Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

Outnumbered 6-2 by anti-humpers at city hall last night, I stood my ground. They've got some nerve trying to tweak the pro-humpers' plan B when their speed watch is plan A. I'm about five miles beyond glad there's no further meeting scheduled. I've mentioned that the antis tend to be elderly, which means they tend to talk loudly, slowly, repetitively, and meanderingly. My fellow pros who weren't there are so buying me good beer for putting up with that.

By default I now seem to be the organizer of a letter-writing campaign for a sidewalk on my street, too. (The idea came from the traffic calming coordinator: one city employee making work for another. Heh.) Can't I just, like, wiggle my nose to make public works happen or something?

Con and what Her Nibs called feverish preparations put me way behind on housework. I've caught up. Back to circumflatulation. Mm, slinky black fabric & metal parts.

Got new anus installed for being 15 minutes late home from Fremont this morning. The angel on one of my shoulders says Her Nibs is just cranky from being hot and sick. The devil on my other shoulder says she's ready to seize any stick she can to beat me with. I mean, does she really think Blockbuster is going to nail us for being eight minutes late? She eventually apologized, sort of. Another one for the counselling session.

Weirdest political conversation I've ever had: the L.A. Nibscousin mentioned earlier is the son of a high muckety-muck Democratic fund raiser, social worker, and basically OK Guy®, yet he plans on voting for Dubya. When we grilled him as to why, I got a disturbing look at just how much anti-Arab hate there is out there, and how the dark side of the force has driven this country -- not just its leadership, but collectively -- to do some astoundingly stupid shit in the last few years.

Attn randomdreams: the new toy is en route. Let the mad science commence!