Get your feet wet

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In a half hour, we will be married. The Marriage Commissioner and photographer have yet to arrive, Krista time still to firmly, lovingly harass me into the gown, but just now, after an 18-hour ceaseless lashing of rain and wind, the sky has suddenly gone sweet and dry, and we burst onto our soon-to-be altar…

Ladies, kindly STFU already.

As most people close to me know, I have a verrrry testy relationship with marriage. Some aspects of deeply trouble me: its religious foundations, its patriarchal history of a woman being ceded by one man to another, even — I’ll admit it — its permanence. For me, marriage represents a certain end to a narrative…

Dollars without sense

So this morning, I initiated a conversation with Michael on Bush’s proposed tax cuts and how our (lack of) marital status bears on our potential 2008 gains. Which is more or less equivalent to my striking up a chat about microwave spectroscopy, or throwing down my two bits on calculating quantities in quantum chromodynamics, in…