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.

Too damn hot.....

Where's my wife and her biodiesel truck!?
Take me to the beach! I'll slather you with sunscreen.
I made really good ice tea from super fancy tea I bought in France. Let's complain and get naked together! I want to act out and you know just how to goad me into doing something crazy.
We might have a little fight, but its just because our blood sugar is low and its so damn hot. We'll make up by smearing bodily fluids all over an alley when the sun goes down.
Get me some water?
I love you!

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.

Sick :(

Being sick makes wanting a wife an intense and pragmatic desire. I'm a really good sick nurse, and I want a wife who is too, a lovely lady laden with tissues and juices and dvds. I want the kind of wife that will hug and snuggle me even when I'm sick not one who won't touch me for fear of her own contamination. And we'll work out a system of herbal remedies with western medicine as the back up, and try to avoid anti0biotics together. She'll have wet cloths in a rainbow of temperatures and read a mean story. Most importantly though, she'll kind of enjoy the chance to baby loud, headstrong me, definitely not resent it, and know well that when she's the one sweating snot I'll be there with a bottomless glass of water, some tinctures, her favorite story and a smile.

Winona?

Winona Ryder might be my wife.

I've always liked her since her portrayal of hot goth Lydia in Beetlejuice, and my taste in women definitely run towards the lovely, brunette and weird.

But after recently reading this on (don't judge me!) people.com*:

"Though single, Ryder would like to have children. "I think I assumed I would be married and have a kid by the age I am now," says the 35-year-old. "It kind of occurred to me for the first time last year: I actually want to go on and have kids."

And while her past boyfriends have included such famous men as Matt Damon, Dave Pirner of Soul Asylum and Johnny Depp, Ryder says she's still looking for the right man for her. "You know how people ask, 'Who is the love of your life?' God, I hope I haven't met that person yet, in a way, because I'm single," she says. "I hope I haven't had that, since that would be sad."

...I feel the wheels turning.

She lives in San Francisco now. She sounds like she's ready for kids and a commitment. She has similar concerns about her love life. And she's using gender neutral language like "that person" instead of a pronoun like "him".
Enh? ENH?!?

If anyone knows how to set me up with the charming Ms. Ryder, please do be in touch. Rest assured: I'm an excellent, and if need be, discreet, date.
It's just crazy enough to work!



*(Seriously though, that was the only time I've ever read people.com. Things have been strange lately and I find myself doing very out-of-character things sometimes. Which means I can definitely relate to Winona's shoplifting incident. Like for awhile, I was really entranced with the Britney Spears saga. But even writing that gives a warped impression of my interests; I don't even have a TV! If I sound defensive, it's because I am, I do not know myself to be a mainstream-celebrity interested person, and the only explanation I can give is that we all go through odd phases now and then and I guess I've been going to the nail salon without a book more often recently. I don't know. Bizarro.)

8:34 p.m.

Tonight, at about 8:34 pm, my biological clock went off.

I felt it ring like an alarm in my body. I've wanted a baby for years, it's been one of the most stable aspects of "the plan", in fact I used to want seventeen, but as I've gotten closer to a time that such an undertaking would be a good idea I've lowered the number to one or maybe two. I've also started wondering "oh yeah, when is *that* going to happen?" as I've gotten out of 'too-young' and into 'exceptionally reasonable' child-bearing age. This is true for a number of my bigger life goals; I sat in 'too young' long enough to totally miss the beginning of 'auspicious time'.

I kept meaning to address this issue, the baby thing, here, but I wanted to write some big fancy essay about the history of my desire for motherhood, the implications of overpopulation and my goals as a parent and yadda yadda yadda, but instead, I'm ovulating and in the middle of my first Mindfulness class I had a visceral feeling of a baby alarm. I laughed out loud when it happened. As usual my elaborate and procrastinated intentions get severed and overthrown by immediate reality. I want a baby. Growing, inside me. I want to be pregnant and I want to raise a child and I'm scared shitless of it but I want it anyway.

It's not surprising that this happened now. I just got the news this week that my two best friends from high-school, one of whom was my first love, are both pregnant. I've known of their marriages for some time, but the fact of their simultaneous pregnancies felt like a big bowl of cold spaghetti falling in my lap. (This image possibly courtesy of The Sopranos.)

Feelings ranged from the classic: "Holy Shit!?!?!"
to the skeptical: "Really? Both? Married? And pregnant?... Holy Shit!"
to the childishly jealous: "I want a spouse and a baby!...and *I* wanted to knock her up!!!!"

On further investigation of my high school coterie, it seems that most of them are married, and many be-childed. While this may seem like a big ol' duh of normal life, I live in queer San Francisco and I, for one, was shocked. I really haven't heard of so many people I know being straight, married, or breeding....ever. It puts a new perspective on my search for a wife, like, gender aside, actually it's not such a weird thing to want...or to get! Everybody else seems to get them, and some of them used to be the people who projected their wedding fantasies with me. Not just that, but people I fucked! Quite a few people I have fucked are now married. I know, its normal, no one else is impressed, but my mind, she is blown. How this whole marriage thing happens (and so regularly!) amongst 20-somethings remains a mystery to me; most of the people I know in the day to day who are married got married in their 40's or so or did it for health insurance. The decisions, the process, the family dinners...all foreign and intriguing to my little colonialist anthropologist mind.

So now I'm out, not that I was ever trying to be in, but yes; I want a hot, sexy, healthy loving commitment, and make that with a side of progeny. No, it doesn't have to be immediate, but no, it can't be ignored.

Mommy once told me when I was very young and I asked her why it took her three years of marriage to get pregnant with me, "It's fun to be married for a little while before you have a baby." I'll buy that, though if I was her, I'd already be married for two years by now....

Momma says....

Today during a scattered phone conversation with my mother she suggested I find someone (i.e. a partner) I can "do things with", in other words collaborate. Well, gee, why hadn't I thought of that? This whole time I've been hoping for a mate, but I should've been hoping for a mate *and* a co-producer. This is like the apple of knowledge as far as I'm concerned, most tantalizing and most terrifying. It's like the dirty fantasy I can't even really admit to myself I have.
Oh, what of the potential emotional carnage!? It's best not to envision. At this point, I will be pleased as punch if I find a nice wifey and some artist types who want to work with me and leave the rest up to.....well hopefully something with a good sense of humor.


On that note, I am jealous of and impressed as fuck by The Wasteland Comedy Hour, with T.S. Elliot which was directed last winter by my friend Jason in Boston. I always get a little envious when I see groups of collaborators that obviously work tremendously well together.
Someday, my collaboratrices will come.