Marry, marry, quite contrary.

As some of you know, I have, been slow to catch " the same-sex wedding wave. It s not just talk about gay marriage that makes me nervous; I think we should be trying to talk straight people out of marrying too. I suspect some of my gay friends have gotten married for the large cash prizes. "Honey, we've been together for 12 years. There's not a matching Tupperware top in tiffs house. Let's get registered--I mean married."

Since I've been talking about Mad Vow Disease in my shows, many people have taken me to task about my marriage aversion. I've heard horrific stories of people who were deported because they couldn't marry their partners, of families swooping in to scavenge for loot after the death of a partner. One woman in Indianapolis even brought me a computer printout of 500 ways gay people could profit from the right to marry. My favorite was number 235: My partner and I could save money on our fishing license.

Until recently the anarcho-feminist in me has always had a skepti-cam mounted firmly on her head, and to every pro-nuptial argument she would mutter, "Yeah, but ..." However, after the preemptive prejudice of California's BeKnighted Initiative, all buts are off. I am trading in my skepti-cam and dusting off one of my old bridesmaid outfits. I bought me a 50-pound bag of wild rice, and I'm itching to throw it. Thank you to the courageous Vermont legislature and to the Reform rabbis for taking a principled stand against institutionalized homophobia and for same-sex civil unions. You have made me get off my yeah-butt.

Since June seems to have devolved from marches to mingles, from rallies to street fairs, I think this year we should change the name Gay Pride Month to Gay Bride Month. Here are some ways to observe it.

Pick a church or temple in your neighborhood and each weekend in June get dressed in a tasteful outfit or, better yet, in Darva Conger and Rick Rockwell Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? drag, round up some friends, and go to a wedding! You don't have to know the mixed-sex couple. In fact, it's probably better to practice at a stranger's ceremony so you've got the drill down when you attend a friend's or relative's wedding.

When the minister gets to that part, where he or she asks if there are any objections to the union, take a deep breath, stand up, and say, "Yes, as a matter of fact, there are." If you are not versed in public speaking--and these days with E-mail, who is'?--have a little index card in your hand to which you can refer. Here are some bullet points to highlight:

* "Congratulations on your marriage. It's something my partner of 15 yearn and I can't do." (Exaggerate; they don't know who the heck you are.)

* "Until all are free to marry, no one should be free to marry."

* "Stone-sex couples could not possibly make a worse mess of marriage than mixed-sex couples."

For high theatrics, jam a cross in the back door of the church, a la The Graduate, and tell them no one is leaving until they sign your same-sex marriage petition. After the wedding and while you're still in costume, go down to your local newspaper and picket.

If you feel you couldn't possibly ruin a friend's or family member's wedding with the in-church speech, don't forget that you can still offer a wham-bang of a toast at the reception. Carry a can of spray paint, sneak out during the conga line dance, and spray a big UNJUST across the JUST MARRIED sign on the getaway car. Do a shrieking dive for the bridal bouquet, wrestle it from a bridesmaid if you have to, hold it aloft, and declaim ominously, "As you are my witness, until I can marry my partner, no one in this family will marry happily." And always be prepared to throw rice pudding.

On second thought, never mind. Boycott all mixed-sex weddings, especially if you don't want to go in the first place, and make sure to tell the happy but insensitive couple why. (See bullet points above.) Better still, until that great Same-Sex Marrying Day or that great All Gays Welcomed in the Military Day, don't pay your taxes.