Today we got married in New York City. It was a long journey to this point with more than a few obstacles that started to make it seem like we would not make it to the court today. However, as in life, our love prevailed and the generosity of my partner's sister and her husband, native New Yorkers.
In NY gay men and lesbians are allowed to get married by the justice at the New York City Clerk. One must wait 24 hours after filling out the application or get a waiver. Yesterday, we spent half of the day getting there to file the papers and waiting for our number to come up to complete the task. We also went to see Times Square and Central Park and all that and just being a country girl in NYC was over the top. Unimaginable really and just like the movies.
On the train back to Long Island where we are staying, we got on no less than three wrong trains, then the cab got lost too and home to a bit more drama than we each could handle. Almost. Maybe that was the shining glory test of our devotion. Funny how knowing one another for many years before today can make it difficult and also perfect to weather storms that are part of life.
We woke early and went to NYC. When we got there, the court bailiff told us that the judge was available for about 30 minutes more to do our marriage ceremony. We just made it and walked into Room 321 and into an almost empty courtroom with worn wooden tables and chairs and an enormous group of words above the judge's bench that reads: IN GOD WE TRUST. Indeed.
One couple was there to be married and we watched as Justice Tingling entered and summoned them to the front of the bench. He was funny, erudite, insightful, real and very loving. We, their audience of four, cried and clapped when they pronounced them husband and wife.
Our turn came and we came before Judge Tingling who stood and joked with us to ease our tension. He directed our commitment to one another and I started crying. Judge Tingling's message, above everything else he said to us, is that many people come before him, and many same sex couples from California. He encouraged us to take our love and spread it to the rest of the world with pride and strength.
We cried, we committed to one another for life and we hugged and left Judge Tingling's courtroom better humans. We had a big lunch together and met another couple who had been married the day before. Two men from North Carolina who traveled to NYC. From all corners, we come to NYC to be recognized and respected and we received a blessing much bigger than we could have dreamed. I thought of my own family in Texas and how much their love heals me and made me want to make sure they know that. To all of you in Texas, I love you!
We then walked to the World Trade Center Memorial and spent the next few hours in a place of reverence that surely met our spiritual leapfrog. I have always wanted to see that sacred place and remember the many who died that day and gave their lives saving others. For me, the heart of NYC is within a simple truth that rings loudly in every corner of the city. Love, respect and compassion are everywhere in as much as the exotic, beautiful faces of multi-ethnic brides and grooms in the clerk's office of the New York City Clerk.
Thank you New York. Bless you!
Friday, May 25, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Start Spreadin' The News
We are flying to New York tomorrow to see my partner's sister and her family, and to get married. Since our home state, the lovely but retarded California, made same sex marriage a no-no, we are flying off to find the people who are willing to challenge their assumptions and do the right thing.
For me, I am so glad that it is somewhere else, somewhere they had to deal with jets flying into buildings, somewhere people from Europe came on ships to start new lives, somewhere they don't take anyone's crap but somewhere that they also feel passionately.
For me, California is all I have ever known and it is beautiful here. Northern California especially and we all know it. However, the state taxes are killing us and they are about to increase. Living here has become a place I want to leave because affording it fuels stress that is endless. I am sick of my home state saying I don't count because I am a minority class of humans. Not even.
So, Frank Sinatra has been singing in my head this week as we get ready to travel to NY and I hope that my fear of flying and adventuring out into the world is met with the kind of joy that committing further to the one I love can only bring. We shall make "a whole new start of it" and thank you for that, New York.
For me, I am so glad that it is somewhere else, somewhere they had to deal with jets flying into buildings, somewhere people from Europe came on ships to start new lives, somewhere they don't take anyone's crap but somewhere that they also feel passionately.
For me, California is all I have ever known and it is beautiful here. Northern California especially and we all know it. However, the state taxes are killing us and they are about to increase. Living here has become a place I want to leave because affording it fuels stress that is endless. I am sick of my home state saying I don't count because I am a minority class of humans. Not even.
So, Frank Sinatra has been singing in my head this week as we get ready to travel to NY and I hope that my fear of flying and adventuring out into the world is met with the kind of joy that committing further to the one I love can only bring. We shall make "a whole new start of it" and thank you for that, New York.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Donna Summer And Knocking My Head On A Brick Wall
Donna Summer died today and it has added to quite a few desperate, aching events. It just isn't right. Yet another grocery store had turned me down, and though I am working, I just have to wonder, what the hell. I am just gonna leave it at that.
God speed Queen Of Disco-my favorite time in life. What a voice, what an incredible voice. It just isn't right.
God speed Queen Of Disco-my favorite time in life. What a voice, what an incredible voice. It just isn't right.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Riding The Armadillo Into Mother's Day
All of a sudden I am working. I had an interview last Thursday and by day's end, a job offer and a starting time on Friday. The busiest weekend of the year for Mother's Day, I have attempted what seems like doing an Olympic swim without any training. At the end of day two, tired but showered and fed, I shall be back at it in the morning.
I work with many young, very kind humans which is taking some getting used to and howdy. I am the old one, though they have all welcomed me, checked on me and kept me afloat with their brilliance, kindness, patience and interest. This may be the first time that I have felt that in a work place and that is such a travesty. I am making less per hour than I have in decades and at times, I wonder if my old brain can memorize anything. However, my understanding of the kindness of (former) strangers has been tested each day with just that-their kindness.
This appears to be just a summer job for me and I am fine with just working an honest day and doing the best I can to do well, stay afloat, be present and earn some much needed greenbacks. I feel very humbled and oh so grateful to a nursery where I shopped as a child with my mother. That's right, more than 45 years later, I am hustling to stay up with my co-workers as an employee at the same place where I walked the aisles looking at plants with my mother. Kinda weird actually.
Today, I wore my Armadillo Hill Country Classic T-shirt in honor of the 18th Annual Armadillo Hill Country Classic which my family was a part of today. I thought of them as I was scooting all over the nursery and missed them terribly. We are lucky here in California in many ways including the weather and it is lonely at times to be so far away without a clan.
However, I feel kind of like I have ridden an Armadillo itself into Mother's Day as tomorrow promises more customers who are seeking the perfect plant to honor their mother or just make her happy so she doesn't complain that we never call her. Actually, my partner's son's could use a good talking to in that department but for me, I am grateful to have a job, at least for the summer, and an opportunity to be a part of something that makes me feel that I am a part of someone's happiness.
Happy Mother's Day and may it be just that for you wherever you are in life.
I work with many young, very kind humans which is taking some getting used to and howdy. I am the old one, though they have all welcomed me, checked on me and kept me afloat with their brilliance, kindness, patience and interest. This may be the first time that I have felt that in a work place and that is such a travesty. I am making less per hour than I have in decades and at times, I wonder if my old brain can memorize anything. However, my understanding of the kindness of (former) strangers has been tested each day with just that-their kindness.
This appears to be just a summer job for me and I am fine with just working an honest day and doing the best I can to do well, stay afloat, be present and earn some much needed greenbacks. I feel very humbled and oh so grateful to a nursery where I shopped as a child with my mother. That's right, more than 45 years later, I am hustling to stay up with my co-workers as an employee at the same place where I walked the aisles looking at plants with my mother. Kinda weird actually.
Today, I wore my Armadillo Hill Country Classic T-shirt in honor of the 18th Annual Armadillo Hill Country Classic which my family was a part of today. I thought of them as I was scooting all over the nursery and missed them terribly. We are lucky here in California in many ways including the weather and it is lonely at times to be so far away without a clan.
However, I feel kind of like I have ridden an Armadillo itself into Mother's Day as tomorrow promises more customers who are seeking the perfect plant to honor their mother or just make her happy so she doesn't complain that we never call her. Actually, my partner's son's could use a good talking to in that department but for me, I am grateful to have a job, at least for the summer, and an opportunity to be a part of something that makes me feel that I am a part of someone's happiness.
Happy Mother's Day and may it be just that for you wherever you are in life.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Miner's Gold
A gold miner's struggle to find
the mother lode,
Texas is rumored to have
more jobs than people
ready to stand in line for
them,
damn the heat and humidity for
a chance to work again.
Texas, of all places, attempts to claim
us
with its' largess and the promise of
a new beginning there
as if all it took was to
load the car with our few
worldly possessions and
move on.
God knows that I long for fresh
ground
beneath my feet
and a chance to be with my family on
the weekends,
work,
run,
live on with hope.
God knows
and yet I remain here
in
the land of make believe.
the mother lode,
Texas is rumored to have
more jobs than people
ready to stand in line for
them,
damn the heat and humidity for
a chance to work again.
Texas, of all places, attempts to claim
us
with its' largess and the promise of
a new beginning there
as if all it took was to
load the car with our few
worldly possessions and
move on.
God knows that I long for fresh
ground
beneath my feet
and a chance to be with my family on
the weekends,
work,
run,
live on with hope.
God knows
and yet I remain here
in
the land of make believe.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
AIDS still kills our brethren
Today I spent the morning at my favorite food bank who serves the men, women and children in our county who live with HIV. We provide groceries and provide referrals and resource contacts. We sometimes are their sole contact in life and so we cajole and show interest in their lives. I find it to be the best volunteer service out of many as it has a fun loving spirit with hundreds of volunteers who are very dedicated to the clients.
I have been working there on Thursday mornings this month to sub for a volunteer who is off gallivanting in Europe. Lucky man. Each volunteer time slot has its own click it seems and I have not felt that cushy feeling I get on Saturdays. They know one another and not me so they have their preferences. However, two volunteers have been friendly and I felt comfortable with them. We all serve the clients first and foremost so it isn't that hard to just do the work. It is a pleasure actually.
Truth be told, I am there to be of service and I get some happiness from pretending it is a grocery store where I work. I still yearn to stock groceries and produce. At FFT, I do just that. I laugh too and meet new people. It is a place with a big heart and I feel honored to be one of the many, many volunteers.
However, today I came home feeling distracted by the two deaths of volunteers recently. J. and E. were volunteers and men living with AIDS. I was stunned in a way and kept thinking of their faces as I drove home past the few apple orchards left in Sebastopol and now blooming. I thought of J. who had a very wry wit and whom I wrote about in this blog at one time. I thought of E. who had served at FFT since the 1990s and I cannot imagine that he has died.
It is that simple, in life, that the deaths of people who came into my circle made me feel their loss profoundly. Being at FFT is all the more meaningful because we help people living with HIV live. Some of us have become complacent about the idea of cocktails as a prescription for eternal life. As a friend who came in for groceries today said, "We have been through this before." AIDS is still killing our brethren. God speed my friends, you are already greatly missed.
I have been working there on Thursday mornings this month to sub for a volunteer who is off gallivanting in Europe. Lucky man. Each volunteer time slot has its own click it seems and I have not felt that cushy feeling I get on Saturdays. They know one another and not me so they have their preferences. However, two volunteers have been friendly and I felt comfortable with them. We all serve the clients first and foremost so it isn't that hard to just do the work. It is a pleasure actually.
Truth be told, I am there to be of service and I get some happiness from pretending it is a grocery store where I work. I still yearn to stock groceries and produce. At FFT, I do just that. I laugh too and meet new people. It is a place with a big heart and I feel honored to be one of the many, many volunteers.
However, today I came home feeling distracted by the two deaths of volunteers recently. J. and E. were volunteers and men living with AIDS. I was stunned in a way and kept thinking of their faces as I drove home past the few apple orchards left in Sebastopol and now blooming. I thought of J. who had a very wry wit and whom I wrote about in this blog at one time. I thought of E. who had served at FFT since the 1990s and I cannot imagine that he has died.
It is that simple, in life, that the deaths of people who came into my circle made me feel their loss profoundly. Being at FFT is all the more meaningful because we help people living with HIV live. Some of us have become complacent about the idea of cocktails as a prescription for eternal life. As a friend who came in for groceries today said, "We have been through this before." AIDS is still killing our brethren. God speed my friends, you are already greatly missed.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Bumper Sticker Of The Week
One has to wonder sometimes just what exactly those guardian angels are thinking of when they pull stunts like this week's finest.
The sewer pipe replacement project continues at our corner where the front loaders and crane thingee with the tank-like appearance grind away our street, rattling the windows and coating the sidewalks with grimy dust. Those guys work hard and drive those huge pieces of machinery around the corners at amazing rates of speed. Not one collision. Knock wood somewhere.
However, my laptop crashed last night with some kind of DOS warning page that led me to call Dell. You know what I am going to say. A man who called himself "Charles" with a very heavy Indian accent spent an entire hour putting me on hold and not helping me one bit. I was civil and calm until the end when he charged me another $20 for the program disks that Dell never sent with my laptop two years ago. Funny, he didn't ask me how he could "provide me with excellent service."
I am now writing on our desktop computer. If and when the disks come to me via some freighter from somewhere, I will try to do it myself. Maybe my laptop is toast but I am not ready to recycle it just yet and I still know what excellent customer service is and that was not it. Somewhere in Texas, Michael Dell is sipping his California Chardonnay or Pinot and I am wondering how I will afford a new computer two years after I bought it.
Seconds come via the job market in life or something that looks like a chance to put money in my dwindling savings account via Craigslist. "ORGANIC PRODUCE STOCKER" was listed on Craigslist and yes, all caps. That should have been my forewarning. True enough, the small market in Occidental would be a hard, 30-40 minute drive west from here with only 16 hours promised on the weekends for a minimum wage. Still, I felt a tingle at the idea that I might be able to gain some experience. I applied for other jobs this week as they came along, keeping Occidental in my mind.
Yesterday, there was a missed call and no message. Hmmmm. Telemarketer? I called Occidental Market today once my volunteer morning stint was done and was told the job had been filled. I thanked the woman and wondered if her all caps and her lack of a voice mail were my work of just grinding along trying to find something that will sustain me no matter what or my guardian angel keeping my Mini from scooting off Occidental Road in the fog? Believing the later keeps me from feeling bitter.
Third, yet another volunteer orientation to walk dogs at the Sonoma County Humane Society, three weeks after the first volunteer orientation led me to feel like it was all just a terrible waste of human effort. I understand, from that two hours of "orientation", that the entire dog behavioral department had been laid off and the Director rehired with no support staff. Additionally, only five volunteers could handle the dogs with behavioral issues, of which there were more than not, and I wondered what was really wrong there. I am not a dog trainer though I walk three Greyhounds each morning and it just felt so wrong. I want to help where I can but don't make it so freaking complicated.
Fourth, I showed up to do some office volunteering at a local organization, only to find that the volunteer coordinator was out sick. I had driven 20 minutes to get there so I was angry. She called me and apologized and it is hardly her fault. Overworked and understaffed as well, they use volunteers to get by on a string and a prayer.
From an underpaid produce job to a home made latte this afternoon, I wonder if there is something out there for me or is this going to be a very long summer. It is not true that if you do good deeds you will be rewarded though most of us that were raised in our Judeo-Christian culture know that message so well. However, if I have angels flying close to me-one has to be a white and red, party color Greyhound with big freaking white wings, I wish they would get to the punchline. I am plum worn out and it isn't funny anymore!
Finally, I saw the best bumper sticker this week and that is my big finish here-and really, this blog is something I write from my true self so I want that other me to listen up:
"What is right is not always popular.
What is popular is not always right."
The sewer pipe replacement project continues at our corner where the front loaders and crane thingee with the tank-like appearance grind away our street, rattling the windows and coating the sidewalks with grimy dust. Those guys work hard and drive those huge pieces of machinery around the corners at amazing rates of speed. Not one collision. Knock wood somewhere.
However, my laptop crashed last night with some kind of DOS warning page that led me to call Dell. You know what I am going to say. A man who called himself "Charles" with a very heavy Indian accent spent an entire hour putting me on hold and not helping me one bit. I was civil and calm until the end when he charged me another $20 for the program disks that Dell never sent with my laptop two years ago. Funny, he didn't ask me how he could "provide me with excellent service."
I am now writing on our desktop computer. If and when the disks come to me via some freighter from somewhere, I will try to do it myself. Maybe my laptop is toast but I am not ready to recycle it just yet and I still know what excellent customer service is and that was not it. Somewhere in Texas, Michael Dell is sipping his California Chardonnay or Pinot and I am wondering how I will afford a new computer two years after I bought it.
Seconds come via the job market in life or something that looks like a chance to put money in my dwindling savings account via Craigslist. "ORGANIC PRODUCE STOCKER" was listed on Craigslist and yes, all caps. That should have been my forewarning. True enough, the small market in Occidental would be a hard, 30-40 minute drive west from here with only 16 hours promised on the weekends for a minimum wage. Still, I felt a tingle at the idea that I might be able to gain some experience. I applied for other jobs this week as they came along, keeping Occidental in my mind.
Yesterday, there was a missed call and no message. Hmmmm. Telemarketer? I called Occidental Market today once my volunteer morning stint was done and was told the job had been filled. I thanked the woman and wondered if her all caps and her lack of a voice mail were my work of just grinding along trying to find something that will sustain me no matter what or my guardian angel keeping my Mini from scooting off Occidental Road in the fog? Believing the later keeps me from feeling bitter.
Third, yet another volunteer orientation to walk dogs at the Sonoma County Humane Society, three weeks after the first volunteer orientation led me to feel like it was all just a terrible waste of human effort. I understand, from that two hours of "orientation", that the entire dog behavioral department had been laid off and the Director rehired with no support staff. Additionally, only five volunteers could handle the dogs with behavioral issues, of which there were more than not, and I wondered what was really wrong there. I am not a dog trainer though I walk three Greyhounds each morning and it just felt so wrong. I want to help where I can but don't make it so freaking complicated.
Fourth, I showed up to do some office volunteering at a local organization, only to find that the volunteer coordinator was out sick. I had driven 20 minutes to get there so I was angry. She called me and apologized and it is hardly her fault. Overworked and understaffed as well, they use volunteers to get by on a string and a prayer.
From an underpaid produce job to a home made latte this afternoon, I wonder if there is something out there for me or is this going to be a very long summer. It is not true that if you do good deeds you will be rewarded though most of us that were raised in our Judeo-Christian culture know that message so well. However, if I have angels flying close to me-one has to be a white and red, party color Greyhound with big freaking white wings, I wish they would get to the punchline. I am plum worn out and it isn't funny anymore!
Finally, I saw the best bumper sticker this week and that is my big finish here-and really, this blog is something I write from my true self so I want that other me to listen up:
"What is right is not always popular.
What is popular is not always right."
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