Unpacking

Yes, you read the title right.  So does this mean that I am now living it up in the ATL? Nope.  You'll notice how long it's been since my last post when I confirmed that we were moving and moving quickly.  16 days.  Until Tuesday, we didn't even know things like Hubby's salary and benefits because the contract hadn't officially come.

If you'll remember two weeks ago, I said that we should have the official contract by the end of the week.  Well we didn't.  And no one could tells us why it hadn't come, but it'd be there by the end of the next week.  Rinse and repeat.  Turns out, like all good bureaucracies, there is only one person who is allowed to send out the contracts.  And that person? On vacation.

Anyways, Tuesday we got the contract.  Or rather Hubby's advisor got his.  Which is a start and allowed us to confirm what we already knew and commit fully to the move.  Only we didn't know exactly when the move would happen, or how we would get there, or where we would live.  You know, all the essential things you need to know for the move.

Today we confirmed when.  We'll be moving the second week of July.  Yes.  In a little under four weeks.  Nothings packed, no notices have been given, etc.  We know that the move will be paid for, but don't know if we'll be doing it ourselves, or if Hubby's new employers will move us.  Either way, it's time to clean house.

If you remember back a year ago, we went on a spree reducing our books, dvds, and video games.  Well, the dvds and games were sold on ebay, so there gone.  The books were sitting on the floor in what we call 'the other room'.  Meaning it's NEVER had a use.  Sure, it stores our router and printer, and the closet is overflowing with a ton of electronics, cables, and boxes that I don't even want to think about right now.  Also, by sitting? I mean spread out so that you could easily see every single book.

Notice I  used the past tense there? I finally boxed them up.  Today. Yes, today.  This weekend, they'll go to the local library, where they will be recycled, because no one will want to buy or even borrow them.  But at that point? Not my problem.  Also, the clothes that I mentioned had been sitting in a basket for two years? they were still there until today.  Along with a (I shit you not) ALMOST TWO CLOSETS' WORTH OF CLOTHES.  See, we knew that the move was coming so we did try to whittle down our clothes and get rid of things we didn't wear anymore.  We actually emptied one closet completely, and condensed down to 1 1/2 closets with virtually everything we own hung.  We also emptied out two drawers in our three dressers.  Considering I never got the keen fashion sense that was supposed to arrive in the mail when I got my 'Gay Card', there is NO REASON FOR ME TO OWN THIS MANY CLOTHES.

Anyways, I packed up all the clothes in trash bags to take to Goodwill this weekend.  TWELVE FRICKIN' TRASH BAGS. Are you kidding me? And yes, I went through it again, just to make sure.

When we first moved from to our current place, 4 years ago, we kept all the boxes.  Just in case we moved again, and would need to find boxes in a hurry.  Most of these are boxes that were shipped to the retail store I used to work at. Very beat up. But we kept them, because moving is expensive and I'm fine using crap boxes.  Although now we're either being moved, or being reimbursed. So I might as well get good boxes.  I also bought a grill when we moved here. And kept the box (full of trash) in the basement.  I was going to deal with it later.  Which was today.  Actually, I took an entire car's worth of boxes to the recycling drop off and got rid of them.

I feel very accomplished with my actions today.  I even contacted the landlady to terminate our lease.  Of course as of right now, that means that we're homeless at the end of July.

We now know when we will move, have a very good idea of how we will move, but still don't know where we will move to.  Considering that with our current time frame, they will not pay for us to house-hunt (not that Hubby can afford to take any days off of work before the move), we will probably be renting a house sight-unseen.  Fortunately, my parents are friends with a realtor in the DC region who is putting me in contact with some people in the Atlanta area.  And he knows the time frame we are looking at.  If possible, we might dip into savings for me to fly down and look at the top places we are considering.

And in case you were wondering, both animals are freaking the crap out.  They don't know what's happening.  Calvin at first thought it was fun, but he's now avoiding me, despite being offered treats.  Zoe just looks like she's about to die from misery.  And there's still a little under four weeks.

It's going to be an adventure.

It's Like Waiting For Christmas. Only Not.

Ok.  First off, I really need to stop having multiple posts in a row with similar titles.  Especially since I post infrequently. At best. End tangent (which began before the actual content.  Go me.)

I hope everyone had a good Chrismahannakwanzakah. (and new tangent: OH MY GOD!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY FOUND THAT VIDEO...I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR FOREVER).  I had a good one.  I got the tie clip I wanted.  Which made me a very happy panda.  And somewhat embarrassed that it was like getting the Red Rider bb gun you wanted, but never actually got.  Only it was a TIE CLIP.  But for me, the real celebration will come in February.

Back in May, I posted about my rash of symptoms from my sinus issues.  Then in September, I followed up by announcing that I was planning on going under the knife.  Then the whole thing became a nightmare. Like for real-real, not for play-play.

I visited the specialist on the first day my insurance through Hubby's university took effect for the year.  And I'd been told that it wouldn't be an issue.  And presumably it wouldn't have been.  It may still prove to not be one, but I'm not sure.  And it's six months later.  You see, the university takes insurance premiums out at the end of each month.  Starting in September.  Meaning that even though I'd been to the doctor in mid-August, it wouldn't be until the beginning of October before the insurance company would do anything.  Because my account wasn't paid.

This led to receiving multiple letters from the doctor's office demanding payment. Finally it was paid.  At the end of October.  And my doctor's balance went down by only $100 or so.  Because that little camera that was unceremoniously shoved up my nose for a whopping 35 seconds and used to determine the best course of action was classified by my insurance as surgery.  Which they don't cover.  They would if it had been officially ordered by my PCP, which he did.  But that was before the annual insurance switch-over.  I think.  It gets confusing.

Finally, the last week of October, I get the results from the letter of pre-determination that the doctor sent my insurance.  They would cover having my tonsils and adenoids removed, but not having the little doodads fixed (the only procedure that is so quick and basic that they don't even bother putting people under for) or having my septum fixed.  Because those are sinus surgery.  But having my adenoids out (which - at least for me - literally fill my sinuses) was covered.  I'm really not complaining.

I appealed in mid-November.  But they hadn't come to a determination by mid-December, which is the last time I talked to them.  After getting the first letter back from the insurance, I called the specialist to make an appointment.  I figured let's see how necessary he thought the two denied proceedures were (hence why I waited a while to file my appeal) and how much they would cost if I opted to just pay out of pocket.  He couldn't see me until the last week of November (this was late October).  A week before my appointment, the secretary called to inform me that the appointment had been rescheduled for mid-December.  I went in, the appointment lasted five-minutes, I was feeling good about what he had to say, and I walked out with an appointment scheduled for January 7.

I'm sure you're now thoroughly confused.  Because clearly if I'd been hack-and-slashed I'd have been bitching about it here. And on Facebook. And on Twitter. And and via any and every other form of communication I could think of.  I may have even brought the telegraph back out of retirement for that one.  Fortunately, (although extremely frustratingly) the doctor's office had an issue notifying my insurance about my scheduled surgery.  As in the insurance informed them that they had no record of me.  After a very long and confusing call to the insurance company, it was determined that the doctor was notifying the regular insurance, not the student insurance.  Despite what the very-nice-but-not-entirely-with-it secretary told me.  They also informed me that there was an issue with January surgery.  My insurance ended December 31.  Also? My insurance doesn't require advanced notification for surgery.

After calling every answering machine at the university insurance office, I finally managed to reach someone.  Actually the head of the department.  Because she is married to one of my former coworkers.  So I just called him.  Turns out, re-enrollment is automatic and there is no lapse in coverage.  BUT the insurance information isn't sent to the company until January 18.  The deadline for new enrollment.  And the first payment isn't until the end of the month.  Which would have led to the exact same issues with insurance I had back in August.  But at least then they had knowledge that I was covered by their insurance, just not paying my bill yet.

Long story short, I simply rescheduled the surgery and have gotten comfy on the spare bed.  But the countdown is on: 24 more days until surgery!!!!! Then a week or so for recovery, and I'll be able to breathe.

Oh, and all this shit just for surgery that is officially blocked for an hour of time.  But I've been told it probably wont even be 30 minutes.

And I realize that this post is kinda whiny and no one really cares and is sick of hearing about my sinus issues.  But this is my blog, and I pay for the domain.  So when you're in my domain, you do as I say.  Ok.  Maybe I need to take a nap.  Stupid not-getting-restful-sleep-for-24-more-days.

Oh, and for the record: my New Year's resolutions? To post on here more frequently.  Fail.

I Don't Know How I Feel About That

Working as a substitute teacher in multiple school districts has been an eye-opening experience.  Not only do expectations differ drastically from district to district, but even two schools in the same district have expectations that are dissonant.  Some days I walk in with a detailed lesson plan for a subject I do not know, and I'm expected to teach it.  Sometimes, even the administration can't find the teacher's lesson plan (that was turned in to the office).  Most of the time, I'm given everything I need to figure it out as I go.  And it's always enjoyable - even when it seems like being swallowed by the earth would be better.  Suck it, large unnamed retail store that formerly used a smiley!

I also get to have interesting experiences that a 'normal' teacher doesn't get to experience.  Last Friday? I was a secretary in the guidance office for the day.  Did you know that 'permanent records' are not just an idle threat? I got to put this year's school pictures with the files.  Kinda cool.  Also makes me kinda want to torch my high school in order to destroy them.  Then I remember that I was a goodie-two-shoes in high school.  So I guess the school can live to see another day.  You got lucky this time.

Today? I was a librarian.  Like for real.  My title was 'secondary librarian'.  Turns out the person that I thought was the main librarian? My secretary.  Yes.  I had a secretary.  And at least 3 student aides each period.  I crap you not.  It was BADASS.  Except there was one issue that I had.

Ever since the string of suicides by gay teens, schools have been cracking down on bullying.  In all forms.  And the mentality of "boys will be boys" does not seem to be acceptable by administration any longer.  I had a coteacher one day who stopped the class and went on a diatribe about how to treat other people after hearing a student tell another to 'shut up'.  I was impressed.  And glad that she showed up after I told the entire class to do the same.

Anyways, back to today.  The school library had a very good selection of books on sexuality, sexual orientations, and the like.  They also had a book called "Pornography".  The pictures were not.  I was kinda disappointed, and I'm not sure why.  Anyways, all of these books, along with books on the occult (yes, really) mental health, rape, abuse, etc. books were behind the circulation desks in the 'reserved' section.  The extremely popular books, such as Twilight and Harry Potter were also in the reserved section to keep track of them.  There are no restrictions on checking them out, so I asked why the resource books are back there.

Turns out, it's because students would find them in the regular stacks and would get disruptive.  So any books that have questionable titles or content that could prove disruptive (such as 'Pornography', 'Rape', and 'Abortion') were put behind the desk.  Any student has access to them as long as they ask the librarian to look at them.  I understand why virtually all of these titles were located where they were.  Except for one issue.  And you may have figured it out already.

A student who is questioning his or her sexual orientation, and looking for resources to help them is not going to feel comfortable asking the librarian to look at the gay resources section.  Of course, to be fair, teenagers don't use books anymore, thanks to my first true love.  The Internet.  You'll always be first.  And I'll try to be faithful and never commit letters onto paper.  It just makes me feel dirty.

Ok...I think I lost the serious point somewhere along the way, but isn't the point of having resources available for students is for them to feel comfortable using them?  If you are questioning (and obviously deep in the closet) you are not going to ask the librarian.  You'll walk past it on the shelf like 14 times, then pick it up, flip through really quick, and put it back before anyone notices.  Then get the courage to sneak it up to the desk to check it out.  By placing it between two more 'appropriate' books.  And hope the librarian doesn't look at the book titles.

Not like I've ever done that.

On The Bandwagon

There has been a rash of suicides among teens over the sexuality recently.  These children were bullied and harassed by their peers - often only about their perceived sexuality.  If you don't know about these suicides, I'm shocked.  Stop here and go to a news site and catch up.  I'll wait. Many bloggers and celebrities have come out and blasted the parents of the bullies, and the bullies themselves.  I've decided that I need to put my two cents in.

The parents of the bullies and conservative pundits have defended the bullies blindly.  After all, aren't they just being kids.  That's what kids do? Right? They bully.

Unfortunately, yes they do.  I know I've done my fair share of smack-talk.  However, over the years, I've learned that it either comes back to bite me in the ass or I feel like crap about it - sometimes long after the other person has gotten over it and moved on. The Bloggess wrote a really good piece on this here.

As everyone knows, kids can be cruel.  It's not that they're evil, its just that they haven't quite figured out what is and isn't appropriate to say, and why.  They also like to test their boundaries.  They like to see how far they can go, and what a person's reaction will be.  And where do they do this the most? In schools.

To be completely honest, I haven't followed a lot of the online mud-fight.  However, I will go out on a limb and place a fair bit of the blame on teachers.  Its easy as an educator to jump in and stop physical bullying or profane language.  It takes a little more strength to stop someone when you hear "gay" or "fag".  In fact, I once wrote a paper based on the findings of SafeSchoolsNC, a North Carolina based organization, whose intention is to eliminate harassment and bullying in all forms in public schools in North Carolina.  The findings of their research is clear:  in the 30 days prior to being interviewed, 7% of heterosexual students reported being threatened with a weapon in school.  During that same period, 33% of homosexual students were threatened.  In addition, in schools that did not have a school policy that included sexual orientation, 53% of students frequently heard words such as "faggot", "dyke", or "queer", and teachers intervened frequently only 6.6% of the time.  The report, published in 2006, can be found here. (pdf, 25 pages)

Unfortunately, I place possibly most of the blame on the parents of the victims.  I'm sure they do to.  I am very sorry for their loss, and cannot comprehend what it would be like to lose your child.  However, I'm not sure if any of them had ever had a conversation with their children about how a parent's love is unconditional.  And tell them that whoever said "words can never hurt me" is full of shit, but life gets better.  Struggling with sexuality is something I've gone through.  It took me through most of high school to admit (only to myself) that I might just possibly be a scosche bisexual.  But not gay.  Even though I'm only really attracted to guys. But if I'm bisexual, then I can still be normal, right?

EDIT: I don't blame the parents for the bullying of their children.  I blame the parents for the fact that their children thought that they would not be loved and that the only way to make the pain end was to to take their own lives.

Grappling with my sexual orientation, coupled with a very mild, but untreated form of bipolar, I was extremely depressed for much of my young life.  I was constantly thinking suicidal thoughts.  Fortunately, I was too big of a coward to ever seriously act on it.

The summer after I graduated from high school, I traveled to Europe with a touring marching band.  I became friends with several openly gay and bisexual members.  They were the first people I ever told.  Of course, I told them that I was bisexual, but it was a start.  I finally began to understand who i was as a person.  When I came back, I quickly came out to most of my friends.  Including the very wonderful Domesticated Goddess, who I happened to be actually dating at the time.  I'm not sure if she understands how much I really do value her friendship after all these years.  I had finally come to terms with who I was, and it made me feel so free.

Parents: talk to your kids.  The earlier, the better.  Make sure they know that your love is unwavering, that no matter what, you'll be there for them.  Make sure that they know that treating other people differently is wrong, and help them develop the confidence to speak out against any injustice.


Readers still in high school (hey, I may have them!!): Try to make friends with the 'different' kid.  I'm not saying do it, but at least try.  Trust me, you meet some of the most amazing (and 'interesting') people in life just by being friendly.


Teachers: make sure that bullying of any sort does not happen on your watch.  This could be in your classroom, the hallways, whatever.  Take a stand, and refuse to allow that behavior, attitude, or language in your classroom.

There is no reason why a young person in this country should feel so ashamed of who they are that they feel the need to take their own life.  Shame on everyone one of us Americans who have let our society be shaped this way.

I apologize if this is poorly written, but I've made myself cry, it's 2am, and my editor will NOT get out of bed to proofread.  I've checked.

The Bureaucratic Nightmare That Is My Life

As most of my readers know, I've had to put on hold my dreams and ambitions for now and suck it up and return to the wonderful world of retail.  With two college degrees.  I don't blame Hubby at all.  Ok, well maybe a little, but it's really not his fault. And I know that.  Rationally.

The real blame can be directed at the professor at my college who oversaw my student teaching.  During that period, I reported directly to two people: my cooperating teacher, with whom I had to get approval for all lesson plans and he pretty much shaped me into the teacher that I will become when I have a classroom of my own,  and my university supervisor.  His role was essentially to observe me (and grade my teaching ability) and make me jump through a million pointless hoops just because he could.  Which for the record is exactly what good teachers are not supposed to do.  My cooperating teacher taught me that. 

My university supervisor - from now on US - would also schedule the 'random' visits.  Not that I did anything differently, but if I was a mediocre teacher, I would have only pulled out the big guns when he was there.  He also would randomly walk into my classroom, turn around and walk out IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS.  And I would have to run out of the room to figure out what the hell was going on, only to find out HE'D GONE INTO THE WRONG ROOM, WALKED ACCROSS THE FRONT OF THE CLASSROOM AND THEN NOTICED.  You can tell I think highly of him.  In fact, I'm not going to call him US, I'll just call him douche-waffle.

You may ask why I am writing about my student teaching in September when I graduated in May.  Well, I'm getting to that.  You see, I applied to a few school districts for a teaching position this year, but didn't hear back from any of them.  Then I went to apply for substitute teaching positions.  And reading the application a little closer than I had done in the past, I discovered at least one reason why: Since I do not have any teaching experience, they want to see a letter of recommendation from my cooperating teacher (who wrote me a very glowing one), and another from douche-waffle.

I emailed him shortly after graduation to get one.  When he didn't respond, I called him.  He said he hadn't been checking his email recently, but he'd get right on it, and send it out promptly.  This was in May. I got busy, and distracted, and never noticed that it hadn't appeared in the mail.  That part, I'll admit is Hubby's fault.  He didn't remind me.  Notice I'm not at fault.  Ever.

Anyways, in the middle of August, I picked up the application for substituting and suddenly remembered that I didn't have the letter.  I sent douche-waffle a very polite email requesting it, as well as a confirmation (via email or telephone) that he had received my email.  I don't think that's asking too much.  Then I got started back in retail, and I got busy.  I waited two weeks with no response, so I fired off another email - less polite than the first, but still very cordial.  This time explicitly insisting that I wanted confirmation of receipt.  Again, no response from douche-waffle. 

So last night, finally completely fed up - school was now back in session, there was no reason he hadn't returned my emails - I fired off a fourth email (I know that doesn't add up, but douche-waffle wanted me to send him an email with my mailing address, even though I had already done, when I talked to him in May). This email was still mostly cordial, but it was also incredibly passive aggressive.  Hubby was mildly horrified that I was sending an email like that to someone who potentially held my future in his hands, but whatever.  Finally, this morning I called him.  Actually, I called several faculty members before I found his number, because everywhere that it was listed online was different and they were all wrong.

Douche-waffle did not seem surprised to hear from me.  In fact, he excitedly told me that he was about half finished and was hoping to get it out in the mail tomorrow.  He's been working on it since May.  He even said so.  As soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Hubby.  When he picked up, I gave him a heart-attack by letting loose a ton of primal noises and yells, as well as quite a few words of a less-than-professional nature.

The man who holds my future in my hands has been working on my letter of recommendation since May, when I originally asked for it.  He never responded to any email where I requested a response. AND HE'S ONLY HALF-FINISHED.  He's essentially had an entire semester, and has done only half of the work.  That's a 50%, which is an 'F'.  Unless you go where I went.  They think that 'F's are demoralizing.  So they give 'E's.

Oh, and yes, I am aware that this is my second post this week, making it the third post this month!  Now I just need five more to equal June!  Whatever, just give me an 'E' for effort and move on.

My Life in Trash

I have some clear hoarding traits.  Its not too bad, but I do have trouble throwing things away.  And I like to hold on to things well past any sensible length of time.  Hubby is an enabler.  As long as I can find a way from keeping it from looking too disaster-movie, he allows it.  Its actually quite surprising that he is not a hoarder. 

There are entire rooms that are virtually inaccessible in his parents' house.  And its because of things like videogame boxes and manuals and strategy guides from ten-year old games.  Not to mention the seven pairs of cargo pants that hubby's mother tried to give me when I mentioned that I wanted more casual dress pants to wear when teaching.  I tried to politely decline, as cargo pants are not, by any definition, casual dress pants.  "Oh, but these are very nice cargo pants".  NO SUCH THING.  I managed to talk her out of those.  Unfortunately, I couldn't talk her out of the several pairs of jeans she gave me.  Which had been pressed and folded as if they were dress pants.  Jeans should not have creases.  The jeans are still sitting in a bag on the floor of the bedroom, where they have been since I got them about a year ago.  Long story short, I know you read this blog, hubby's bro.  Go all "Hoarders" on your parents.  But start with your stuff.  Because your mother will have a meltdown.  Like Chernobyl. 

Regardless, this post is not about them.  It is about me.  Aren't all things?  I hoard books, dvds, and video games.  And empty pill bottles.  I think everyone does that.  Except I go throught like two vials a month.  And I never throw them out.  Just in case.  Although I've yet to find an occurance when I needed one let alone twenty.

Job Posting: Navigator Wanted

So we just came back from our whirlwind tour of Virginia.  And if my lack of sense of direction is any indication, most of Maryland.  We had a great time at Hubby's parents - except for the one time we sat downstairs with them and tried to be social.  Awkward silences abounded.  It was bad.  The only true downer of the entire trip was when he got the call that he wasn't getting the job that had been all but given to him already.  Which needless to say has left us completely direction-less.  BUT, we've found the silver-lining. Considering I'm the glass-half-empty type, that's always a very good thing.

We have a few ideas, and he hasn't even had a chance to talk to anyone important.  I'll keep you guessing as to the locations, but I will say that I have already vetoed (repeatedly and emphatically) the one in Boise, Idaho.  I'll post more if and when hubby's job hunt becomes fruitful.

On the other hand, I will be applying to a couple of school districts around my parents (there are absolutely no teaching jobs to be had in Central PA).  Depending on the outcome of that, I may be paying rent to my parents and commuting back to PA on weekends. THIS ENDS THE PART OF THE POST ON THIS.

BIG NEWS.  Hubby and I did apply for a marriage license in DC.  The woman was extremely friendly and congratulatory.  The gentleman at the clerk's office was less helpful, but for reasons that will be explained.

We got to my parents around 11:30am, dropped off our stuff (including our new-to-us broken $2,000 computer that just needs a new video card)  We hopped on the Metro and rode into the city.  I made hubby run at Metro Center because I thought the train was there.  It wasn't.  He was mad.  To say the least.  We then went to Union Station and had lunch, which I don't think I've done since High School.  Then, we decided to walk to the courthouse.  Because it was a super-simple and straightforward walk from Union Station.  I know because I checked Google Maps.  Two weeks ago.  We started off by following a sign for the courthouse.  Which went the wrong way.  We realized we went the wrong way when we hit Chinatown.  Of course we didn't know how far we were off by, so we just walked a block south, then a block west, and repeated.  Then we walked right past the courthouse with me commenting that it was a neat building and wondered what it was.  In my defense, we were still a block north of it, and we'd seen another sign for Judiciary Square.  Finally we got there.  Hubby claims to be planning to write a similar post on his blog where he routes our map.  If he ever does, I'll link to his post.  I'm not doing the busywork, screw that.

I don't know what I expected, but the DC Courthouse definitely wasn't it.  On the way to the Marriage Bureau, which was on the top floor tucked into the VERY back corner of the courthouse down a very narrow hallway - past Paternity Court, several courtrooms, and the mental retardation center.  To describe narrow, we had to squeeze past a cute elderly lesbian couple leaving the marriage bureau as we walked in.  We signed in and waited like 15 minutes before they sat us down and went over everything.  Like I said, the women was extremely friendly and was all-smiles, even when politely helping us fill out the sections I had left blank.  I don't remember her name, but if there is EVER a person who epitomizes the ideal civil servant, it was she.

She handed us a printout, and told us to follow the signs for the Family Court Financial Center.  These were inkjet signs with Word-Art.  A hand-drawn one would have looked more professional. Whatever, I was happy with having accomplished my goal.  Now hubby just needed to pay.  The entire trip, I'd reminded him that he was responsible for the $45 cash that was needed.  As late as while we were sitting in the marriage bureau, he insisted that he had the money.  When we found where we were going (no thanks to the sign that pointed straight forward into a T-intersection) the gentleman, who was mildly irate because we had interrupted his cellphone call, asked for the $45.  I looked at hubby.  He had a blank and bewildered look on his face.  So I politely told him to pay the man.  He told me he only had $27 dollars.  I had $13.  So we had to leave the courthouse and find an ATM.  Then come back.  And finally pay the bill.

Mission accomplished.  With a few minor mis-steps.  I find out the date of our wedding for sure on Monday.  I'll let people know.  And I've decided after asking for input (and getting it) on my last post that I don't really care what you think.  As long as you read.  And leave comments.

But We Did That Already. Right?

I've been in a committed relationship with FertKiki for over seven years now.  That's like 21 typical gay relationships.  At least.  Four years ago, we had a (not-legally-binding) wedding ceremony down at Virginia Tech by the pastor of a pretty United Church of Christ in Blacksburg.  Interesting side-note: last I heard, she has resigned as the pastor of that church, and I heard a rumor that she was to be a pastor at the UCC church in Washington DC that the Obama family attends occasionally.  However, I cannot find any proof of that.  Maybe my source is a loyal reader, and will be kind enough to let me know!

So for four years, I've referred to FertKiki as my husband.  On top of that, we participated in a commitment ceremony On Penn State's campus officiated by the recently deceased State College mayor, one of the most friendly and passionate people that I've ever had the pleasure of working with.  That was just over two years ago.  Just don't ask me when.  I got our dating anniversary still, our wedding anniversary, and finally his birthday.  But I don't know the date of our second ceremony.

Why the hell am I bringing this up, you ask?  Because I'm thinking about popping the question again.  Well technically, I alluded to it on the phone with him about an hour ago.  We've talked a lot about getting a legal wedding for quite a while, but haven't felt particularly motivated, especially since Pennsyltucky is a state with a DOMA statute.  But now we're moving. Most likely.  Maybe.  Hopefully.  FertKiki had his interview(s) today in New Mexico, and he should hear back in about a week.  Via telephone.  While he is at a conference in Europe.  And can't use his cell phone.  I just KNEW a situation like this would come up five years ago when we were trying to decide between ATT and Verizon.

New Mexico is a unique state in the gay marriage front.  They have not passed a law either banning or allowing same-sex marriage.  And their constitution uses the same obliquely-worded passages as the ones struck down in California, Iowa, and Massachusetts had (along with others).  And, the state courts have never ruled on the issue (unlike the three above).  However, unlike New York (which until this point was identical) the courts have not ruled on the issue of out-of-state same-sex marriages (I never get to use the hyphen this much).  In fact, New Mexico was one of the states back in 2004 in which some marriage licenses were issued to same-sex couples (as was also done in California, New York, and Washington).  However, it is the only state that did not then have all licenses annulled.

They don't seem particularly eager to push the issue either way.  In 2008, a bill was killed in the Senate that would have legalized same-sex marriages in New Mexico (after being passed in the House).  No later attempt has been made.  The last year an attempt to outlaw same-sex marriage made serious progress was in 2005.

Why don't I just wait until it becomes clear?  For starters, because I'm sick of waiting.  I've always hated the comparison between the Gay Civil Rights Movement and the Black Civil Rights Movement, but one of the most powerful things that I have ever read is Letter From a Birmingham Jail, written by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  It makes me cry every time I read it.  And tear up thinking about it.  And now that I've looked it up, I'm crying like a baby.

"Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging dark of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; ... then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair." FULL TEXT

I'm not saying that I have had to experience ANYTHING akin to that in my lifetime.  But when all I want is hospital visitation rights, legal power of attorney, and most importantly inheritance rights.  I don't think I'm being greedy. Or that I'm asking too much.

For the record, there is a less-than-altruistic desire as well.  The company that might be offering FertKiki a job will pay to relocate both of us, but will only fly out him and his legal spouse to job hunt.  $45 bucks and a week at my parents versus round trip airfare and meals.  Easy choice.  Don't judge me.

BTW, if nuptials are forthcoming, I'll eventually post information.  It'll take a while to come to a decision either way.  And I even think I may have to hire a lawyer to do so.  Yuck.  All lawyers are evil.  Except for all the ones that read this.  They are some of the best people in the whole world.  If you can give me any advice on New Mexico tax law, call me!

EDIT: I go off the deep end a little when I'm stuck with only my own thoughts for an extended period of time.  I've only been unattended for two days.  Imagine what next week will be like.  I'll be alone for a whole week.

Lessons Learned

My unemployment is beginning to become extremely expensive.  When I quit working in hell (aka you friendly neighborhood mega-mart), we budgeted that we could make it through June without any problems.  And we have been doing much better than we budgeted.  Until tax time.  Don't get me wrong, my tax return was amazing.  I was eligible for some deduction since I was 25 or older and still a full time student.  Like crazy amount of money deduction.  This is the third time I'd filed taxes since I turned 25.  And I've been a full time student every time.  WHY DIDN'T I GET IT THE OTHER TIMES?!?!

That said, I spent the money right away between my pretty pretty laptop, and FertKiki's stand mixer.  There went that tax return.

And I can hear what you are asking.  Why write about this at the end of May, when taxes were due mid-April, and both items were purchased a month ago?  Because that was the beginning of my downfall.  I proceeded to buy Rock Band (because I'm bored), eat out more (because I'm bored) and go out at night with friends (because I'm bored).  Budget-wise, we will still make it through June - and maybe even July.  Like I said, we'd been doing really well with our budget (a first for me).  Then the money runs out.

I'm still holding out to see if I can get an education-related job for the summer to pad my resume because I care about the children.  But I still need one last clearance to come back from the state.  If that fails?  Back to Hell, if need be.  Although if we'll be moving to New Mexico in December/January, I'm going to need to travel all over the place to see people.  Which requires time off from work.  But also requires money.

FertKiki flies down in a few days for his lengthy series of interviews.  For all I know, my future may become a lot more concrete by this time next week.  Here's hoping.

For the record, I've also become obsessed with Wife Swap and Desperate Housewives on Lifetime.  I need to get out of the house more GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!!