Endorphin Withdrawal

It’s pretty clear how Americans feel about marriage. They work–like they have a fever in their gut–to make sure gay people (or any pair of people that isn’t a man and a woman) cannot enter into a contract and call it marriage. They work to make sure family values are upheld at every turn. They work to keep everyone on the up and up and status quo. Gay folks are denied the privilege of getting married (unless they are closeted gay, speed freak, massage-getting evangelists) and the rest of America feels somehow safer because of it. Marriage between a man and woman, Americans believe, is the only kind that will work within our valued American framework.

That must be why, I see, Americans are largely happy about Britney Spears giving Kevin Federline the Dear John letter via text message. That, of course, is what marriage is all about. You make bad decisions about the people with whom you enter into contracts, you compound those bad decisions by adding more people (read: kids with no choice) into the equation, and then you finish it all off via international text message. Damn, it’s good to see American marriage working the way Americans want it. I mean, darned if that little girl from Louisiana isn’t the perfect picture of American Marriage.

Yeah, after 15 hours of live blogging on election day, my body succumbed to the dread illness that the kid and the wife have been battling and my happy endorphins are on hiatus. I popped some medicine around 9pm last night and fell into a fog. I watched “Live from Baghdad” for the tenth time and passed out on the couch.

The bottle of Dom remains chilling in the fridge. Despite we here at Mt. Willis being pretty happy about how the elections went, we’re still trying to nail down the rest of our lives. The life limbo and the amount of snot on Mt. Willis mean the Dom will stay chilling. I’m hoping to drink it tomorrow night.

Thanks to everyone who had fun here on Tuesday. We, indeed, set a comments record for a single RER post. That was fun. With little to talk about but the failed marriage of two people that don’t mean much in my life, I’ll cut this short and let everyone get on with their lives.

Aside: I used to use this blog to compare my nightly dreams with my daily reality. I don’t do that anymore, because I know dreams are really, really boring. But, I’m still trying to figure out last night’s dream. I was on a plane and sitting next to a pretty blonde. The guy on the other side was hitting on her. I told her, “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend if you want.” She did and we did. It was only later, after I introduced the girl to my wife, that I learned the girl was Drew Barrymore.