Happy Anniversary

I am in the worst kind of mood today. I started off okay but slowly slipped into being the biggest, most miserable bitch. Borderline evil. I don’t know why. Good things happened today, an amazing turn of events for one of the boards I sit on that is cause for celebration, and it’s my anniversary.

I have to find a way to be positive.

Earlier, a friend of mine wrote me an email, and then my sister called to wish me a happy anniversary.

Huh? I had not remembered.

It's not that I don't love my wife or that I'm mad at her. I'm not. On November 13th, 2004, Jeanine and I were legally married. Our real anniversary, however, is March 2nd, 1991. I’ve been married 17 years, not three.

Of course, the March 2nd date was not the first time we moved in together, or the first time we looked at each other and made a deep commitment. It was the first time we had sex. I didn’t marry everyone I had sex with, thank god.

The problem with gay and lesbian relationships is that until Vermont’s groundbreaking civil union law, we had no legal way to define our commitments. I could say the first time we signed a lease together, or the first time we bought a home together, or when we decided to start having kids, but none really fit as clearly as getting married does. No more fooling around, you are legally bound to each other, from this day forward, no ifs ands or buts.

I remember being completely insulted by a straight woman who told me how different my life would be now that I was married. I’d been with my wife long enough to almost be divorced, how dare she try to tell me how different it would be.

It is different, but not in the way she saw it. It is different because I am protected in my state. I am allowed all the privileges of marriage- on a state level. I cannot walk out the door and neither can Jeanine, although we’ve both threatened to, more than once. We are legally tied together.

But not on a federal level. That’s another 1,000 legal rights I’m being denied. Most people assume being married means being married, no matter what state you may move to but that’s a privilege only heterosexuals enjoy. If we moved to any other state, our marriage certificate would be worth nothing.

When we file federal taxes, our marriage is worthless.

When we participate in any federal program, our marriage is worthless.

The glass is half full for those of us lucky few in Massachusetts. We have a glass, to begin. I am grateful to live in such a progressive state. I cannot imagine living anywhere else.

Nice try but I’m still in a rotten mood. My wife is working late tonight and probably doesn’t remember it’s our anniversary either. Ben filled out a booklet signing us up for a pile of magazines so he could earn a Plush Bear MP3 Holder. He thinks it’s the M3 machine, but it is not. When I told him he could not sign us up for anything he wailed and headed up the stairs, telling me yet again how I have ruined his life. Jake is practicing the drums and asking me on every quarter note, is it time to stop? Zachary is miserable about his new haircut and sulked his way through dinner, reminding me over and over again that all he wanted was to keep his sideburns- was that too much to ask for?

For the record? Yes. It was.

With all these new vitamin waters to help you to rejuvenate, energize, you think they’d make one to get your head out of your ass. I’d buy a case.

I’m rambling, this is probably one of the worst blogs I’ve ever written and I’m starting to get a headache. I’m going to go to bed, pull the covers over my head and wait until tomorrow to say another word.