The Democratic Party is set to officially incorporate a pro-gay marriage stance into its 2012 convention platform after a 15-member draft committee approved the new pro-marriage equality language over the weekend.
Much like the reaction to President Barack Obama’s recent (supposedly) conversion to pro-gay marriageness, reasonable people are saying: Hooray!
And also duh. And also about time.
The thing is, I don’t think you have to be a Democrat — or young — to appreciate the fact that civil rights for all people are a good thing. Maybe I’ve spent too much time reading Yo! Is This Racist? but I am both young and a Democrat and my patience wears ever thinner for people who can’t get with the fucking program on not being hate-mongering idiots. Keep reading »
You know how the worst kind of parent will be all, “Oh, you couldn’t possibly understand what it means to truly love another human being until you have a child of your own?” And you are all, Oh word, you’re right, I must be the emotionally crippled jerk here because I don’t go around conducting unsolicited evaluations of other people’s personal lives? And then you order another pitcher all to yourself just to rub in the fact that you and your emotionally stunted self are going to stay until bar closes just because you can?
Now that I am an old married lady, I think I understand that awful parent a little bit better, even though the Texas Alcohol and Beverage Commission still occasionally has to pry that pitcher of beer from my cold, drunk hands. Not because I’m aiming for a Lil’ Grimes any time soon or ever, but because I’m amazed at how different—and touchy, and protective—I feel about partnership now that I’m in a legal one. Keep reading »
In a couple of weeks, I’m going to be living it up in beautiful South Dakota. The occasion: my new grandma-in-law’s octogenarian birthday and combination family reunion. I hear there will be picnics and jet skis involved.
I am petrified.
But Andrea, how can you be petrified when there are jet skis involved, you ask? Well first off, I’m afraid of watercraft, so there’s that. But there’s also the fact that these jet skis belong to my new-in-law family, and what am I supposed to do around these perfectly nice, terrifying people for three whole days in beautiful rural South Dakota? Also, “beautiful rural South Dakota” is a few kinds of redundant, right? Keep reading »
What are you doing right now? Is it after noon? Actually, I don’t care if it is or not: go pour yourself a glass of something cold and boozy and join me in a toast to Katie Holmes, free woman.
I don’t much keep up with celebrity goings-on, certainly not beyond the two-month-old Us Weekly rags at the nail salon. I couldn’t pick Selena Gomez out of a line-up of young brunette actresses; I am unsure how many Kardashian family members there are. But Joey? From ”Dawson’s Creek”? We have a connection that cannot be broken; a connection forged when she sang that song from Les Mis on the show and I was all, Tell Dawson you love him, girl! Or was it Pacey? I didn’t watch very closely.
So perhaps my connection to Katie Holmes is tenuous. Fine. Still, I found myself actually excited when I heard she was divorcing Tom Cruise. And then I was even more excited when I read about how she went about it like a classy divorce-bomb-dropping spy bailing off the S.S. Fucking Weirdo — using a burner cellphone, having secret lawyers in three states on call, having her negotiation terms ready to roll. Keep reading »
The amazing thing about life is how many complete assholes manage to find someone willing to put up with their bullshit and marry them. When I was a single person, the thing that crushed me the most when I was feeling lonely wasn’t that I thought I’d never find a spouse. It was that Donald Trump did. Three times. Ben Roethlisberger? Totally married. Michele Bachmann! Married to another asshole. Michael Vick? Just spent $300,000 on his wedding this weekend. The “Real Housewives“? They are, by definition, married. I always wonder why self-help books and matchmaker shows bother shaming perfectly nice people into becoming “marriage material” when so many complete shits of human beings didn’t change a thing about themselves and still found love.
Of course, married assholes don’t have to be famous. They can be these assholes, who had a three-day wedding celebration that they made their guests cook and pay for. They could be this asshole, who dumped a bridesmaid because she was fat. Assholes get married all the time; sometimes because they were assholes before they got married. And sometimes the wedding process turns otherwise lovely people into assholes. The whole process is practically designed to do that to people. Keep reading »
I didn’t know how bad I was at being a wedding guest until I had my own wedding. I was bad about gifts and good about stiffing bartenders. Worst of all, I was terrible about crying on the dance floor when the DJ played “All The Single Ladies” because I was fresh off a breakup.
Don’t make these mistakes, friends! We’re in the midst of summer wedding season and you don’t want to just get in the hang of things after all ten thousand of your closest friends have tied the knot by September. That’s why I’m here to help you learn from my nuptial mishaps. Keep reading »
Last week’s Hitched column was all about the “myth of the happily married woman,” challenging the idea that marriage is some kind of natural state of being for women, who are biologically and culturally destined to need a man to complete their happiness.
Whether you believe in the Man Jesus or the Flying Spaghetti Monster, it is a cruel supreme being, indeed, who would create women to be destined for lovey-dovey hearts-and-rainbows partnership, and create ramblin’ men only to burp and drink beer and stick their penises in the closest convenient hole. Keep reading »
Wouldn’t you feel like shit, and wouldn’t I look like a jerk, if I sat around with this huge pile of adorable kittens and was all, “Oh man, my pile of adorable kittens is so great, I can’t get over how wonderful this pile of adorable kittens is, how can you not have a pile of adorable kittens like my awesome pile of adorable kittens and think you will ever be happy the way that I am with this pile of adorable kittens!?”
Because sure, kittens seem great and all, but maybe your landlord won’t let you have a cat, or you can’t afford one right now, or you are allergic and have to find a special hypoallergenic one or you don’t really want to scoop cat shit every day or maybe you are just more of a dog person. There are all kinds of reasons to not have a pile of adorable kittens, adorable as they may be.
Now, pretend we’re talking about marriage and single women instead of piles of adorable kittens. (But if you want, you can still check out some piles of kittens.) Keep reading »
Miley Cyrus, pop star and heir to the “Achy, Breaky Heart” fortune, has announced that, at 19 years old, she’s engaged to marry her boyfriend of three years, actor Liam Hemsworth. I have this to say: Don’t do it, girl!
And when I Googled “Liam Hemsworth” to find out who the hell this dude is, the first result was his official website, and the blurb excerpted is … an interview with Miley Cyrus. Friend, if you are 22-years-old and your professional career is already defined by your romantic relationship according to the seminal information provider of the whole internet, I feel obligated to pass along a ‘Don’t do it, girl!’ to you, too. (Jessica’s Note: He was also in “The Hunger Games.” I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of him!)
Now, I know that trying to dissuade smitten young people from making bad romantic decisions is an exercise in futility. Miley Cyrus is gonna marry this dude. It will happen. And maybe, just maybe, she will not be a twentysomething divorcee. Miley Cyrus, I hope you are not a twentysomething divorcee! I want your marriage to Liam Hemsworth to work out. I want you to be the happiest, most forever-married person in the world.
But if Miley Cyrus asked me — and she definitely did not — I would discourage her from getting married at 19. If any 19-year-old in the world asked me, I would discourage that person from getting married. Keep reading »
If you are currently in the process of planning an elaborate and public marriage proposal to your intended, please consider not doing that, not doing that even for a minute, and instead consider just stopping everything you had planned and not ever doing that, and even if you still want to do it a little bit, I beg you, don’t ever do it.
Elaborate public marriage proposals are rude and awkward. They’re presumptuous in the worst ways. They’re intrusive. They’re manipulative—and not just toward the proposer’s intended. Keep reading »