Defending Marriage

I’m married.  It really isn’t anybody’s business whether I’m same-sex married or opposite-sex married, but just for the record, I’m opposite-sex married.  It could have gone the other way… but it didn’t.

I do not need you to defend my marriage.  I do not need the government to defend my marriage.  I do not need anyone’s religion to defend my marriage.  My marriage is not in any danger of failing because my gay brothers and lesbian sisters are getting married.  Good grief.  That’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard (and believe me when I say I’ve heard some really dumb things).  Also, when gays and lesbians get married, it has ZERO affect on my marriage.  Why would it?  That would be like saying, “Oh my god, my nephew is getting married, and now all of a sudden I’m not going to want to be married anymore!”  See?  Stupid thoughts.

The truth of the matter is that marriage equality — the fact that my gay and lesbian friends can marry the person they love most — strengthens my marriage.  Really.  Marriage is freakin’ hard work.  Sometimes I wonder if being married is actually worth all that hard work.  Seriously.  I do.

And then I look at my gay and lesbian friends who have been together 20, 30, even 40 years — some married for a few years, many not — and I am ashamed.  I am ashamed that I think it would be easier to just give up and stop putting in the hard work necessary to be married.  There are certainly enough other people out there who are opposite-sex married who have given up on being married.  Many of these people have given up two or three or four or (Goddess help you) even more times on marriage.

I’m just wondering here… how can anyone who thinks giving up on marriage is entitled to any opinion whatsoever on someone else’s right to be married.  Yeah.  That’s what I thought.  They aren’t entitled to an opinion.  And yet… they think they are.

It’s really amazing how arrogant some people are.  Listen… tend to your own marriage, and let the rest of us tend to ours.  And by “ours,” I mean not just those of us who are opposite-sex married, but all the LGBT people who want to get married who can’t because you’re such arrogant, selfish pricks.

Cooking and Baking and Sewing, Oh My

I mentioned recently on my Facebook page that I sort of wished I liked to cook and bake and sew.  I imagine that if I liked to cook, I’d eat more than fruit smoothies, salads, spicy lentils and the occasional frozen vegan entree or pizza.  I imagine that if I liked to bake, I could make yummy vegan baked goodies for the chorus’ dessert table at our concerts, instead of buying pre-baked tartlets and snickerdoodles from the grocery store.  I imagine that if I liked to sew, I could darn socks, repair ripped seams and even sew new outfits.

But then I come to my senses.  I know my diet is kind of boring, but at least everything I eat tastes pretty good.  I sometimes go out for some Middle Eastern food or pasta, or will have Chinese food delivered.  Food doesn’t seem to be a big deal to me.  I need to eat so I don’t pass out, and I prefer my food to taste good.  Beyond that… meh.  Sometimes I like sweets, but not really all that often.  Apparently, I am not terribly normal.  For example, for the Spousal Unit, food is an integral part of any celebration.  ”Yay!  It’s Wednesday!  Let’s order Chinese for a treat!”  Really?  You’re celebrating the fact that you made it half way through the work week, and you deserve a “treat”?  Listen, if you want you give me a treat, just buy me one of the books from my Amazon wish list, ok?  ”Yay!  It’s Wednesday!  I didn’t kill a coworker!  Time for a new book!!”

I can sew… I can darn socks (though with these stupid new compact fluorescent bulbs, it’s not as easy), I can sew buttons back on, I can repairs seams and I have even been known to construct new outfits.  But do I enjoy doing these things?  Oh, hell no!

The dislike of cooking and baking all makes sense.  (Here comes the therapy session.)  From about age 9 or 10, I had to take on the task of making sure dinner didn’t get destroyed after my mother passed out from her drinking binges.  Everything had to be made the way dad liked things (i.e., bland).  If dad didn’t like a particular food, we didn’t eat it.  I was 19 years old before I ever ate broccoli.  So cooking was an onerous chore, and not the least bit interesting.

Baking was fun, because it’s something I did with my grandmother.  But she died when I was 14, and the joy just went out of the whole experience.  Sad… but true.

And sewing?  Well, I remember the first outfit I ever made for myself.  Mind you, this was the late 60s or early 70s, so don’t judge too harshly.  It was a culottes and poncho set, made with a nice cotton fabric with lots of bright colors and geometric patterns.  There was even pom pon edging on the ponchos.  I loved it so very much.  When I finished it, and came down from my bedroom to show my mother, her comment was something like, “That has got to be the ugliest outfit I’ve ever seen.”  Really, ma?  Really?  Well, that was the last outfit I ever made.  I don’t think I wore the culottes more than once or twice, but I did wear the poncho a lot in high school.  Because you know?  I LOVED that crazy, bright fabric.

What got me starting on this particular wander down memory lane?  Well, my blog acquaintance Jia has been posting recipes over on her blog, Blade and Cauldron, some of which I may actually get around to testing for myself.  And I thought… well, even if I don’t like to cook and bake, sometimes I do it anyway.  And sometimes (ok, usually, because I am good at cooking even though I don’t enjoy it) those cooking and baking experiments turn out rather well.  So, maybe I, too, will share some of my recipes (and recipe modifications, because sometimes I just have to veganize a recipe I already have tried and like, but can eat anymore).  I don’t make up recipes all on my own (except for my spicy lentils), so I’ll be sure to give credit where credit is due.  I’m not promising anything… but just maybe I’ll be posting here more often.