When it Comes to Marriage, Love Beats Tradition

When it Comes to Marriage, Love Beats Tradition

I've been getting invited to more weddings lately. About a year ago, France legalized same-sex marriage. They didn't stop there - gay and lesbian couples now have the right to adopt children, too. That's something I'm profoundly grateful for. Oh, not because I'm gay or want to adopt a child, but because I'm not an asshole. Also, because I like to see my friends happy and endowed with equal rights. I like to see human beings treated as such and to see children who need homes and love being taken in by people who want to give them those things. While I think it's naive to believe that 'All You Need is Love,' I do still like to see love win. 'Traditional marriage' isn't real. It's not a thing. It's a phrase that usually represents outdated thinking and the meaning of it gets skewed in whatever way the speaker decides to twist it. Whenever someone tries to throw an argument at me about how traditional...
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The Joys of a Dysfunctional, Symbiotic Relationship

The Joys of a Dysfunctional, Symbiotic Relationship

“Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.” ― Robertson Davies “A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.” ― Ernest Hemingway “Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.” ― Robert A. Heinlein * * * "I think you might have a dysfunctional relationship with your cat," Olivier said as he watched the cat curl herself around the top of my head. "What? Crazy talk. Nonsense. We have a perfectly normal and healthy relationship." I nuzzled my face up against her whiskers. "I'm sure lots of people share their pillow with a cat every night." "Lots of weird cat people." "Careful. You're offending the cat." I suppose he could have a point. Me and Cat (yes, my cat's name is Cat) might have a dysfunctional relationship, but it's been functioning...
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Anniversary in Athens

Anniversary in Athens

Five years. Five years since I've worn a dress. Five years since I've had my feet in a shiny new pair of girl shoes, standing next to a crazy French man in a funky pinstriped suit with a pink ribbon in his hair. Five years since we stood there next to one another, in la mairie du 18éme arrondissement in Paris, listening to some very official-looking guy who rattled on in French. I barely spoke any French at all then, but it seems that very official-looking guy was jabbering on about wedding vows. I didn't really understand any of it, but apparently, we got married that day. I've read that the typical gift for a five-year anniversary is wood. Fucking wood? Sure, wooden things are nice, but, um... no thank you. Usually, on our anniversary, we'll go away for the weekend, or pick a really nice place for dinner because Olivier & I really dig a nice quiet atmosphere where we can be alone....
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Lebanese Cuisine: A Love Story

Lebanese Cuisine: A Love Story

"There is no love sincerer than the love of food."  -George Bernard Shaw * In the winter of 2004, I had the brilliant idea to take a trip to France.  I thought to myself, "Sure... this'll be great.  I'll go out there all alone.  I've been talking to that French guy on the Internet for the past few months... yeah, this is a good idea." Ok... so it was a little wacky.  But, my gut said that it was a good idea, even though my head was making fun of me constantly, using words like "careless" & "daft". But, hell... since when do cautious & rational have all of the fun? It was November.  The plan was set for me to spend 2 weeks in France during April of 2005. Fast forward to April in Paris. Skip ahead to me & him, in his apartment in Montmartre. "I rented a car," he said.  "I thought that next week, we'd...
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Leaving for Paris

Leaving for Paris

Four years ago, I was in the midst of disassembling my life in Colorado. This is the only way to build a new one. There in my apartment, which was rapidly becoming a large empty space, I stared at the packed boxes. There were more & more of them every day. There were times when the packing & planning was exhausting. It was easier to chain smoke in the dark with several pints of Guinness & a blank page while listening to Rufus Wainwright. Of course, one song that I played over & over again was "Leaving for Paris". httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djpWPhv1tPU&feature=PlayList&p=6FD35315AB3D3572&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1 It seemed so appropriate since that is exactly what I was doing. It had occurred to me that I might actually be out of my goddamn mind. Then again, this thought has crossed my mind several times throughout my life & has never really been a point of major concern. But... packing up my life to move to another country to marry a man who I...
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