It’s all fun and games until someone gets married.

So it occurred to RHS and I on Sunday as we were shoveling awesome breakfasty goodness  into our mouths having a nice Brunch Date to belatedly celebrate our 5 years of being a Team [That’s how we think of ourselves, as a Team. We even have a team name and a secret handshake.  That’s okay.  Take a moment.  It will still be true when you re-read it.] that we were less than a year away from our big come and celebrate the permanence of our relationship and bring us presents¹ party.

So yeah, we’re wedding² planning.

I know that this will be a surprise, but… I have not been planning my wedding since I was a little girl.  I’ve been planning it, seriously planning it, since Sunday.

RHS and I made lists and talked about options and made more lists and suddenly it occurred to me that I might end up with one of those god-awful wedding binders and began to panic a little bit, but then I calmed myself down by telling myself that if I had to have a wedding binder then I’d have to buy a new wedding messenger bag to carry the binder and that and the Bloody Mary made me feel a lot better.  That, and the thought that a god-awful wedding binder is kind of a tiny cost to pay to get hitched to RHS.

So yeah… wedding planning.

This means that every now and then there will be a post about the planning stages.  Posts like, Why can’t we just throw your ethics out of the window so that I can have that nice diamond ring, hunny?  Or the inevitable: People need mini-cheeseburgers more than they need crudites.  It’s a fact.

I hope that you (and RHS) can bear with me.

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¹Go look at the loading graphics of KitchenAid.com.  Those are kind of dirty, right?

²Maine has a big vote on Question 1 coming up.  Get out the word to your friends in Maine to show up and vote NO on Question 1 on November 3rd.

2 4 6 8 Vote for Love not for Hate.

Champagne, has, on occasion, led me to make some decisions that while extremely fun at the time were ultimately uhm unwise.

Like say… agreeing to play strip poker on the millennial New Year’s Eve after drinking a couple of bottles of champagne and then proceeding to tell everyone which cards you had and what your strategy was.
And by strategy I mean, “Go Fish.”

Unwise.
But fun!
Though oddly chilly.

Anyhoods today champagne led me to the Prop 8 Protest at City Hall this afternoon.

Girlfriend and I went with a nice group who, while understanding the importance of our presence and the presence of other protesters, brought a welcome sense of levity to the situation.
By the time we got there the weather had turned far more threatening than the police officers (some of whom were taking pictures with the protesters) but the atmosphere was buoyant. We amused ourselves by pointing out the clever signs (and cute boys) that we liked.

[Note: I am super good at scoping out cute gay boys. I don’t think that I can call it cruising because I think that it’s pretty clear that boys aren’t the ocean liner I want to lose my lunch on and I try not to do it when straight boys are involved because well, I don’t think I’m flirting, but they always do and it’s so tedious to have to explain that the very fact that I’m a lesbian means specifically that I don’t want them to watch.
But put me in a crowd of gay boys and I am totally at home. Plus it’s a great way to get a gander at some Fashion Do’s.]

The sound system on our side of Broadway wasn’t very good but we filled in the gaps in sound with our own pithy comments.

Like this one.

We here in the Baby Power Dyke and Redheaded Stepchild household believe in marriage equality, the separation of Church and State, Change, a more perfect union and that no one has the right to make us second-class citizens.