"Here I am at my most hungry....

.... and here i am at my most full..."

Ani difranco finds the right phrase again. Just home from B's wedding, such a full and resonant weekend, and feeling topped over with astonishing connection with F... and so hungry, so hungry for all of it. Learning to breathe and trust that even though it still feels like we're making our way up a tough climb with ice axes sometimes to be able to orbit the same space, that we are going to the same place, a place that just gets more sure. We had fun at the wedding, playing with my old prof Tom, dancing, just being together.

B was beautiful, and the wedding was quirky elegant, and she and J are very happy. It made me glad to be there to witness it...feeling absolutely certain that it doesn't approximate anything that I aspire to. Not that particular variation on commitment, anyway. Wrapped up in F though I was, I was also experiencing the edges of being able to look, in a crowd like this, like a couple who takes this for granted, an unremarkable pair, really. Such privilege, the ability to just lose ourselves in each other, self-conscious only about being a little too starry eyed for public scrutiny, not living the reality of my last two decades where even acceptance is active, remarkable, pointed.

I was thinking about my sister's wedding, four years ago this very weekend, where dancing with A was of course unremarkable among my family -- such acceptance in aunts and uncles who went out of their way to assert that if *we* ever got married, they'd want to be there. But realizing that even among that crowd, even as I danced with her in a swingingly joyful way that was captured in one of my favourite pics of us, we were never *intimate* in a crowd in the same way, always a little self-conscious and a tiny bit wary. We were the last people on the dance floor at that wedding, A and I and another female couple who actually worked at the resort and slipped into dancing in that last moment, joining us as my youngest sister pliéd around us, a poignant moment of claiming space when almost everyone else had gone to change for the bonfire. That was a moment of acceptance... but an assertion, not the taking for granted.

I lived into "straightCate" last night -- betsey johnson dress, gold strappy sandals and all -- and loved wearing the floaty dress, loved F's amused admiration of me. Was joyful that we could be at this place at this moment in time together. But also so clear about what I'm carving for myself (for us?) as I intersect with this taken for granted place, where my notion of queer/unconventional will always prevail. One is not to take this for granted, to always have the radar about privilege open, and to try to assert solidarity where it's important. The other is to recognize that I can still carve my notions of what it means to love separately from the forms -- even when the forms seem to be the obvious ones.