Here’s the link to Kate Torgovnik’s very thoughtful article about divorce parties in the New York Post’s Page Six Magazine called “Congratulations on Your Split!” I’m gulp, the closing anecdote.
Talk about timing! I love it.
(Image is from the mag)
marriage today
This morning the dude and I went to City Hall to get our marriage license. Elsewhere in weddingland:
California Gays Ditch Wedding Gifts For Donations
7/14/08
Reuters: A month after California began legally marrying same-sex partners, thousands of dollars that might have been spent on toasters or dinnerware for newlyweds have been donated to the campaign against the November referendum that seeks to define marriage in the state as only between a man and a woman.
Weddings Are Big Day for Extreme Dieting
7/13/08
Women’s eNews: Questing for the perfect body has become a norm in the world of wedding preparations as a multi-billion-dollar wedding industry peddles the perfection myth more intensely than ever before.
HA! Not moi. I so pigged out this weekend (last one before the wedding) and enjoyed every minute….
Nothing says “moving on” like the divorce collage.
Actually, these here doubled as housewarming projects. After having an awful experience (not a big surprise) with a Jewish divorce ceremony some years back, I decided to refill the frame that had held my marriage certificate or ketubah (left) with ad-hoc art work by my dearest friends. So I invited them over and we had a party.
That party will be part of a Page 6 story in this Sunday’s New York Post. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Because on Monday, Marco and I will be going down to City Hall to pick up our marriage license and officially change our names! We are becoming the Siegel-Acevedos. How’s that for a mouthful of fusion. I’m staying Siegel in print. Hey, do people still hyphenate these days, or has that already become outre? (Our thanks to the Wallace-Segalls for the inspiration…!)
And on Thursday, I will make my first ever visit to a modern Mikvah with a friend, which, from the pictures, looks more like a spa. Here’s to ritual new and old, tossed out and reclaimed and reinspired, updated and reinvented, I say.
That was a line my classmates at the University of Michigan used to throw around — though I think it went “Oh How I Hate Ohio State.” Not that I ever cared much about football (sorry Wolverines). But this just in from Nancy Polikoff is making me hate Ohio this morning indeed. Writes Nancy:
Ohio will vote on a paid sick leave initiative that doesn’t recognize unmarried partners, let alone the full range of people’s relationships. Given that there is an excellent model out there in the rules for federal employees right now and the proposed federal Healthy Families Act, it is not utopian to imagine something much better than what the Ohio folks are asking for.
Read more over at Nancy’s blog, Beyond Gay and Straight Marriage. And ok, Ohioans (Sam?!): defend yourselves.
This here’s a shot of my dude Marco eating our friend Daphne’s baby, Gabriel, while Gabriel tries to eat his own arm.
That’s Daph in the back, furiously trying to pack up and get back to the city, which is where we’re headed tomorrow morning too. Alas. It’s been wonderful communing with our wedding site out here in upstate NY! I feel like Speed Bride; we got so many wedding errands done that now I’m ready for a vacation 🙂
People keep asking me if I’m freaking out because our wedding is in 3 weeks. I have to say, I’m feeling pretty calm. Hotel still under construction? So we switched. Food at the restaurant we’d chosen for dinner the night before sucked? So we found a new one. I guess after living through the wrong marriage, planning for the right one feels pretty effortless, no matter the obstacles thrown into the course.
Maybe it’s the mambo. Marco and I had our class again last night and learned a few more tricks: the crossover, the walk around, and my personal favorite, the susy q.
I think we’re getting hooked. One thing’s for sure: we’re getting hitched. In 3 weeks.
Yikes?!
Before signing off for the weekend, I’m feeling compelled to share with you this sign I saw at Kleinfeld Bridal, where yesterday I went with my cousin Jen to hunt for a crinoline. The small print reads, “Thank you for your understanding; if we are delayed, it is because some of our brides need extra care and attention. Be assured when it is your turn, you will receive the same care and attention.”
Um, bridezilla much?
Some of those women there Freaked. Me. Out. Including the attendant who said “that’s your dress? and you’re the bride?”, pointing to the $200 blue number I bought at the bride’s maid store on 14th Street. If it weren’t for the utter coolness of Susan, the “attendant” who was assigned to me and who happened to be a Broadway costume designer moonlighting as a Kleinfeld’s outfitter, I think I would have run screaming. Instead, I stayed, and got tips from Susan and the ever-savvy Jen about what else women in the 1950s wore. And I left there loving my little blue number all the more.
This week I was interviewed for a Page 6 story (by a writer I trust!) on divorce parties. Yep, word has gotten out that I had me one of those, and you can soon, gulp, read about it in the New York Post a week from this Sunday. In the meantime, here’s an interesting post from Rebecca Honig Friedman over at Jewess about Jewish women writing their own get (the Jewish divorce certificate). That would have been a nice thing to do, seeing as how my Jewish divorce experience was far more painful than the civil one, just because of the way it’s traditionally set up. What saved me? Bringing Daphne to the “unceremony” with me. Daph sat by my side and reminded me it was just a role in an ancient play. But that whole get experience was what prompted me to reclaim the ritual by staging a little ritual of my own invention which…well, more bout that on Page 6!
Veteran lesbian activists Del Martin, 87, and Phyllis Lyon, 83, whose 2004 wedding in San Francisco was invalidated by the California Supreme Court, were the first same-sex couple to legally marry there yesterday at 5 p.m. County clerks across the state must begin issuing licenses to same-sex couples this morning.
This here is a rather gorgeous picture of my friend/colleague Susan Marine, Director of the Women’s Center at Harvard, with her wife Karen. Hear Susan read from a beautiful essay about her quest for the white dress on NPR. (Note: scroll forward to about the last third of the show to hear Susan’s essay.)
Kudos to Nancy Polikoff for her smart LA Times oped the other week! Nancy is the author of Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage: Valuing All Families under the Law, and a law professor at American University, and a scholar who calls for valuing contemporary families not as they “should” be but as they are. Here’s the lede graf (journo speak for the opening paragraph) of her oped:
It’s the 1968 revolution you never heard of. Forty years ago today, tucked in between the assassinations of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, a U.S. Supreme Court ruling repudiated centuries of settled law by granting constitutional recognition and protection to a previously outcast group: children born outside of marriage and their parents….
From a “making it PoP” perspective, I like her lede sentence. Very grabby. For the skinny, read the rest here.
This morning the dude and I went to City Hall to get our marriage license. Elsewhere in weddingland:
California Gays Ditch Wedding Gifts For Donations
7/14/08
Reuters: A month after California began legally marrying same-sex partners, thousands of dollars that might have been spent on toasters or dinnerware for newlyweds have been donated to the campaign against the November referendum that seeks to define marriage in the state as only between a man and a woman.
Weddings Are Big Day for Extreme Dieting
7/13/08
Women’s eNews: Questing for the perfect body has become a norm in the world of wedding preparations as a multi-billion-dollar wedding industry peddles the perfection myth more intensely than ever before.
HA! Not moi. I so pigged out this weekend (last one before the wedding) and enjoyed every minute….
Nothing says “moving on” like the divorce collage.
Actually, these here doubled as housewarming projects. After having an awful experience (not a big surprise) with a Jewish divorce ceremony some years back, I decided to refill the frame that had held my marriage certificate or ketubah (left) with ad-hoc art work by my dearest friends. So I invited them over and we had a party.
That party will be part of a Page 6 story in this Sunday’s New York Post. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Because on Monday, Marco and I will be going down to City Hall to pick up our marriage license and officially change our names! We are becoming the Siegel-Acevedos. How’s that for a mouthful of fusion. I’m staying Siegel in print. Hey, do people still hyphenate these days, or has that already become outre? (Our thanks to the Wallace-Segalls for the inspiration…!)
And on Thursday, I will make my first ever visit to a modern Mikvah with a friend, which, from the pictures, looks more like a spa. Here’s to ritual new and old, tossed out and reclaimed and reinspired, updated and reinvented, I say.
That was a line my classmates at the University of Michigan used to throw around — though I think it went “Oh How I Hate Ohio State.” Not that I ever cared much about football (sorry Wolverines). But this just in from Nancy Polikoff is making me hate Ohio this morning indeed. Writes Nancy:
Ohio will vote on a paid sick leave initiative that doesn’t recognize unmarried partners, let alone the full range of people’s relationships. Given that there is an excellent model out there in the rules for federal employees right now and the proposed federal Healthy Families Act, it is not utopian to imagine something much better than what the Ohio folks are asking for.
Read more over at Nancy’s blog, Beyond Gay and Straight Marriage. And ok, Ohioans (Sam?!): defend yourselves.
This here’s a shot of my dude Marco eating our friend Daphne’s baby, Gabriel, while Gabriel tries to eat his own arm.
That’s Daph in the back, furiously trying to pack up and get back to the city, which is where we’re headed tomorrow morning too. Alas. It’s been wonderful communing with our wedding site out here in upstate NY! I feel like Speed Bride; we got so many wedding errands done that now I’m ready for a vacation 🙂
People keep asking me if I’m freaking out because our wedding is in 3 weeks. I have to say, I’m feeling pretty calm. Hotel still under construction? So we switched. Food at the restaurant we’d chosen for dinner the night before sucked? So we found a new one. I guess after living through the wrong marriage, planning for the right one feels pretty effortless, no matter the obstacles thrown into the course.
Maybe it’s the mambo. Marco and I had our class again last night and learned a few more tricks: the crossover, the walk around, and my personal favorite, the susy q.
I think we’re getting hooked. One thing’s for sure: we’re getting hitched. In 3 weeks.
Yikes?!
Before signing off for the weekend, I’m feeling compelled to share with you this sign I saw at Kleinfeld Bridal, where yesterday I went with my cousin Jen to hunt for a crinoline. The small print reads, “Thank you for your understanding; if we are delayed, it is because some of our brides need extra care and attention. Be assured when it is your turn, you will receive the same care and attention.”
Um, bridezilla much?
Some of those women there Freaked. Me. Out. Including the attendant who said “that’s your dress? and you’re the bride?”, pointing to the $200 blue number I bought at the bride’s maid store on 14th Street. If it weren’t for the utter coolness of Susan, the “attendant” who was assigned to me and who happened to be a Broadway costume designer moonlighting as a Kleinfeld’s outfitter, I think I would have run screaming. Instead, I stayed, and got tips from Susan and the ever-savvy Jen about what else women in the 1950s wore. And I left there loving my little blue number all the more.
This week I was interviewed for a Page 6 story (by a writer I trust!) on divorce parties. Yep, word has gotten out that I had me one of those, and you can soon, gulp, read about it in the New York Post a week from this Sunday. In the meantime, here’s an interesting post from Rebecca Honig Friedman over at Jewess about Jewish women writing their own get (the Jewish divorce certificate). That would have been a nice thing to do, seeing as how my Jewish divorce experience was far more painful than the civil one, just because of the way it’s traditionally set up. What saved me? Bringing Daphne to the “unceremony” with me. Daph sat by my side and reminded me it was just a role in an ancient play. But that whole get experience was what prompted me to reclaim the ritual by staging a little ritual of my own invention which…well, more bout that on Page 6!
Veteran lesbian activists Del Martin, 87, and Phyllis Lyon, 83, whose 2004 wedding in San Francisco was invalidated by the California Supreme Court, were the first same-sex couple to legally marry there yesterday at 5 p.m. County clerks across the state must begin issuing licenses to same-sex couples this morning.
This here is a rather gorgeous picture of my friend/colleague Susan Marine, Director of the Women’s Center at Harvard, with her wife Karen. Hear Susan read from a beautiful essay about her quest for the white dress on NPR. (Note: scroll forward to about the last third of the show to hear Susan’s essay.)
Kudos to Nancy Polikoff for her smart LA Times oped the other week! Nancy is the author of Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage: Valuing All Families under the Law, and a law professor at American University, and a scholar who calls for valuing contemporary families not as they “should” be but as they are. Here’s the lede graf (journo speak for the opening paragraph) of her oped:
It’s the 1968 revolution you never heard of. Forty years ago today, tucked in between the assassinations of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, a U.S. Supreme Court ruling repudiated centuries of settled law by granting constitutional recognition and protection to a previously outcast group: children born outside of marriage and their parents….
From a “making it PoP” perspective, I like her lede sentence. Very grabby. For the skinny, read the rest here.
