Last weekend, before going to the birthday party of a friend who is separating from his partner, I found out an old blog friend was about to die. I tried to have a good time surrounded by the affectionate fellows at the party, but really just locked lips with Jose Cuervo and tried not to contemplate how young men shouldn’t suddenly pass away. The next day, the Boyfriend (who had just celebrated his birthday) and I (who, like most grooms, was slightly hungover) registered as domestic partners. Well, we got notarized, at least, at the P.O. Plus. Which was on the same weekend that another longstanding pair of blog friends announced that their vacation trip to Massachusetts was partly because they were getting married there. The next day after I ran (while trying not to think of my first major crush and his friend, the friend who was my age and a runner and who had just died unexpectedly) I hit the kinky gay street fair. I attended with a friend in an open relationship; I flirted and got flirted with a number of men in unusual costumes, and then I came home with a beer buzz to try and cook a Norman Rockwell dinner for my husband my domestic partner my increasingly inaccurately termed spousal equivalent The Boyfriend.
It’s been complicated.
And in the time that I’ve been looking at this entry thinking about all this, of course, the District Courts in California overturned the ban on gay marriage, and gay weddings here might start again as soon as Friday. (I expect not, but possible.)
I have had a number of feelings on all of these matters. They’ve all been complicated.
I’ll try to get them out eventually, hopefully before I trip over any more milestones. Who left all these here?