Institutional Evolution

So, in the last week I had a discussion with a friend about “marriage” vs. “civil unions” or “domestic partnerships”, and today I heard story about a possible amendment to the CA constitution that would replace “marriage” with “domestic partnerships” in state laws. A number of my acquaintances will probably think this is a great idea.

I absolutely think that the civil/legal and religious aspects of (the package of legal rights and social recognition we call) marriage should be separated, and that religious officials should not have the authority to perform legally binding ceremonies. Civil/legal ceremony (or, really, just signing the license) for the legal package, with an optional religious or social ceremony if the couple wants it, no problem.

However, I fail to see why changing the name of the legal/civil part of this from “marriage” to “domestic partnership” is meaningful when it’s the same bundle of legal rights and protections. Marriage as an institution has social value. True, it also has a lot of troubling patriarchal/oppressive/exclusionary aspects, and that sucks… but why can’t we, as individuals and a society, allow marriage as an institution to evolve into something else?

My concern is that replacing legal marriage with domestic partnership is going to deny couples who aren’t “married” the same degree of social respect. And while I realize that you can’t force anybody to respect something if they don’t want to, I don’t see any reason to make it easier for bigoted assholes to dismiss relationships because they’re not “marriages”.

Certainly, some people aren’t going to care. Some people recognize that a relationship–married, unmarried, partnered, gay, straight, monogamous, poly, whatever–is defined by whatever the people involved want, regardless of what it’s called. That the level of seriousness and commitment is determined by the people in the relationship, not its legal status or what they call their partner(s). Those people are the people that you want to be friends with.

But the thing is, those people don’t need to have their horizons broadened or their assumptions challenged. They’re already onboard, okay? The people who we need to worry about, the people who need to, at the very least, be forced to acknowledge that a relationship that’s different than the marriage they have is still legally the same and deserving of equal protection under the law, those people care what it’s called. So making “marriage” an optional religious/social layer is just going to make it easy for those people to dismiss assumption-challenging relationships as “not real marriages”. And why should we do that?

And, further, if it “doesn’t matter what you call it” (which is one of the most common things I hear from people who claim to be ‘against marriage’), then why the hell not call it a marriage? If it doesn’t matter, if it’s defined by you & your partner(s), then it doesn’t matter. So it won’t make a difference to call it a marriage, will it? It’ll still be whatever you & your partner(s) make it.

For myself, I do think it matters what you call it– because we live in a society that attaches value to the institution of marriage. If the whole world was comprised of my friends, who don’t care, I’d feel differently. But it’s not. My parents, and coworkers, and aunts & uncles and etc etc etc are part of this society too, and I’m goddamned if I’m going to roll over and let them dismiss any committed relationship as somehow less because it’s not a marriage.

The institution needs to evolve, not be eliminated. And if you seriously cannot wrap your head around reclaiming a social institution and making it into something that’s more than its oppressive, exclusionary past, I have some questions for you. Do you own property? do you vote? are you a citizen? Think about how those institutions have evolved, and then come back and talk to me again.

Continuance

So, this morning I am slightly off as a result of imbibing a series of lovely cocktails last night with M. And yet, even though I have a headache, even though I have a huge paper to write, even though it’s not nice outside, even though the economy sucks and nothing is settled, I’m still happy.

It has been suggested (not entirely unreasonably) that my standards are low, and consequently I’m disproportionately pleased by the relatively unspectacular good things in my life. But I’m happy just the same. It seems kind of irritating and tempting-fate to say so, but sometimes I’m just so struck by it… that I’m happy, now, still, and don’t see any reason I shouldn’t continue to be so… that I want to take note.

Daylight

In just over a week, I will be done with Winter term. Shortly thereafter I will turn in my paperwork to graduate and start my final term of grad school. Sometime between June and September I will get a master’s degree (depending on when I am able to finish my internship hours).

I started on the path to this degree over four years ago. It is very odd to be able to see the end of it. Things are very much different than I imagined they would be when I started this road.

I still believe on the whole that I am happier. I know that I have learned a lot, not just about planning, but about myself as well. I’m sure that in the next months I will occasionally be amazed that I am approaching the end of this program, because it’s been such a focus for so long, and because last year school was the thing that could consistently remind me that I could function, was capable, could survive. And now I am nearly done. I’ve nearly done it. Wow.

Walk it off

I am jealous.
Okay, I said it.
I am jealous.

It is not a competition, it is not a race. Relationships are unique and not comparable, so there is no way to objectively rank them relative to each other.

But I am jealous.

And I don’t have a good reason. Because it’s senseless to be jealous that he… put up with her? That he introduced her to people that I have not yet met? Because he planned to introduce her to his parents? Because… he thought they could work out?

There is no reason to assume that this means anything about his relationship with me. In fact, there is reason to assume it does not. There are plans made, and in all likelihood I am merely being impatient.

Further, he has at least as much cause for jealousy over past partners as I, and possibly more. And I do know, can know, of my own knowledge, regardless of past experiences each relationship is special, this relationship is special. The past does not diminish the present. If anything, past experiences make it clear this is something valuable, something wonderful.

Again and again, this is something to walk off, get past, let go.

Paradoxical

I do not believe in fate. I believe that there is no inherently right way for my life to be, no one person who is ‘meant for me’. I believe no one can or should promise to do or be anything forever, and that anyone who does promise unconditionally that they will love you forever is naïve, shortsighted and unimaginative, or a liar (or all of the above). I know perfectly well that many of the reasons M & I work together are the result of lessons learned in past relationships, combined with the mellowing effects of time and age.

I believe all of these things are true.

And yet.

I want us to work because I’m special… not because we’re fated, but because we’re especially suitable. I don’t want to be in a bell curve, I want to be unique.

Gifted, more than earned

So, last night there was a small gathering at M’s place. The social part itself was enjoyable, so all’s well there.

However, M, in a slightly discombobulating flash of perceptiveness, directly called me on one of my most evasive and ingrained habits: ‘earning’ affection/social inclusion with ingratiation.

It’s a potentially unhealthy habit, something that starts out well-meaning and goes too far. Generosity is valued, but ingratiation is annoying, not to mention corrosive to the self-esteem and self-interest of the giver. Who is not, in fact, a giver, since the unspoken expectation is that the receiver will respond by bestowing favor in some way.

It’s sneaky and can create a horrible, soul-sucking morass of expectations and disappointments on both sides. It was absolutely a significant factor in the disintegration of my last relationship.

The thing for me, at least, is that I always start out meaning well– wanting to save someone trouble, or time, or whatever. And I’d like to think that the fact that if you’re important to someone I love then you’re important to me is a good thing, indicative of… I don’t know, generosity of affection, or something. But somehow things get fuzzy, and I often lose the ability to discern where the line is between ‘generous’ and ‘ingratiating’ before I’ve crossed over.

I’m glad M called me on this, I am… but I’m frustrated that I clearly still need keep tabs on myself, even after the time (and therapy!) I’ve put in. And I’m glad he’s perceptive enough to notice and say something. But I wish I could remember that affection is a gift, not a commodity. And I wish I could consistently and genuinely believe that it’s a gift I deserve, rather than something I need to earn.

Home, Divided

My furniture, my clothes, and my cat– all important factors in feeling ‘at home’–reside in one location. While I might wish for a few small changes in the layout of my apartment (mostly a separate bedroom), I do really love it– the white woodwork, the hardwood floors, the white tile and shower curtain in the bathroom, the comfortable tub.

My beloved lives 6 blocks away, in a house that I quite like in most respects (though the bathroom in my apartment is hands-down superior). The main floor, particularly the kitchen, feels nearly as at-home as my own apartment. What’s more, he is there.

I am at home and yet not at home in both places, missing something no matter where I am.

Sunday Entertaining

M & I had a slightly long day Sunday, starting with an early breakfast with my parents, followed by some errands. I made a half-hearted attempt to do some reading for school, and then gave it up in favor of cleaning in preparation for dinner guests. Once I’d cleared up a bit I remembered that we had a dozen (!) egg whites in the fridge, the remnants of the eggs that had gone into the eggnog M made up for a New Year’s Eve party. We made a double batch of Chocolate and Zucchini’s Violet Macaroons for Xmas, and a few more batches of those cookies were just the thing to use up eggwhites. We ended up with approximately 4 batches of macaroons, flavored with Nocino and sprinkled with black and red salt (rather than sugar). The black-salt cookies will be paired with a blue-cheese cream, and the red-salt will have caramel. Because the Xmas batch was significantly flatter than I would have liked—much more sandwich-cookie-like than the nicely domed macaroons in the photo— I fiddled with the proportions this time, adding more flour and cornmeal. The resulting cookies stand up better, but are also much denser cookies, which I am not quite sure I’m thrilled about. They’re good cookies, and they’ll be lovely dipped in the various cream toppings—I’m just not sure they’re good macaroons. I plan to mess about with the recipe more, and probably work out one variant that’s intended for sandwiching fillings and another that’s meant to stand alone.

Mike and Kalina arrived for pre-dinner cocktails at about six. Mike was kind enough to bring us a bottle of Bols Genever back from a recent trip to California, and M has been wanting to make flammenkuchen again, and test out Tailor’s version of the Blood & Sand cocktail (using kriek instead of cherry brandy). Having Mike & Kalina over gave us the opportunity to share dinner, experiment with the Bols Genever, and make Blood & Sands with the kriek they brought to share. We were also able to foist some of the (enormous pile of) macaroons on them!

We started with Bols shaken with lime and some other things I’ve forgotten, then M mixed a variant on a martinez using the Bols and Bitter Truth celery bitters, which I particularly loved. (But then, the martinez is one of my favorite drinks.) Blood & Sands were mixed next, and then we moved to wine and dinner. Flammenkuchen lends itself to standing about in the kitchen while you eat, cutting the pizzas and passing slices while you wait for the next one to come out of the oven. The flammenkuchen was even tastier this time than the previous occasion M made it, and the pleasant company and warmly delicious dinner (laden with bacon and gorgeous caramelized onions) made for a lovely evening.

It was an excellent weekend for many reasons (not the least of which was the arrival of Craig & Heather’s baby Sebastian, whose entry into the outside world I feel slightly bad about not discussing at length now). But Sunday was particularly wonderful, and it reminded me again how much I love entertaining guests with M. Hosting has always been a mildly fraught issue for me—I’ve always enjoyed it, but (in the past) it has frequently been somewhat stressful as well. M & I have hosted several gatherings together now, and entertaining with him has become one of my favorite things. We work together well, and I get a particularly warm glow from being hosting partners, as we move around the house tag-teaming chores and together in the kitchen prepping and cooking. It’s just gotten better over time, and I hope that we’ll be able to entertain guests together on many more occasions.

Doing it on all my own

When I was on the phone with my father the other day he mentioned to me that he had been “bragging on [me] a little” to a friend. Specifically, he was telling this friend about my graduate school progress and the fact that I am doing grad school “all on [my] own”. Now, this is sweet, and I’m glad my dad is proud of me. I’m especially glad that my dad is proud of me for this, because I worked hard to get into grad school and get this far into the program. And to some degree I am doing it on my own, in the sense that I am not getting money from my parents.

I also suspect that my dad was obliquely referencing the fact that I no longer have a partner to lean on for emotional support and assistance with household tasks– when I was married someone else could clean the bathroom or do the laundry, and now if I don’t do it it just doesn’t get done.

Learning to be self-reliant and single has been occasionally challenging for me. Not in terribly concrete ways– things like laundry and grocery shopping and bill-paying were done by me 98% of the time anyway, so once I got past the first panic that wasn’t so bad. But the emotional support– being ably to rely only on me– has been tough. When I was married, there was someone on my team, all the time. Or, at least, I felt like there was. Or, at least, that’s what I wanted to feel like. I’m not sure anymore how much of a team we were, and how much of that was illusory (at the time) or inaccurate memory (now).

From where I am now, in the aftermath of what was, to me, a sudden and unexpected divorce, I am hesitant to believe that I ever really had the partnership that I wanted. My ex must have been unhappy and probably resentful for a long time, and knowing that now changes my interpretation of our relationship. Now, looking back, I almost feel that I should qualify every good memory with “I thought we were happy then, but I could be wrong“. It’s unsettling.

I’m also not sure that I got a lot of emotional support from my ex when we were together. Particularly with regard to graduate school. He just didn’t care about my field, and he didn’t really make an effort to engage about it. I could talk to him about school, of course, and he would nod in the right places and sort of listen, but it just slid through his brain without leaving a mark. Anything that wasn’t important to him didn’t sink in, and he was (and as far as I know, still is) so very engaged in his own projects and creative aspirations and issues that very little else was a priority. Oh, certainly, sometimes he would try to make time for things, and sometimes he would even do so for a little while, but, honestly, he just never really engaged in much beyond his own interests.

In the end, that may have been the core issue being the split. He didn’t, and maybe couldn’t, be engaged. I wanted a partner, a teammate, who was involved in not only his life, but my life and our life together, and he just couldn’t be that. Not with me, maybe not at all. So, in the end, I may have lost the impression of a partner more than a partner in reality.

In fact, I am not doing this alone now any more than I was before. At worst, I have a more realistic assessment of what I have. And I have quite a bit. Some of it is new, and some of it has simply become more deeply appreciated in the last year.

I have wonderful, supportive friends, who make up the center of my chosen family. My related family has also been unexpectedly good about adjusting to the changes in the last year, and have been more readily-supportive than I was afraid they might be of the continued differences in my choices. I have new friends as well, who are funny and smart and listen to me talk about school. I have a relationship that is good and warm and easy to be part of, with someone who cares about what I am doing and independently makes efforts to be involved. I have a lot. I am, in fact, not alone. So in a way I am not doing grad school, or anything else, all on my own.

Not user-friendly

The OLCC’s website is not easy to navigate. I keep hearing that I ought to be able to do a product search there, rather than having to call all the liquor stores I can think of, but I can’t figure out where the search function is. This is frustrating. I know of at least two liquor stores that have what I want on order, and I have one friend in CA who I may be able to hit up to bring stuff back if I can’t find it… but in the meantime I’d like to know what my options are. Grr.