sidewalk as that stranger. I hear them talk about how saintly those of us are who work with the people who scare them- the poor, the mentally ill, the developmentally disabled, the severely depressed and oppressed- but I don't think it is saintly, I think it is just a duty to others to confront one's fears and prejudices in order to serve them no matter what, and that not doing so is the fault. Rather than most of our nation's people turning their backs on those who scare them being the normal ones, and the social workers the unusually saintly, I think it is those who actually try to connect with their neighbors who are normal and those who don't the not-so-moral-after-all. This all inspired today by yet another person disparaging the poor- this time because of their higher rates of Type-II Diabetes. WTF? *Now stepping down from high-horse*

Meeting Mr. Sperm

J and I went to New Jersey this weekend and met our PKD, his partner, and their son who is 20 months old. They were, of course, very nice people and we enjoyed spending the day with them. PKD and his partner have an interesting relationship, at least in speech, because they were both born and raised in other countries, and so English is their middle ground of communication and their conversation is full of clarifications for each other and "what is this?" when they are looking for words in English. We feel reasonably sure that we could handle a lifelong, albeit infrequent friendship with these guys. And the little boy is proof that PKD's swimmers can and do result in cute kids. Altogether a reassuring trip. My favorite moment: PKD goes to dress their son (which is apparently unusual, as his partner is the one with the fashion-sense), PKD's partner grows more and more nervous and fidgety over the space of several seconds and then goes running up the stairs saying to us "Sorry, I'll be right back- I have to make sure he doesn't wind up in United Colors of Benneton."

Pigs are flying, the curvaceous lady is singing her tune, the cows are back home cracking open their beer...

For the second time this week, I have just had a completely pleasant conversation with my mother including much talk about the wedding. Holy crapola. I think she must be making a special, cognizant effort to be nice to me, especially about the wedding stuff. She's asking questions about it. She's joking with me about it. She's offering to learn how to emboss paper so she can help make our invitations. She's saying she'd like to give us some money for it, but can't make promises because she and my Dad don't have much left over these days. I tell her anything they'd like to offer would be much appreciated and if they can't contribute cash that's completely ok and then we talk about bridesmaids dresses. She asked what we're going to do with our last names and I even brought up having kids without incident.

I really love this stuff (and I'm hoping it won't come crashing down in some big fight). She and I have had such a bumpy road of it since I came out to her, several years of really bad periods followed by periods of two-steps-forward-one-step-back stuff, so I'm trying to appreciate this without setting my heart on it. I love my mother. I feel sorry that she has had to go through so much turmoil and inner change because she happened to be one of the many parents of gay children. I admire the strength of this remarkable woman and so deeply appreciate the efforts she makes for me- I know I haven't been the easiest daughter in the world. She turns 60 next month and I know I want to spend as much time as possible soaking up her love and reflecting it right back to her while we're still together; when I was 9 years old, I realized one night while trying to fall asleep, for the first time, that my mother wouldn't live forever and I cried into the wee hours of the morning until finally going to sleep. That's a feeling that has stayed with me since that night and so often I have to push my thoughts about that finiteness away in order not to cry some more. I love my mother so much more than I could ever express. Now, as I think about becoming a mom myself (and I think about that all the time), I can't imagine another person loving me like I love my mother, but at the same time I really hope they do.

"Union, Union are we. Just as Union as Union can be!"

"We're gonna get somethin' for our labor,
For Union, Union are we." Woody Guthrie

Yay for our union local! During our contract negotiation meeting last night, management quietly and nonchalantly withdrew their proposal to eliminate health insurance benefits for domestic partners of employees. Woo hoo! That doesn't take away the initial disrespect or the sense that management really doesn't give a crap about the workers, but it's not on the table anymore so we're happy!

Dear sister S, I promise not to make you wear this.

Decisions, decisions.

You know, the farther we get in trying to decide how to try for a baby the more complicated it gets and the more conflicted we feel. I keep wondering when we are going to hit that peak and then get to relax a little bit about it. I think what drives me nuts is just the not having a plan, yet. We have all these options and decisions to make, but so far we have no definite plan, and so I obsess about the decisions. I want to know. And the more options we consider, the more I become convinced that there really isn't anything better about one way than another way most of the time, which makes it all the more difficult to make a decision.
For example, known donors vs. unknown donors. While I think a known donor can be a great gift to be able to offer our child, it can also be a detriment to our child by exposing him or her to potential custody battles, which will probably not happen but if they do, have proven to be very harmful to children. Which is better? Neither. Both are indications of caring parents, and which way just depends on the parents. So what kind of parents are we? Well, we're not parents, but what kind of parents-to-be are we? Well, we're not the totally anonymous donor kind, but we are still debating if we are the yes-donor (where he's anonymous at first but can be contacted when child is 18) or the known donor kind. I think we're the known donor kind, but that brings up lots of other decisions. Do we go live or frozen? Live has advantages- namely the much greater likelihood and speed with which we could get pregnant and the greatly reduced cost- almost free. Then again, frozen has advantages- we don't actually know this guy, so it would be to our benefit to have the 6-month quarantine of his sperm and retesting to make sure it doesn't carry any STIs; also very importantly we could order up the swimmers anytime we want and have them shipped up here, rather than have to drive 5 hours each way for the live ones. Then again, the bank would charge us somewhere between $4,900 and $5,700 for everything, plus additional years of storage, plus shipping fees, so... there goes the kid's college fund. And the wedding. Arrgh! Since going through the bank in our case also makes no difference legally, and since we do pretty much trust that he's in a stable and fidelitous relationship with his partner, all that expense is seeming more and more useless. At this point I think we're leaning toward the live route, especially because I learned this interesting fact from "The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians" saying that some midwives can now "spin" the little buggers in a portable centrifuge and do an IUI for you at home (or wherever you are), so we could hopefully get this going right quickly! Whenever we do decide to start. Hold yer horses, Bertha! Not yet!