a (little) longer story.

i kept finding it hard to start this post, mainly because i didn't know where to start, period. but now that i'm here, i think it's best for me to just keep the story simple. because really, if i wanted, i could type until i pass out from hunger and exhaustion about my ongoing ambivalence regarding the institution of marriage and the role it plays in our lives. plus, you've heard me blah-blah about most of all that here already! so the main question is, i think, what pushed jason and i past the brink of indecision and into a mindset where we decided that marriage was something we wanted to do?

well, about six months ago, as i pondered the topic for some reason or another, i found myself viewing it from kind of a different angle. i remained (and remain, unsurprisingly!) very uncomfortable with the cultural institution and all its attendant stereotypes, hegemonies, paradigms, etc etc and so on. but as a legal matter, i realized that i wasn't against marriage so much in principle as i was troubled by how tied up the legal side of marriage is with the cultural side. i realized that i would never begrudge anyone the ability to petition the government to recognize their relationship with another person as primary (in fact, i wish there were far fewer restrictions on who is allowed to make that request). i started seeing civil marriage as a service the government provides for you - like a birth certificate, or a social security card - that offers you certain protections. and i'm actually all for that! (except in the sense that all societal institutions, government or no, are generally corrosive things built and dependent on systems of domination and oppression buuuuuuut anyway that's another story. and a far more depressing and intractable one.) so once jason and i started talking about it in that light, it just made sense to take that step and get that legal recognition for ourselves. we certainly didn't want a wedding per se, and vegas is the perfect place to do a marriage with no fuss, no muss, and no waiting. plus, vegas is fun! there are free cocktails! and up until that point, jason and i had only ever taken one vacation that was just the two of us, and that was an overnight in iowa - it seemed high time for a more substantial getaway.

so there you have it - desire for legal recognition plus desire for a true twosome vacation equals eloping to vegas. we wanted to "make it legal." and we have. and we're happy.

the end. (again. for now.)

memetime.

i know i know i know. i promised more details on the whole eloping to vegas thing. and i will deliver them, i swear. but for now, there are only memes. because toast tagged me. so yes, blame him!

anyway. without further ado. meme-aliciousness.

1) Ten years ago I was...

living in my hometown in massachusetts, and just a few weeks away from graduating high school. putting the finishing touches on planning the prom (yes dudes i planned our senior prom, just one more thing you probably wouldn't have suspected about moi.) wearing jeans and henleys a lot. listening to fiona apple's "tidal" to help me fall asleep at night. signing yearbooks. writing poems. watching this ridiculous new show called dawson's creek. musing. complaining. deliberating. hoping. kicking the stalls for college to start.

2) Five things on today's to-do list:

1. go to the gym.
2. go to our friends' yard sale.
3. drink cheap beer at a penn ave bar.
4. pick up a package at the post office.
5. deposit two checks at the bank.

3) Things I'd do if I were a billionaire:

1. invest.
2. start up and run a foundation to fund programs that help women.
3. set up my family for life.
4. real estate! get a place in boston, nyc, the dominican republic, and dublin.
5. send jason into orbit as a space tourist.
   

4) Three bad habits:

1. a judgmental mindset.
2. frugality that can border on, um, cheapness.
3. a deep-seated weakness for salty food.

5) Five places I've lived:

1. my hometown.
2. amherst, ma.
3. boston, ma.
4. chicago, il.
5. washington, dc.

6) Six jobs I've had in my life:

1. GAP worker.
2. landscaper.
3. campus mailroom staff.
4. development associate.
5. grants and communications coordinator.
6. manager of foundation relations.

a short story.

so hey, get this.

jason and i eloped to vegas this weekend.

more later, most definitely, when my body clock is no longer spinning backwards and i can string a few coherent sentences together.

vegas is fun.

the end.

programming note

i've decided to quit using the Cat monikers here. i'm not really digging them anymore, in this new(ish) incarnation of the blog - i don't want to ditch the anonymity completely, but i also think that the Cat motif has pretty well run its course.

so:

• BoyCat's name is jason. you probably already knew that.
• CatCat's name is dottie. her namesake is dorothy parker, but we mostly call her dottie. unless she is being bad. then we tend to break out the four syllables...in high decibels. and sometimes, when i am in a strange mood, i decide to call her "dorrr-fie," in a sing-song voice, like 15 times in a row. ahem. anyway.

and as for the family:

• MomCat's name is...mom. she doesn't like it when i call her by her first name in life, so i won't do it here on the blog. you're welcome mom.
• DadCat's name is...dad. i'm just going to run with it.
• SisterCat's name is..."my sister." i might substitute "j." if i i'm feeling wild and crazy. or just can't make the two-world alternative fit in the damn sentence. i can - surprisingly, i know! - get finicky like that.

it's been fun, Cat pseudonyms. see you in the archives.

the edge.

there’s a perfume that i wore when i was 14 years old. you can still get it today. that particular scent – that smell – you can still buy it in a store.

i am actually wearing it right now.

***

during my freshman year of high school, we spent a few weeks learning archery. it was the fall semester. leisurely, low-slung afternoons in gym glass, out along the soccer fields behind the school, learning how to fit a bow into an arrow – how to aim – how to shoot.

no, maybe it was the spring.

i enjoyed archery. the first lesson taught the basic mechanics of the enterprise, which were so simple and so difficult all at once – to balance the tip of the arrow in the notch of the bow, to pull the surprisingly resistant string taut and load it for bear. but i got the hang of it. i stared down the length of the arrows to the fat canvas targets beyond – the red, yellow, and blue rings – and tried not to second guess my aim. or not to second guess it that much, because, of course, there are always adjustments to be made. and i could usually, at least, hit the thick wheel of foam and fabric, elicit the satisfying thud that meant a mark had been found. it felt good – good to do this, even absent any real reason why.

just hit the mark. just don’t miss.

the next day, i woke up in the morning to find a huge bruise on my right arm – a darkening, oblong welt the size of an oyster shell on the inside of my elbow. to the inside of the inside, really – next to the crook, just to the left of where the nurse stretches your skin to look for a vein, eases the needle in, pulls the blood clean out.

it had gotten in the way. the edge of my elbow, the edge of myself. and i had kept hitting it - again and again and again - without knowing.

while it was grotesque, i have to admit that i was proud of it, in a perverse kind of way. proud in that odd way that we can be about traumas – like they signify something bigger just by happening. something went wrong, but at least there was evidence that something had happened at all. undeniable – the marking of me, the mistake made tangible. i watched it turn purple, then fade into yellow and grey over days and weeks. i kept it out of the way of the arrow’s snap from then on, and eventually, it went away.

***

when i walked out of the store earlier today – after i had sprayed my wrists and the nape of my neck with a perfume i haven’t worn in fifteen years – i found myself thinking suddenly of those afternoons, of the sound of the arrows piercing the canvas, of the first startled moment of discovering that manifest consequence, that oval bruise. i thought about time, and how i can’t get a handle on the way it moves through me – its movement not just through years, and through space, but through flesh and bone. how? how does it do that?

it must have been spring.

a question.

at 6:30 am, a small band of religious pilgrims walked past my bedroom window. i know this because they were singing - a strange, unfamiliar version of Ave Maria. i separated the window blinds with two fingers and peered out, bleary-eyed. i saw a few dozen people, shuffling along down the street in rows of two or three. kids in backpacks. old ladies with walking sticks. men that looked like monks, in their robes and sandals and corded waist-ties. someone was carrying a vatican city flag. they walked south, towards the stadium, singing.

pilgrims. outside my apartment.

and i thought, "i wonder if the pope exercises."

the word.

well, ok.

so i just woke up from a nap. and this isn't the beginning of some obnoxiously metaphorical post, either - i literally just crawled off the couch after dozing for a few hours in front of the white sox game. it was a good nap. very relaxing.

and that is what i'm going for lately. relaxing. all this Getting Things Done and whatnot? wonderfully useful for a lot of people, but for me, right now? all i can think about when i hear the word "productivity" is.....eh. i need a fucking break from productivity, actually - i need a break from pushing myself. i need this breathing room. i need to keep working on learning how to cool it with the mental to-do lists and the worry and the anxiety and the self-propelled guilt trips.

(all right, who am i kidding, i'll never give up my mental to-do lists. but really - they need far fewer items.)

however, i have also learned over the past three months, i can really benefit from having this little outlet for putting down thoughts and opinions, for sorting it out, for connecting with people. i love how this blog has put me in touch with people that i never would have otherwise known, and how it makes me feel tapped into so many different streams and types of thought. i think that is an incredibly enriching thing. the trick, for me, is to learn how to enjoy that without feeling weirdly beholden to it - without again finding myself in a place where i'm posting because i feel like i "have to" - because really, that is some dumbass bullshit nonsense. right? right.

so, my plan is this: blog. when i want to.

(i wish i could fully explain why such a simple, self-evident idea proves to be such a challenge for me. but it would take hours of our lives that none of us could then get back, so i'm gonna refrain from even trying!)

if you've got rss, well, keep me on your feeds - i'll be popping up every now and again. if you don't, well - i hope you don't forget about me, because i'll be around. maybe once a week, maybe once a month, maybe three times in one day - i have no idea, and i'm doing my damnedest to learn to like it that way.