The trouble with referendums

Friends have dropped by. Friday night found us eating around the kitchen table with Marsha, Reed, Devon, Annie, Joe Lane, Stephen, Erik, Dave McGee and Janet. The conversations were everywhere and for the most part, gave us a good laugh - something we all needed.

I did feel sad when we talked about the referendum in Maine that revoked the right for same-sex couples to marry. I was sadder when Stephen said, "I'm just tired of feeling bad all the time."

Civil rights cannot be legislated by referendum. The masses can't be trusted. Less than 40 years ago, my marriage would have been illegal in certain states and Babbo would have been a bastard. There was a Southern judge who recently refused to marry an African American man to a white woman on the grounds that "those" kind of marriages don't work and the children resulting from them are fucked up. Surprise Judge, statistically, that's usually the case no matter the color!

Really, this growing crusade against access to basic civil rights (recap: there is theoretically a separation of church and state, marriage licenses are issued by a representative of the state, all citizens should have equal access to a license) is turning me into an uppity old Chinese woman.

Join us, it's bliss

Finished my Oxycontin. Felt sharper pain the subsequent day, but it's all good now. Percocet got swapped out for Norco (a stronger version of Vicodin) because I was throwing up or feeling queasy most of the time. Swiss Kris (a laxative you can find at any health food store) works like a champ - not that anyone really wants to know, but one never knows....)

Have only stepped outside the house twice in 17 days - once for a checkup/stitches removal. I am a fast healer the docs say. I have heretofore been blessed with that ability.

Plowed through William Boyd's The New Confessions, and I still believe that Any Human Heart is his best. Have started on the Mishima tetrology. So far, Spring Snow (which I have read before) is sprawling, and I find myself craving the succinct writing from his short stories in Death in Midsummer.

Reading, surfing the internet, folding laundry, bathing, and hanging out with Babbo or the odd friend - recovery is like being on holiday, really.

Will probably transition from the walker or crutches to cane just in time for Christmas.