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On Jumping the Broom and Adventures South

My sister got married Saturday.  (Take that, Steve Harvey, et. al.!) Since I’ve just arrived back in town mere hours ago, and feel like 8 pounds of crap in a 5-pound bag, I have no faith in my ability to compose a complete sentence let alone an entire blog about the news and culture of the day.  As a result, I’ve decided to post thoughts and observations inspired by my trip to North Carolina and my sister’s wedding.  I’ll have something more substantive next week.  In the meantime:

  • In graduate school, they tell you that you should have a question or two at the center of your project(s).  Folks around here love to ask you, “What’s your question?  What’s your story?”  Well, my question on this particular project was: Is there such a thing as too much Chick-Fil-A?  The answer is a resounding no. It should be a sin for Chick-Fil-A to be closed on Sundays.  If Jesus made chicken, it would taste like Chick-Fil-A, and he would want us to have nuggets on Sunday.  Call it communion.  Take.  Eat…
  • I know naming is an incredibly important thing for folks, and who am I to tell you what to call yourself?  But seriously, can we just cut out the hyphenation thing or at least establish a rule?  Something like, if your last name is going to be more than 3.5 syllables if you hyphenate, please just pick one name and move on?  If your hyphenated name is not going to fit on a scantron sheet, it’s too long and you just need to pick one.  He can change his name, you can change our name, you can pick a brand new name, create a portmanteau of both of your names.  Something.  Mary Stevenson-McDonald is doing too much.  Trust me.  If you’re going to hyphenate rather anonymous last names, you’re also doing too much.  Be Tracey Smith or Tracey Johnson.  Smith-Johnson is just the unnecessary joining of two unremarkable last names.  Think of the children.
  • Weddings are so much funnier when the ring bearer and flower girl absolutely cannot stand one another.
  • I really never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever have to hear “Single Ladies” again. In fact, DJs, I recently heard that every time you play that song, God makes somebody smack a puppy.  Think about it.
  • If your wedding budget would allow you to fly first class anywhere in the world and stay in a 5-star hotel for several days, and/or pay off your bills, and/or send you and your entire wedding party to Vegas, and/or is enough for a down payment on your first home, and/or would allow you to pay cash for a new Mercedes, you’re spending too much on what really is 20 minutes and dinner and drinks for people you wouldn’t even tolerate if they weren’t family.  The divorce rate is 60%.  Think about that before you decide on lobster and shrimp over the Golden Corral buffet.  There are retainer fees to think about, after all.
  • If more people eat Waffle House’s cheese ‘n’ eggs, being a vegan will eventually become a federal offense.  In fact, I’m thinking of starting a movement.  Join me.
  • For the record, I don’t trust a Waffle House above the Mason-Dixon.  I have standards.
  • You can’t unfriend family.  Even if they post a picture of you in your maid of honor threads while you’re on the road and have no internet access.
  • Speaking of dresses, a lot of folks, knowing my positions on dresses and traditional marriage, asked me if I was actually going to be my little sister’s maid of honor.  I responded that I loved my sister enough to dress in drag for 20 minutes.  In some of those conversations, I heard about folks who had chosen not to participate in a sibling’s wedding because of ideological differences.  I say this without judgment, but I hope that I don’t ever not do something for someone I love–that’s not detrimental to them–because I don’t agree with it ideologically.   Politics are important, but not that important–for me, at least.
  • I know there’s no such thing as Happily Ever After but I hope my sister Janelle and her new husband, Cody get as close to it as possible.  Rock out, kids: