I just finished reading The Commitment by Dan Savage. It's a humorous memoir that chronicles Dan and his partner Terry's decision to marry, or not to marry, taking into account the strong opinions of their six year-old son, D.J.

I've thought about gay marriage quite a bit recently because it's in the news and because Joe Solmonese frequents my inbox with persuasive emails about how I should be a better gay. I have always considered myself to be a traditional gay man. That is, I envisioned myself falling in love with the man of my dreams, getting married, and then adopting 2-4 children. I believe that we deserve equal rights, including the right to marry. Anything less is injustice.

But Savage makes this point:

"We also weren't sure we were prepared to sacrifice the one thing gay relationships have always had over straight relationships: their quiet dignity. Straight couples that want their relationships to be taken seriously have always had to jump through the marital hoop, but not gay couples...Unlike heterosexuals, we had to do the hard work of building a life together in order to be taken seriously, something we did without any legal entanglements or incentives...when our relationships were taken seriously it was by virtue of their duration..."

I had never thought about the issue this way before. Savage is right. There is a quiet dignity about lasting same-sex relationships. That is evident in the couples I know from church and elsewhere.

I'm pretty sure I still want to be married someday (and not some dumbed-down version, like civil unions). But I'm only pretty sure. I'm not certain.

Familiar

About a month ago, I started working the night shift in the ICU. I did nights in New York, but started working days when I moved to Austin. A change in jobs was necessary, so I left my 8a-4:30p, M-F job and got this new gig in ICU. The job is busy/stress-filled if anything, but that's another post for another time.

Switching to the night shift has brought back a flood of old patterns. It takes me right back to living in New York and working my nights in ICU there. You see, working the night shift wreaks havoc on the sleep-wake cycle. Even on my nights off, my sleep schedule is messed up and so I'm up most of the night, wishing I was asleep like Abel and the dogs. I've taken to sleeping by myself so my tossing and turning and book-light won't disturb the rest of the house. Laying alone in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I feel exactly like I used to in New York. It's eerily familiar.

When I was living in Queens, on nights that I couldn't sleep I would read or watch TV til about 5am, then walk to the diner near my house and enjoy breakfast with the construction workers and delivery drivers. The diner was teeming with life at 5am.

So this morning, I decided to re-instate my diner tradition. I made the fifteen minute drive (not fifteen minute walk) to the 24 diner in search of waffles and eggs and a cup of decaf. To my surprise, there was one other person in the diner. One! And he was a (gay!) student who was immersed in his omelette and textbooks. Not hardly the construction worker-type I anticipated

The upside of being awake all night, if there is one, is that I have more time to read, contemplate, and reminisce. And time to think about blogging again. Here's to all of that, and to finding a prescription for Ambien.