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Because I know some people who like pi(e).

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To my wife on our fifth wedding anniversary:

Five years ago today we stood in a little backyard and, with four people to witness, we did something that left us feeling at once elated and guilty: we got married.

As one of the thousands of gap couples to get married before the passage of Prop 8, we approached our impending nuptials in a way that no couples we know have had to.  We didn’t have a year (or even months) to choose flowers, make guest lists and worry over seating charts. We didn’t tour venues or attend fittings or sample cake.  

At the time, we joked about how much easier it was when you were forced to downplay such a major event and were given a deadline – a day by which you had to have everything signed and notarized because the chance for a do-over relied on popular vote.

That day, in a backyard with Sarah McLachlan’s voice drifting from a tiny boom-box, I’ll admit I had the jitters. They had nothing to do with cold feet or stage fright (though I did stumble over my vows; speaking in front of people – even four - is nerve-wracking). The twisting in my stomach came from passing bright yellow signs with blue lettering that lined the streets of our neighborhood as we made our way to legalize the relationship we’d shared for nearly a decade.

Those signs stayed in the back of my mind and, even now, color how I remember that day. When I think about the unexpected charm of such a small affair and the little touches our friends added (though we asked for simplicity), I also think about how it felt like I was sneaking a cookie just before dinner – like I was taking something that wasn’t meant to be mine.

I regret nothing about that day that was within our control. And, under the same circumstances, I’d do it again.

Would I have liked a surprise proposal instead of a quiet discussion in the middle of the night that led to our agreeing to take a chance and hope it sticks (it being the legality of it, not our relationship, of course)? Yes, maybe.

Would I have liked a little more time to plan and to allow more people to share our day with us – to celebrate what we’d built over nine years together? Of course.

Will I always imagine what it would have been like to have my stepdad walk me down the aisle? Would he place my hand on yours and say, with his signature bottom lip poking out and a curt nod of his head, his voice not nearly as gruff as it could be, “Stephie.”? Probably every day. 

The chance for some of these things have passed. But not for all of them.

I want to think about what we want and who we want beside us. I want to argue over seating and venue and songs.  I want our son to stand with us because he needs to see for himself what people who love each other do: they stand up for and celebrate their commitment. Even if it’s been real for nearly fourteen years. Even if it’s been legal for five.

We said that we’d do it again when everyone is allowed to do it. We said we’d invite our friends and our family (and I’ll probably need to write down my vows because, remember, public speaking freaks me out). We said we’d do it – and I want to do it the right way.

I’ve seen enough movies to know how the right way begins.

So, what do you think? Will you marry me (again)?

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How Jessie Writes Complaint Letters (Not a joke)

Just hit send on this email with the subject Thank You:

The McDonald's we normally go to is in Corona, on Serfas Club just off the 91 freeway, and has two drive-thru lanes. (I'd give you the store number but my receipt was completely faded when I received it). 

 When I pulled up, I was asked to give my order and for every item I requested, the person taking the order either got it wrong, only got half of what I said or didn't hear me at all. As it turns out, he was also cashing someone out at the same time as he was taking my order. I didn't mind because he (eventually) got it right on the screen and, really, I was in a good enough mood because everyone had a great day and we were going to celebrate with a special treat. A kid trying to juggle multiple tasks (and near-failing at the one that involved me) wasn't going to dampen that. 

I pulled up to the payment window and had to sit and wait for him to take another order. I actually considered this good news. After all, the person whose order he was taking was going to have it done without having to make a lot of corrections or constantly have to repeat him/herself.  Great mood? Still in tact. 

 I go to the next window to receive my order and am greeted by - well, at first no one. But it looked really busy, so I didn't mind. I knew it as my turn when my large sweet teas where thrust at my face by a young man who was looking in the opposite direction. Again, it was busy, so - y'know. No big. He didn't actually hit my face and nothing spilled. 

My son, of course, is in his car seat doing his version of the seated pee-pee dance and whining about "I can't hold it" as I'm given our dinners. Two bags: one Happy Meal and one with "grown-up" food (chicken McNugget Meals and a few burgers - I'm not gonna lie; one was for our dog). I take an extra second that I'm not sure my son has before he has an accident, but I really want to make sure our sauces are right. His groans from the backseat, I must admit, rushed me. We took off, meals in hand and headed home. 

Upon making it home, we unpack our meals (my son runs to the bathroom to take care of his business) and we realize that I hadn't done a good enough job of doing the job of the person who works the food window - we didn't have our large fries. How could I overlook that? It's such a large part of the meal and, really, you can smell the fries from the freeway - that's how important they are. It's a good thing I don't work for you or else I'd ask you to have a word with me about more carefully checking the orders before handing them out. 

I had to go back out. What kind of meal is a McDonald's dinner without fries? Simple answer: it's not. It's a snack with no nutritional value whatsoever. Everyone knows that. So ... leaving, the comfort of my home, back to the store I went. 

I walked in and asked for the manager. He approached me with a smile - it was upside down, but it was there and that's what counts. I showed him my faded receipt and explained that I hadn't received my large fries. He squinted at the receipt and all but held it up to the light to check that it wasn't a forgery (I'm sure there's market for that sort of thing). He eventually announced: "You were only charged for one order of fries."

Well, that explains everything! I didn't receive any fries because I only paid for one order. How silly of me. You can imagine my embarrassment. 

Except, here's the thing: I ordered two #13 meals, large with sweet teas. The screen at the drive thru displayed that as my order (including the fries!). I got the large sweet teas (remember, they didn't spill OR hit me in the face! Yay!) and I got the chicken nuggets. Now, luckily for me, this manager decided to do me a giant favor (out of the kindness of his heart and I hope he doesn't get in trouble with you for going out of his way like this) and gave me the food that I ordered, am sure I paid for (but can't offer proof because of the super-magic disappearing receipt ink used at this store) but that I didn't receive. 

He further made me feel like a valued customer by completing drive thru orders (with fries!) and making me stand for about 3 minutes and watch him serve others while not giving me the items I returned from my home to get. This is the very same home in which my family was eating their meals (without me) and the same home to which I returned with two orders of large fries to go with one value meal that was already eaten and another that had become cold while I was out.

So, thank you, McDonalds Store number faded receipt. Thank you for allowing me to treat my family to a special night! I'm sure my family enjoyed their meals (even if I wasn't there to witness it).

I realize that this is a franchise and that you have many customers. Losing one means nothing to a business as successful as yours - this point is obvious by your manager's superb customer service skills and his crew's amazing quality control efforts. Had this been the first time we'd encountered an issue, you would have received a shorter email (actually, I wouldn't have bothered because - eh. Whatever, dude); but, this is a recurring issue and we've more often than not returned home without hash browns, with the wrong sauces, without my son's chocolate milk (the travesty!) or some other items we'd ordered. After eight years of visiting this store and continually giving it another chance, we just have to throw in the towel. 

Thank you for proving to us that the customer is not always right and, in the grand scheme of things, isn't valued. 

[My name]

Former Customer of Store Number - who even cares anymore.

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Leon would have smiled and shook his head in disbelief to know "the Littlest Leyson" made the national news.

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Arkham Daycare ... I love that little Harley.

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Just found my new favorite Buffy tumblr.  Buffy + limericks = solid gold

A Buffy Episode Guide in Limerick Form - Amends (3x10)

Well, Angel was feeling contrite So he struggled to set things aright But Giles was proving Quite cold and unmoving Maybe Angel should try Barry White?

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I know this is already old news. Heck, I posted it to Facebook. But ... I wanted it on my Tumblr for easy future viewing.

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"The 1% will no longer be the very rich. It'll be the very fast."

Whedon On Romney (by WhedonOnRomney)

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I have no explanation. I just drew it. 

That happens sometimes. 

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A glimpse into my digital Moleskine.  Click the images to embiggen them and to read the captions. Good times. 

Made with Paper

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This has been a test.

I drew some stuff using Paper on my iPad. Testing the upload fuction. 

This has been a test. 

Beep. 

Or something. 

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Made with Paper

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Reason #457 why Jessie shouldn't be allowed to doodle while on the phone. 

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Natalie Wood

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This almost makes me wish I hadn't changed my mind about teaching. I could totally be writing fanfic right now!

jaredpotterlecki:

comparisons:

saltandsilverbullets:

illegalfag:

satomimi:

sometimes i wonder what my teachers’ otps are.

what if teachers shipped their students

ship wars in the staff room

anonymous hate mail in other teachers’ assignment boxes

fanfiction written by english teachers, fanart drawn by art teachers

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A special message for Auntie ...