Nothing But Nonsense

I have been lax with posting. I blame it on the new journal, which contains nothing but nonsense. Quite unlike this blog. ::snerk snerk::

Thus far, I've avoided talking overmuch about weddingish things because I myself know how old it gets when otherwise creative and insightful bloggers descend into the abyss of boredom that is wedding planning. For months. Ergh. I was going to mention how mlerphy (technical term) my experience has been, but I think I will instead share a remarkable piece of insight that my mediator-type brain can barely wrap itself around:

You can't please everybody, so please yourself.

As much as I want family members to be able to partake in this occasion, Steven has a point: If you ask, you will find that anybody can dig up a complaint or two about any date, any time of year, any venue. So, we have decided to go with our original plan and have a Christmas wedding. There won't be an open bar at the reception because a) I --pardon me, WE-- can't afford it, b) we ourselves are lightweights and require only a couple of glasses of fancy French (pronounced fronsch, oui oui) wine and perhaps a smidge of champagne. There will not be any dancing because a) WE can't afford it and b) there isn't enough room at our reception venue to accommodate a dance floor.

For those traditional folk who look askance at me and ask, "but what about the first dance and father-daughter dance?" That just isn't me. It isn't Steven, and it isn't my father. If I had my way (and some extra funds), Steven and I would have a first duet, and my father and I would have a father-daughter plasma-cutting session. But, we'd need a piano for the first thing and goggles for all of our guests for the 2nd.

I have never liked the idea of being "given away," like a present; that's just no good! Here, have a woman, she's all yours, do what you will. Don't forget to feed her and give her fresh water every day. It smacks of implications that I lack ownership/control of myself, my own happiness and safety... Of my sexuality. I'm an adult and can stand independently from my father, and from S, and likewise for S from his parents and I. I'm not leaving the shelter of my father's arms for the shelter of those of my husband (both will freely offer hugs, even after the wedding, I'm sure). I am also not leaving one family behind to be subsumed, as tradition dictates, by the family of my husband. I gets to keep my name if I wants, thankyouVERYmuch! Plus. My first and last names were designed to sound totally awesome together.

::huff huff huff::

Orrrrrrrrrrrr... I could completely revamp my attitudes and enjoy the simple act of walking down the aisle arm in arm with my dad, and dismiss society's whims as irrelevant. I do so enjoy making statements though. Hrmf.

You know, inherently sad, happy, devastating, offending, enlightening, trying, inspiring events don't really exist in the world. They only exist in our attitudes regarding them. People despise claiming ownership of their grief, of their happiness (yes!), of their violent acts; they blame others, they blame luck, they blame God... There's nothing more terrifying and harmful than a hateful, misguided, cowardly person who believes with utmost certainty that God justifies his/her actions. These people have no ownership, no individual mores. There is no need for them to develop higher forms of ethical standards; they are stuck immobile on the very lowest tier because of their lack of accountability. They are free of blame. They have effectively eliminated any potential for fear or doubt. Not only that, but any who oppose them are inherently ungodly.

::shiver::

I saw Ponyo on Friday and loved it, but I should have waited until Sunday night to see it, because I needed happy little goldfish and fairy princesses with cupcakes and kittens after seeing District 9 (which was incredible).

This week, I'm trying to get all the logistics organized for moving on Friday! S and I are both taking Friday off to spend it disassembling my furniture, loading up the truck and getting all of my things over to our new place. I would LOVE to get all of my things moved by Saturday afternoon before S goes to Rigoletto rehearsal, but I think S will probably take a week or so to phase his belongings from his old apartment to the new one. Neither of us have much "stuff." I tend not to amass junk and bric-a-brac, and S is tossing most of the clutter at his place. I just have some awkward furniture and breakable porcelain.

And two insane kitties.