...like a fish needs a bicycle.

(The email from Mr. Obama today)

Lisa —

Today, I was asked a direct question and gave a direct answer:

I believe that same-sex couples should be allowed to marry.

I hope you’ll take a moment to watch the conversation, consider it, and weigh in yourself on behalf of marriage equality:

http://my.barackobama.com/Marriage

I’ve always believed that gay and lesbian Americans should be treated fairly and equally. I was reluctant to use the term marriage because of the very powerful traditions it evokes. And I thought civil union laws that conferred legal rights upon gay and lesbian couples were a solution.

But over the course of several years I’ve talked to friends and family about this. I’ve thought about members of my staff in long-term, committed, same-sex relationships who are raising kids together. Through our efforts to end the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, I’ve gotten to know some of the gay and lesbian troops who are serving our country with honor and distinction.

What I’ve come to realize is that for loving, same-sex couples, the denial of marriage equality means that, in their eyes and the eyes of their children, they are still considered less than full citizens.

Even at my own dinner table, when I look at Sasha and Malia, who have friends whose parents are same-sex couples, I know it wouldn’t dawn on them that their friends’ parents should be treated differently.

So I decided it was time to affirm my personal belief that same-sex couples should be allowed to marry.

I respect the beliefs of others, and the right of religious institutions to act in accordance with their own doctrines. But I believe that in the eyes of the law, all Americans should be treated equally. And where states enact same-sex marriage, no federal act should invalidate them.

Thank you,
Barack

I’m in a dorm room. Hotel room? Hotel room. My roommate is rushing me, we have to go pick someone up. There’s a pile of shoes and I can’t get any on - I end up in flip flops and I don’t even know whose they are.

We make our way out of the hotel complex to pick up our other roommate and it’s Jake Johnson and maybe this is some kind of “New Girl”-esque dreamscape and I’m actually OK with that. I love that show.

Anyways…we’re leaving the complex, these major gates in front of us open up and across the street is like, the Vegas strip. There’s even that big pyramid-looking hotel, and there’s this big pirate ship, too. So we decide we’re gonna head that way and check it out, and then my aunt is there, the one who gets all the best deals and she tells us she got us a deal to get into the VIP space in the big pyramid hotel.

So I hop up on this stool on wheels and Jake (because in my dream, I can call him Jake) comes up behind me and pushes me, except he’s not so much pushing me as he’s got his arms around my waist and he’s walking with me and I’m just rolling along, with Jake there right behind me, feeling so secure knowing he’s there. (Why is dream me so emotionally aware?)

We get to the line and Jake lets go and roommate 1 and my aunt and other friends go to get in this long line to get into the VIP section, and Jake and I are walking and he references this woman nearby who’s really overweight and he’s like, “You know, I love that you don’t carry all your extra weight like that.” And I freak - I mildly freak - and I’m like “Wait, what?” Because he was trying to pay me a compliment but he basically just called me fat, right? So I tell him what I think and walk towards the line to stand with friends and my aunt. Clearly he hit a button - a big, red, blinking button.

Except now I can’t see Jake from the line, so I’m asking where he is, thinking he just left, you know - because that’s what people do, they leave when stuff gets shitty. And my friend - maybe it was Winston? - is like, No, he’s right there, see? And he points across the line. I crane my neck and I do see him and I see that he’s crying. Like, he’s really hurt and he’s really upset that he hurt me. And it’s not an ugly crying, like I’d get all embarrassed about it. It’s crying like, this is not good, this is not how this was supposed to go.  So like something out of some mid-90s romantic comedy, I go busting through the line and run over to him and apologize like mad and he’s apologizing and then…

…here’s where things get weird…

…he turns to stone. STONE. Not like a statue of Jake Johnson, either. That I could handle. Instead it’s like this stick figure, and he’s actually broken - there’s a part of him missing. But then roommate 1 (Winston? I’m not sure!) fixes him. The stone just replaces itself.

And then…here’s where things get REALLY weird…we’re so excited that he’s repaired - that the stone is fixed - that Stone Jake Johnson starts flying and I’m tagging along like Mary to his Peter Pan and we fly up to the pirate ship and around the sails and hang out there for a bit, maybe repair something? I feel like we repaired something - like, it was a big deal we got up there and set things right again or something to that effect. Then Stone Jake Johnson flies me back down again.

And when we land, he’s back to normal. Not only is he back to normal but he’s beaming and I’m beaming and we meet up with our friends again and we’re all just walking away, and my phone buzzes and he’s texting me (and I can tell he has a new iPhone because it’s totally blue texts and even this little detail makes dream me smile) about how can we go to JCPenney later so he can get his gift card and prove them wrong that in the end he did find me, someone he laughs with at the odd little things and I can’t remember all the texts that came through but at the end, I took a beat to think about what I wanted to say back because, you know, we just met or whatever, but I just go for it and I text him back, “Love you. See you soon.”

And I can’t remember when I woke up more at peace, more calm and more OK with…well, with everything.

(Footnote 1: sorry, Jake Johnson - I have no idea why you were the one in this dream. Is it because I find you insanely attractive and adore your character on The New Girl? Maybe.)

(Footnote 2: I never remember my dreams. I’m sharing this one because it couldn’t have been a more powerful recollection this morning as I woke up, and I wanted to put this down somewhere.)

(Footnote 3: I have so many theories about what all was going on in my goofy subconscious head in each scene of this crazy dream…rather than play them all out here, I’m gonna hold on to those. Bit too revealing, methinks.)