A victory for love
As my dear friend the Lurker says, "it's a good day to live in California." The California Supreme Court ruling in favor of same-sex marriages brings much joy to many and, unfortunately, much anger to some. The "some" being people who, in the name of God, seem to understand little about what love really means.

It's a bittersweet victory that comes 10 years too late for my best friend to marry his partner. It also comes too late for too many men and women who have died, of AIDS and other causes, without ever being able to have a true, equal, legal marriage with the one they love.

In a world filled with hate it stuns me that so many can be against love, in whatever form it takes. And that ridiculous "gay marriages threaten straight marriages" argument just leaves me shaking my head. I fail to see how my gay friends getting married in any way threatens my marriage. Equally stupid is the "sanctity of marriage" argument of one man and one women when pseudo-celebrities get married for a week in Vegas quickies that are over before the next issue of People comes out. Just how sacred is it when heterosexual marriages can last a sneeze-length?

I am sad and angry that I never got to be "Best Woman" at my dear friend's wedding. But I dance with joy at the thought that so many couples will be able to share in the joy that I felt when I legally married Husband.

...

And speaking of Husband, today marked the 9th anniversary of his first show on KZSU. (And, being a sleepy slacker, I missed the entire thing.) If you get a chance, I urge you to tune in next week. Friday mornings from 6-9 am (Pacific), for a fabulous 3-hours of jazz, world music, blues, maybe even a little bluegrass. It's an unpredictable and delicious mix and an incredible way to start your day.

Anybody got a light?
You gotta love this study that links pot smoking to heart attacks and strokes. The great part is this: it's linked to people who smoke between 78 to 350 joints a week!

Who smokes 350 joints a week? Who are these people? How can they afford it? How do they have the time and energy to take part in a study if all they do is chain smoke pot?

I'm a supporter of medical marijuana (it was crucial to increasing the appetite and stopping the nausea of my dear friend, Steve, when he was fighting AIDS), so ridiculous studies like this just piss me off. Should we be surprised that smoking 50 joints a day has an adverse effect on your health? 50 anything in a day would have an effect. Why don't they do a study of people who smoke 1 joint a day?

Well color me incredibly, incredibly dull!
Range Rover ads are an abomination unto the Lord. But I just saw one that completely crosses the line into absolute ridiculous. Two face-lifted spoiled yuppy types (mother and daughter). And daughter says "I expressed my individuality by ordering a white-on-white Range Rover."

That's individuality? White? Isn't white the absence of individuality? It's a fucking white fucking Range Rover -- a car that nobody who doesn't live in Kenya needs. And here are these wacky "individuals" driving around Atherton in their white-on-white yuppy tank. You want individuality bitch? Go purple. Or polka dots. Or, even better, buy a hybrid. But don't smirk at your gazillion dollar white-on-white car and claim to be an individual.

Sheep.

I want this kitten!
Today was my day at the Peninsula Humane Society and I brought my camera along again. This kitten came in last week and I fell in love with her then. Today just cemented the relationship. Her litter hadn't been named yet, so the other volunteer and I named them. Her two Marmalade brothers are named Jack (short for Jack-o-Lantern) and Milo. This one I named Tioga. For some reason her beautiful coat reminds me of the beautiful rocks around Yosemite. Hence the name.

She is SO sweet. She purrs. She curls up on my shoulder. She's just a total flirt and has completely captured my heart. If I didn't think Cipher (the World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree (tm)) wouldn't freak out I would adopt her. She's just a total sweetheart.

In search of...
Wanted: cashmere cardigan. WIth buttons. Preferably V-neck. Wine colored. (either Merlot or Burgundy. Vintage is negotiable.) Will settle for rich scarlet, but would prefer to stay away from just plain red.

OK, so it's spring. With summer around the corner. Hardly time to be buying sweaters. And yet, for some reason, it just occurred to me to look for one. Cashmere sweaters are the one wardrobe luxury in which I indulge. I love them. And I've been searching for the above described sweater for about 3 years now. It seems to be impossible to find.

Now quite often (don't shoot me) I buy men's cashmere sweaters. Why? Because I like the colors better. Men seem to get all the cool, rich colors. Women's sweaters all look like baby blankets. I look horrible in pastels and I don't like them anyway. I don't want a sweater with a color like "eggshell" or "soft robin." I want actual colors. Deep green. Sapphire blue. And, of course, the long-desired wine color. For colors like that I often have to wander over to the men's department and hope they have it in small. (I refuse to believe that sweaters have genders.)

But my dream cardigan is nowhere to be found. I did a lazy web search and found lots of cashmere sweaters, but none in the desired color. And none in my price range. (I just cannot bring myself to pay $250 for a sweater.) I'll go up to, maybe, $150...but that's pushing it. Typically I pay about $99 (on sale, usually at Macy's during the Christmas rush), and I did find some nice sweaters in that range. But while the styles were right, they were disappointingly displayed with non-colors such as "blush" (is that actually a color?) and "sea foam." (Has anyone actually seen green sea foam?)

It's kind of funny how we get desires in our mind, isn't it? You go through life happily satisfied with your lot and then suddenly you think to yourself "you know, I've always wanted a purple thrumdoodle." So you wander down to the mall, or perhaps onto the web, looking for a thrumdoodle in the perfect shade of purple. (Not too grape-y, not too eggplant-y.) But alas, you can only find thrumdoodles in yellow. And the fact that you can't find one makes you want it all the more. So you go from completely satisfied to "I must find a purple thrumdoodle or die!" Well, perhaps that's an exaggeration, but you get the point.

So what's the point? Well, there isn't one except that it's 4:49 am on a Sunday morning, I can't sleep, and I can't find a purple thrumdoodle. Or even a wine-colored cashmere cardigan.