Ask me

Sometimes, I wish people would ask me more questions.

Like, personal questions.

Like, invasively, intrusively, blatantly personal questions.

So... trying a version of an old game here.

Here are the ground rules, understanding that I reserve the right to change the ground rules at any point.

Ask me a question (or a bunch, whatever).

If I choose to answer, I'll answer honestly, in one of two ways:

• If I feel like I can answer publicly, I will, either in the comments here or in a post.
• If I feel like I can't, but can answer privately, and I can identify the asker, I'll answer privately via e-mail or Facebook inbox.

You may ask anonymously, but that slightly reduces your chances of getting an answer, obviously.

I reserve the right to choose not to answer questions at all, but I will be as brave as I possibly can about answering as many as I can.

Maybe, depending how it goes, we'll revive the Anonymous Comment Experiment. Aren't you all waiting to be asked invasively, intrusively, blatantly personal questions?

This route has tolls

I was sick earlier this week, and home for two days. On top of that, there was an interruption in my internet service on the second day. It came back, but meanwhile, I didn't feel up to even getting up off the couch, so I read. A whole book. In one sitting. Which is a thing I used to do all the time (I read Gone with the Wind, which was 1,024 pages long, when I was sick for four days in middle school), but not so much anymore.

Two things about that:

• The book was Nevada, by Imogen Binnie, and both Nevada and Imogen Binnie are pretty terrific. If you're looking for your next book, I recommend it. The honesty of all the characters — not just the main one — is sort of breathtaking. (One of my favorite poets blogged about it, too.)
• In it, the main character, Maria, talks very briefly a couple of times about feeling self-pity in lieu of other emotions. It is a very minor piece of the overall book, but I'd been sick on the couch for two days, and it resonated. I totally do that, though I am not sure I'd have identified it that way. Like, I start feeling something powerful, and very quickly it spirals into a big wah wah wah I'm worthless fest, which cannot be remedied by actual awareness that I am in no way worthless, or even by being told by others how terrific (or unworthless) I am (which, in general, I like a whole lot). I think maybe it only gets remedied by:
  • falling asleep, or
  • actually feeling whatever else I'm trying to avoid.

So, that's where my head is. Just me? What's your Thursday look like?

Sentence of the day, citrusy obituary edition

"They were accessible to most, but really wearable only by the few who were so rich that they could afford to have bad taste. A minidress of green peacocks dancing with merry seashells is not for just anyone."

Sentence of the day, unlisted bucket edition

"Ad libbing mock bible verse prior to getting tackled by a nun in a nightclub: check. It's the crap you DON'T realize that's on your bucket list that makes it worth it."

-My friend XN from high school (find him also here and here and here and here, because he likes it like that.)

I see your FB comments, even when you are not my friend

Is that title too creepy? Probably. Oh, well. The sooner the newcomers learn that I'm creepy, the better prepared we'll all be, right?

Someone somewhere asked what I meant by "if we live in a culture that privileges certain relationships (and we do), people need equal access to those privileges."

I think that's a fair question, so I'm going to answer it right up here, in public, and hope that the person (who is a stranger to me) sees it.

I do not mean this as anti-marriage. I for sure do not mean it as anti-marriage-equality. I hope it reads that way; if it does not, I hope people will feel comfortable expressing their concerns.

People who fight for marriage equality talk a lot about the hundreds (1,100 is the number I see a lot) of protections and benefits marriage affords couples under the law. Couples of all orientations deserve to share in those benefits and protections. I agree that if anyone gets those benefits and protections, everyone should have them.

People who are opposed to marriage equality occasionally talk about whether this means we're going to suddenly let people marry two, or four, or 100 people. Even people who have no problem with people sharing that much love in theory will often agree that it gets complicated in the legal execution. If Alice is married to Brian and Callie, and Callie is married to Alice and Dennis, what is the legal relationship between Brian and Callie? Brian and Dennis? What if there are kids involved? Do we need to determine parentage, and if so, is it limited to two people? What if the kid has always grown up with three parents who are in an equal and loving relationship? What if a bunch of kids have been raised in some kind of commune-type situation where specific parentage is not acknowledged; all the kids belong to all the grownups? How relevant is who's sleeping with whom, or who's in love with whom? Legally, the taxes and permission slips and stuff are just way too hard to figure out, so many (including, once, me) will say, quickly, that of course marriage equality for same-sex couples does not and should not open doors to polygamy.*

So, as an intellectual exercise, what if we take away those 1,100 protections completely? What if we stop privileging marriage? What if couples (or triads, or bigger) have to negotiate their relationships (and their finances, and their children) without benefit (?) of a bunch of built-in contracts? What if all the assumptions that we have about what marriage "must be" or what marriage is "for" evaporate?

I do not know if a marriage-type relationship is or ever will be for me, though I am open to it as a possibility. I'm 41 and never been in one, though I have certainly loved very deeply, in a few different forms of relationship. I know people of many ages and orientations and arrangements in many seemingly happy seemingly lifelong partnerships, some of which come with a bunch of protections and some of which do not.

And I get that exploring this stuff intellectually is easier for me than for people actually in marriages who, as the world currently works, need those benefits in order to make ends meet, or to gain recognition for the equivalence of their relationships, or for access to their loved ones in the hospital, or for access to shared property...

But what if they didn't? Need those benefits for those reasons, I mean?

To sum up: All I meant back there was that giving everyone some more people access to the advantages that come with federally-recognized marriage is not the only path to equality.





*Plus, many of us think of systemic polygyny — one man, many wives — as icky and sexist and creating abusive situations for women and children**. This may be true, but then, shouldn't we be dealing with the sexism and abuse?

**Plus, some people would suggest two-person heterosexual marriage does the same thing.

How not to make the sale

I was at queer bowling tonight, you know, like I do on Monday nights. The spring Rainbow League wraps up next week, and summer Rainbow League will start in early May, so that's fun.

And Pete the bartender*, who I've known for literally well over a year, who knows many of my friends and has served me drinks and gives me a hard time when I just drink water and used to work with my friend who I used to visit at work all the time, came up to our team and said, "If you think you're going to do summer league, could you sign up through me? The  employees are having a contest."

And I thought I'd joke around with him a little, so I said, "What do you have to offer us that [other employee] and [other other employee] don't?"

And he said, "Actually, [other employee] said you were a bitch. And I stood up for you. I said, 'no, she isn't.'"

And I laughed, because it's funny, and then I said, "Hey, Pete, what's my name?"

"I know your name," he said.

"Mhm. What is it?"

And there was silence, and then I realized he was actually reading our team list, which was on the table in front of me — and still did not know my name.

No foolin'.

Also, I think I will sign up for summer league with any other employee of this bowling alley.

*I usually don't use names here. I think we can all agree that he deserves it.