It is SO ordered. 

No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right. The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit is reversed.

It is so ordered.

My Static Texts Are Hysterical

[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:32 AM] Otter: LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:32 AM] Otter: YOU’RE TEARING THIS FAMILY APART
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Well maybe if you cleaned up once in a while…
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Otter: :O
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Put on a dress. Prettied yourself up.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Maybe I’d take you out. We’d leave the kids with Aunty Ryio and have a night out.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: But no. You’re always wearing that frumpy smock.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: It’s comfy
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: It’s coveted in bacon fat
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: You remind me of your mother.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: It’s comfy and smells of bacon
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: What’s not to like
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: Frumpy!
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: You’re not the woman I married.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: We’re not even married!
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Wait
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Was I drunk?
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Ryio: Who wants to play cribbage? (That’s what auntys do right?)
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: WHAT HAS BECOME OF US CHISTOS.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Did we get married by Elvis?
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: He was a nice man
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: I’m sure he was lovely.

An Ode to my Bicycle, part the second.

Fuck you you fucking piece of fuck.

I’ve ridden you in the rain. It’s getting warm and I get to work so drenched in sweat I might as well just jump in a sprinkler on that last turn before work.

My thighs hurt like hell.

I hate everything and everyone. I hate the assholes who honk at me like I can move any closer to the curb. I hate the idiots that I wave past me cause I’M ON A GODDAMED BIKE YOU MORON, MAKE YOUR TURN. I like the bus driver who waves at me and keeps the STOP sign up a little longer so I can get around the bus easier. I hate everyone at work who comments on how ‘strong’ I am, how ‘dedicated’ I’m being.

No, fuck everyone and everything.

I hate this contraption.


At least in 25 more days, I get to hope I can get my fiancee/husband to run with me or else I’ll get lost in the Canadian wilds and get eaten by a moose.

Fucking joy.

I cannot wait to cut you in half, you piece of shit.


An Ode to my Bicycle.

You are a rusty piece of shit, old friend.

I too, am a rusty piece of shit.

So we’re going to endure the next month together. We’ll go to work, Monday through Friday, at 8:40 every morning and hope we get there by 9, because really, we don’t care if we keep this job anymore.

And somewhere between 3:10 and 3:15, we’re going home, after you’re parked behind a warm dumpster all day because my cunt of a boss wont let me park you in the shed we don’t use.

This entire process will suck. I am more suited to my computer chair and I’m sure you’re better suited to a junk heap. You are a single speed, baby-brake, piece of rusted out junk. I’ll drop you off, sweaty and out of breath, every morning wishing I just listened to NPR for five minutes instead of this.


One of us will unrust and be less of a busted up piece of shit and turn into something that runs better.

I have a feeling it’ll be me.

Unless it rains, on those days, you’ll be a wet, rusting piece of shit, and I will be dry and in my car.

Love, Mei.

I like this little story.

Buddha was walking into the city market one day and near the city entrance an old bitter man was sitting on a box glaring at Buddha, who carried a bright smile on his face. At the sight of him this old man started cursing Buddha up and down, left right and center, telling him how pretentious he was, how much better he thought he was and how he did nothing worthy of the air he breathed in this world. But Buddha simply smiled and kept on walking to the market to get what he needed. The Next day Buddha returned to the market and once again that old man was there, this time his cursing intensified, screaming and yelling at Buddha as he walked by, cursing his mother, cursing his father and everyone else in his life.
This went on for the rest of the week and finally as the Buddha was leaving the market the man came up to him, as his curiousity had simply gotten the best of him. “Buddha, every day you come here smiling and every day I curse your name, I curse your family and everything you believe in” the old man says ” but every day you enter this city with a smile knowing that I await you with my harsh tongue, and everyday you leave through the same entrance with that same smile. I know by speaking to you now that you are not deaf, why do you keep on smiling while I do nothing but scream the worst things I can think of to your face?”
Buddha, with the same smile still on his face looks at the old man and asks “If I were to bring you a gift tomorrow morning all wrapped up in a beautiful box would you accept it?” to which the old man replies “Absolutely not, I would take nothing from the likes of you!”. “Ah ha” the Buddha replies “Well if I were to offer you this gift and you were to refuse then who would this gift belong to?”. “It would still belong to you of course” answers the old man. “And so the same goes with your anger, when I choose not to accept your gift of anger , does it not then remain your own?”

I’ve been dealing with some of the stupidest drama and this little story kinda hit me in all the right places right now. I don’t need to get mad, or sad, or upset, simply let the responsible party vent all his stupid out and go about my day. All their rage can be theirs, I have much more important things to deal with.