Goin’ to the Chapel…

… and we’re gonna get married.

Oh wait… we can’t in Pennsylvania.

Daryl and I have decided (he doesn’t know it yet) that we MAY want to get married someday. Until 2004, same-sex couples couldn’t wed anywhere in the country. Now, gay marriage is legal in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire and most recently Maryland. 

We’re in NO rush mind you, I mean look at what straight people have done to the institution! However, it might be nice someday to walk down a flower drenched aisle at Calvary Christian Chapel in Chester Springs (oh wait, I forgot they kicked Daryl out because of his “sexual preference”) in front of family and friends to share a sense of public loving (read: legal) commitment.

If we DID decide on wedded bliss, we’d have to decide most importantly who would be the best man. Since I would be marrying MY best man, I guess we would pick Crystal, Daryl’s sister who lives in San Antonio, Texas. She actually got married once several years ago I heard, to HERSELF. That’s REALLY how it should be done! No messy custody battles or embarrassing public shows of hatred and jealousy should you fall out of love or find infidelity within your soul. I love Crystal.

We’d need bridesmaids I guess, or at a minimum, a maid of honor. We know tons of “fag hags” that we could invite further into our inner circle of love for the task, but knowing us, we’d probably just pick “the cat,” dress her up in a dress and bonnet of humiliation and leave it at that.

Our Moms could be escorted in by two shirtless hunky men (I detect a recurring theme throughout my blog), a mandingo for my Mom and an Irish tenor for Daryl’s Mom. The escorts would be very rich so that the mothers could have built-in dates/future husbands to dance with at the reception.

The reception would be held, where else but where it all began with Daryl and I, the timeless Iron Hill in Media. Micro-brewed beers for EVERY one, and burgers beyond belief! It would be chicer than chic with fine draped rainbow colored crepe paper and matching tissue crafted carnations.

After a honeymoon on the banks of Goose Creek, we’d most likely reside where we both grew up… here in West Chester in a house with a white picket fence and 2.4 children. Ahhh wedded bliss.


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