Back-Alley Bride

(This is the first post by TheNot guest-writer Skinny Bones Jones!!)

Recently, the California Supreme Court overturned a ban on gay marriage, and in a few short weeks gay and lesbian couples all over the US can lawfully wed one another in our beautiful golden state. A few weeks after that, we will see whether or not the conservative Christian right has collected enough signatures on petitions which would introduce an initiative on November’s ballot that could, once again, rip the foundation of equality from under us, like so many SF weddings undone in 2004.

In celebration, hope and as a testament to my amazing loverbird and our unprecedented love, I’ve written a funny little story about the time she proposed to me three years ago.

The Ernie K. Doe Factor

   Despite the teeny bit of mockery in my original Cake or Death post, let it be known: I love my mother-in-law. She is a lovely, sweet, big-hearted woman and did a wonderful job of raising the love of my life against many obstacles. HOWEVER, I am really, really morbidly fascinated with wicked mother-in-law stories. Love them. Eat them up with a spoon.

  If, like me, you love a good wicked witch tale, please check out this entry by Kadinsky over at Buttercup Punch. Also worth a once-over or two are the entries tagged My Mother-in-Law over at the Bewildered Housewife.

 

(This post, and any and all mother-in-law-related posts, will be dedicated to the late, great Ernie K. Doe. If you’re ever in New Orleans, please to visit the old stomping ground of the foremost Charity Hospital Baby: Ernie K. Doe’s Mother-in-Law Lounge.)

If any of you readers have crazy mother-in-law stories to share, they’re always welcome in the comments!

Hand in Glove

Welcome to my newest feature! I’ll be combing the Knot wedding profiles, online announcements, and magazines for people’s weddings to profile. But I can think of no better way to kick this puppy off than with a gallery of notable celebrity nuptuals:

Hand in glove

Culture Clash Wedding

   So far on this blog, I’ve just been taking the piss at tacky wedding shit. I don’t want to make this too much about my own wedding, because I’m just not that self-indulgent and I realize that the funny tacky shit is a helluva lot more interesting. However, there are some meaty and interesting issues with regards to my own relationship that are actually worth posting about.

(interracial LOLcats are hard to find, so settle for a tabby-calico mating and shut up.) 

 

   Mr. Panda and I are… Different. I’m a Southern, white, crazy Cajun and he’s a Korean-American Yankee. Neither one of us has a problem with it, obviously, but planning a wedding with so many different cultures and customs involved can be difficult. But, you know, I’m not about to post about this as if Mr. Panda and I are the only mixed couple from different backgrounds to ever get married in the history of the world EVAR, or anything like that. I know the gals over at Buttercup Punch will give me crap if I even tried to take myself too seriously about this topic, being that the two married Buttercups are they themselves in multi-culti marriages. (Which, I hope that they will come over here & post about sometime *hint*, *hint*)

   So yeah, I’ll avoid getting too deep and just tell y’all some stories. Pull up some rug, grab your blankies and your juice boxes, and I’ll get started:

 

The Garter Toss: Beauty no. 2

  

While certain wedding traditions have meaningful roots in religion and culture- the Italian chair dance, the breaking of the glass in Jewish ceremonies- the garter toss is simply a time-honored tradition in tackiness. Seriously, I don’t want anyone lifting up my goddamn skirt in goddamn public. There is a time and a place for cheeky sex-play, and the presence of my entire extended family and my husband’s family that I’ve only just met is clearly not it.

   So I’ve decided to dedicate this recurring column about tacky, ill-advised wedding trends and ideas to the infamous garter toss. After the jump, yuppies maxing out their self-indulgence allowance, and a head-scratching hipster homage:

Come with me, my love, to the sea, the sea of blogs.

   So, I feel like I cant start this blog without giving a nod to my humble wedding blog beginnings (“humble” as in, I’m humbled to be included in a group blog among such fantastic writers) over at Buttercup Punch. When I came aboard they told me I could write about whatever, so I penned a couple of posts about my wedding crap. The metallic taste of bridal blood was on my tongue and I wanted more.  Self-indulgent as it is, I’d really like to go a little more apeshit about my wedding planning than I feel comfortable doing over there.  So I started this little jewelbox of a wedding blog. I have every intention of still posting on Buttercup, but I thought narrowing the wedding focus could be a good thing. 

   I find temporary states of life to be pretty interesting subjects. Like pregnancy, you know, being a mother is forever, but being pregnant is a temporary state. I’ll be married (hopefully!) for the rest of my life, but the whole “bride” part is only for a little while. So, sucky and stressful brideliness makes for a great temp topic, like a travel journal or a captain’s log on a voyage or some Jules Verne-ish crap like that. So yeah, I’ll be Captain Emo aboard the Good Ship Nuptualus over here, whereas I can just be me minus the white dress over on Buttercup. Get it?

Anyway, a quick intro to my wedding blogging process thus far, so you can get a taste of my writing style and blah blah, peep my Buttercup entries:

A Night Without Flatware: Registry Woes

A Night Without Flatware II: The Revenge

 

Leave me love in the comments, and perhaps a giant squid or two.