R.I.P. Del Martin, One Bad-Ass Wife

Del Martin, lesbian activist, co-founder of Lyon Martin Clinic and the Daughters of Bilitis, first out lesbian elected to office in the National Organization of Women, and wife to Phyllis Lyon, died this past Wednesday.

She was partners with Phyllis for 55 years, and they got married during the first wave of Newsomized gay marriages a few years again, and then were the first couple to (re-) wed once same-sex marriages got the green light in the state of California this year.

Del sounds like not only a totally amazing person, who personally did a lot for the openness and acceptance of queers in this country (including me being able to conduct my wife hunt out here on the internets, for all to see), but also a wonderful and committed wife.

May we all, those of us who want partners anyway, be so lucky.

Rest in Peace, Del Martin. You kicked a ton of ass, and we are incredibly grateful for it.

Brand Spanking New Gay Day Proposal

I took the snakes for a walk to the ice cream parlor yesterday and Wendy convinced me I'd be arrested if I went in the nude so I wore the skimpiest slip that still covered bits I could find.
The heat really makes me want to act out. There was a new scooper I'd never seen before and she freaked out, in a good way, about the snakes. She was beautiful: long red hair, nice arm tattoos, looked like a lovely femme but sounded like a rough and tumble dude when she talked. Perfect. Did I mention she works at the ice cream parlor?

As I was sitting outside with Wendy, covered in snakes and ice cream dribbles, I realized; hey, that's my wife.

I borrowed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a note:
"Gay Marriage is legal in CA as of today. Whaddya say?
<3 Sadie and the snakes" and my email address.

I folded it up, kissed one side with my smeared and ice cream sticky lipstick (an accurate, if not glamorous representation of me) and squeezed past the line to go back inside.
She was bent over, her arms deep in the freezer, hair blocking me from her view.
So I took the passive agressive approach: handed the note to her co-worker at the register, said "Will you please give this to her?" and ran away.

Hah!

So far, no email. No surprise. But at least I celebrated brand spanking new gay day to the fullest extent I was able, i.e. proposing to a stranger.
You can't say I'm not trying.

Show me the Wives!!!!

All right ladies and womens and sir-ma'ams and ze's and she's and those who prefer to remain labelless.

This just in from a webiste off-shoot of my former East Coast daily:
Gay marriage now legal in California. Arnie says he'll uphold the ruling.
Step up.

Bride me. I'm ready. I won't propose via text. I will shower you with chocolate or flowers or kisses or bus tickets or fish eggs or vegan fish eggs or whatever you prefer.
Buy me an opal ring. Let's do this thing.


And some food for thought:As previously noted I dabble in magic. When I started this blog, Gay Marriage *was not* legal in California, though hardly anyone could quite believe it.
Less than 6 months later gay marriage *becomes legal*. Now I'm not saying there's a direct causative correlation, but I'm not not saying that either.

Think about it.