edge of the continent

“Our state now recognizes that an individual’s capacity to establish a loving and long-term committed relationship with another person and responsibly to care for and raise children does not depend upon the individual’s sexual orientation,” George wrote for the majority. “An individual’s sexual orientation — like a person’s race or gender — does not constitute a legitimate basis upon which to deny or withhold legal rights.”

– Los Angeles Times, “California Supreme Court Overturns Gay Marriage Ban”

. . .

I was driving to campus to drop off my last term paper for the semester when I heard the decision. I cried, I did. You talk about these things in the theoretical, with hope but also with a grim understanding of maybe not yet, not this time, not today, not again. And then it is actually happening, and you’re sitting in your car, and you’re so happy that you’re choking back tears.

The fight isn’t over by any means, as there is a proposed ballot measure for the fall that could jeopardize the step that this crucial decision takes. But today, I want to dance in the street and marry every lovely queer girl I meet. How very gay, and now how very legal, of me.

Melissa’s posts at Shakesville on the Democratic presidential candidates’ reactions to the court’s decision are spot on. Bleh, indeed.

. . .

The Center Advocacy Project: Freedom to Marry

Pam’s House Blend: “Breaking: The CA Supremes totally rule!”

The Bilerico Project: “California Supreme Court OKs Marriage for Gays - But It Ain’t Over Yet”

Gay & Lesbian Times: “Locals celebrate high court’s decision to overturn same-sex marriage ban”

Three weeks, two papers, one essay, a possible pop quiz, six chapters, half a book, and three finals to go. At the precise moment I complete my last exam of the semester, I will head to the nearest bar for a shot of whatever can be poured the fastest, then I will frantically pack for an eleven-day escape that I’ve done absolutely no planning for beyond purchasing the airfare. It’s my favorite usual method of travel planning and almost comforting ridiculous in its predictability.

Add into the mix the four large projects at work that are all due the week of exams and I’ve got on my hands a recipe for extraordinary greatness or horrifying disaster. It’s an extreme viewpoint that is heavily dependent upon the time of day, the number of chapters I’m behind, or the unkempt state of my next actions list. The part of me that aims for Balance in my life says that general okay-ness should be enough. She’s getting beat up right about now by the Perfectionist, scaredy-cat me who hasn’t yet untangled her self-worth from her course grades or number of kudos received at the office. I want to equip Balance-me with a bazooka to take out Perfectionist-me, but Pacifist-me keeps getting in the way.

Rather than rake myself over the coals for the possibly rake-worthy decisions I’ve made that have brought me to this place of potential greatness/disaster/okay-ness — taking on one too many classes than is truly manageable given my full-time job, for example — I’ve decided to focus instead on: a) staying as organized as I can, so that b) I can steadily knock out what is crucial and delegate/put off the rest, while c) taking care of myself as well as I can.

Staying organized has grown harder and harder as spring has picked up speed. But in the days before my deadlines, finals, and departure, it’s crucial that I not lose sight of each obligation and goal, particularly for the ones I’m giving to others or putting off until after my return. Despite outward appearances, I’d like very much to have something — a paycheck, good academic standing — to return to.

The more stressed and overloaded I become the worse I take care of myself, which is where “c” comes in: it’s about enforcing the practices of getting plenty of rest, sticking to a sleep/wake routine, eating nutritious meals, staying hydrated, taking the time to meditate, and making room for exercise and fresh air. I’m viewing this time as an opportunity to practice better stress management and self-care under admittedly overwhelming conditions, as my previous habits of binge-TV zoning and excessive cupcake-baking just aren’t cutting it anymore.

So, three weeks to go: stay organized, knock it out, practice good self-care. It’s not a sexy mantra, but I feel fairly good about getting through to the other side where I know that a plane ride awaits. Even if I’m not packed.