The Writing Desk of Jakebe Rabbit

Well, crap: The CA Supreme Court upholds Proposition 8. Really, that's about what it looked like, but after the recent rash of other states allowing equal marriage rights for gay people I began to hope that there was no way that California would let itself get shown up by *Iowa*.

Unfortunately, it did. A lot of people are calling the justices 'cowards,' railing about religion, expressing their frustration and disappointment in various ways. Very well. That all may be justified. The justices are probably thinking that they don't want the shit-storm that would come down on them from the right if they were to declare the proposition invalid. They may have thought the angle the prosecutors used to attack the measure was legally weak. The fervor the right has over the issue is illogical and mystifying. And the fact that so many people are willing to keep from rocking the boat over doing the right thing is disheartening.

Still, the fight's not over. After we've expressed our disappointment and frustration, what do we do? Do we march? Do we donate to the organizations that are fighting the good fight? Are we talking about it with our friends and neighbors? Are we educating people? Are we debating civilly with those people who disagree with us? What are *we* doing to fight for what we believe in beyond blogging about it?

I'll be the first to answer: not much, I'm ashamed to admit. I don't have much money to donate, I don't have much time to march and protest, I don't even know where to begin with joining a group. The "No on 8" people went about it the completely wrong way, I feel: they couldn't come up with an effective rebuttal to the lies being perpetuated by "Yes on 8," even though it was *really easy* to do.

Anyway, we'll have to figure it out. What's the next step to take after something like this? Our best hope, it would seem, lies with the legislature. They're a bit tied up with this whole budget crisis, though. Our next chance might be a little while down the road. I just hope that we're organized and motivated enough to take it.

toob proposed to me in the middle of Further Confusion 2007. We were with a couple of friends in their hotel room, and for various reasons I was in a contemplative mood. Sometimes I like to look back at past tragedies to see what bearing they have on the present, and this time I was finding a lot of connection. There were all of these half-forgotten memories that contained the seeds of my abandonment issues, or fear of saying stupid things, or opening up to my closest friends. Naturally, I had to tell people about all of it. This is a good reason to never invite me to your hotel room during a convention. You'd probably be thinking "Hey, let's pretend we're in that episode of CSI." I'd be like, "Great, we could re-enact our very own episode of Dawson's Creek."

Ryan, bless him, did the best possible thing after I had recited this litany of traumas. "I was going to wait to tell you this," he said, "but it sounds like you need this right now." And then he told me that he was going to ask me to marry him. It was exactly the thing I needed to lay all of that to rest. It never occurred to me that the reason I brought up these things time and time again was the hope that someone would know the right thing to say to help me move past it. I don't think Ryan knew, either, but he did, so I did. I didn't realize precisely why at the time, and I feel like I'm just able to get a grasp on it now.

Later that year, we went on a hike in Alum Rock State Park. Overlooking these endless green hills, with birds and mist and tiny little cars, we sat down on a bench and he produced two rings. Of course, I said yes. I don't remember much about the trip down, except that we saw flowers with the most amazing color and I couldn't stop smiling.

Our ceremony was nothing fancy. We rented the University's modest chapel, went through the vows in ten minutes and had a potluck reception afterwards. I had spent the last three weeks fretting about whether or not we'd have enough food and if people would be OK with cooking and how the layout would happen and everything, but it turns out I really didn't need to. The folks at Caer Carnivore and Zack took care of everything. Everyone else gave us more food than we could have imagined, and I think everyone was stuffed by the time they left. I can't thank everyone enough.

Now that there's a little distance from the experience itself, I've had some time to reflect on the experience, the whole concept of marriage, that sort of thing. I still have trouble organizing my thoughts about everything, but geez, I have to say something.

I've been in California for two years now, and during almost all of that time I worried about fitting in. There are so many incredible people here -- writers, artists, thinkers -- that it made me feel dull and slow. What on Earth could I offer these people? They're incredibly smart, funny, interesting people with full social calendars down to a man. Who was I to try and shoehorn myself into their lives? Everyone's been very friendly and warm, but I never feel like I have anything to contribute. Because of this, it's been difficult to see myself as a part of the community of friends here.

In displaying my love and commitment to Ryan in such a public and binding way, though, I found that love shouted back at me from places I had never realized it could be. And this, I realized, is another function of the marriage ceremony. It's not just an expression of a sacred vow between yourself and another (though that's the primary aim), it's also a reaffirmation of your place in your community, and a strengthen of the bonds you hold with everyone close to you. This is perhaps the first time in my life where I actually got it that people cared about me. I've had a lifetime of momentum with this whole outsider thing, but the wedding was an epiphany. I'm an accepted member of a community. Not only that, but I'm committed for life to someone that I've loved for seven years now.

There's a tremendous sense of confidence that comes from knowing who you are, and who has your back. It makes you much more patient, optimistic, adventurous. No matter what happens to me or Ryan, we both know the other is there for him. It's tremendous, such an impossibly great feeling. I'm trying hard not to brag, but really, it's just awesome. I had no idea you could be this happy all the time.

I have a husband(!), a ton of great friends all around the country (and all around the world!), and things just keep getting better. I'm going back to school, my brain is finally waking up from its long vacation, and I'm excited about things I don't know (instead of being afraid of them). Most of this because I got to say "I do." to the man I love. Amazing. :)

Thank you all for being with me through this incredible experience. Even if you couldn't make it, your e-mails and phone calls and IMs and everything, all of them, were very much appreciated. I'm so very lucky to know you guys!