Two weddings yesterday, both started out same sex. That is, the elopement I had for mid afternoon had been referred to me as a same sex wedding, the gentleman I'd spoken to had referred to his partner and agreed that husband sounded better than spouse, the name of his intended was foreign to me and I couldn't tell if it was masculine or feminine...given that the office had told me same sex, I went with that. The groom who picked me up at the subway was pretty darn metrosexual in appearance...but, I will forever remind myself, most grooms do. He had to run an errand before returning to his house and getting married in the the presence of his family, and as he drove he happily chatted about his intended partner, their future children and it was not till he used the term "wife" that a little bell went off in my head. I mean, same sex couples make great parents, it's not that unusual for parents of same sex couples to be properly supportive...I know a lesbian who refers to her wife as a "husband" sort of jokingly...bugs me, but who am I to judge. As he shopped for champagne and I waited in the car I did some "hmmm" sort of math and decided the best way was the direct approach. Ask, get it over with out of view of the family so I can clarify the ceremony and no one need ever know the offices or my mistake. So, when he came back, I asked him if he was marrying a girl. I guess a sort of "hmmm" math went on for him too as he'd been wondering about the "husband vs spouse" question and my hesitation to his use of "wife"...and yes, girl. Did it stay in the car? Of course not, first thing out of his mouth once at the house was "she thought you were a man" to this gorgeous wee woman who said in the cutest south African/Hindi accent "I told you to stop using the word partner to talk about me! It means something different here!" Hilarity didn't end there as their camera was programmed to bark every time the flash went off....
Second wedding was definitely same sex, I'd spoken with both manly men and arranged the ceremony in advance over email. Americans, neither of them had really considered marriage until their state said they couldn't. They'd been in a committed and loving relationship of more than twenty years, and the suggestion that it wasn't as valid, that they were second class citizens drove them over the border and into the care of a B&B I know. As they were expressing this to me I confess I got a wee bit angry with the govt and faith behind it. The whole sanctity of marriage argument is a huge pile of crap - most straight marriages these days end at five years. With people like my grandparents working it out for more than sixty, that's a bunch of indecisive and incomplete people at the bottom end of the spectrum really dragging the average down. I'm not opposed to divorce - if you can't be happy with someone, moving on is the bravest and most decent thing to do. However, it just seems like most people forget that marriage isn't all wine and roses, it's vinegar and thorns too and not for the faint of heart. When I found the words that might be comforting (because groom in angry tears over such a slight? have to say something) I was surprised (being ecumentically at liberty) that they came from the Christian Bible, "love is patient and kind, it is not envious or boastful or rude". I couldn't help thinking that the minds behind stating that someone's ability to love, to have and to hold, cherish and comfort, yadda yadda yadda was defined by a difference in legitimate human sexuality were more than a little rude. And I said that as a couple for more than twenty years they were an inspiration and I thanked them for stengthening the institution of marriage. Then we had cake, and saw that it was good...
Then - knitting Olympics casting on party at the Duke of York. The bar apparently didn't believe the fabulous organizers when they said we were loud. Bunch of knitters, right? Now I'm new to the whole knitting thing, and way new to the new knitting community out there but quiet? Not very. Crochet makers were referred to as "hookers". A rousing chant of "show us your knits" was not out of place. Apparently, there have been much calmer frat parties at the venue and the other patrons...well, all moved away from us on the group W bench. We drank through straws to keep our hands free, cheered *anything* and watched/participated in the opening ceremonies. Fan freaking tastic.
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