welcome to kansas, ca

Today I wore my Obama shirt to the gym. As I was walking in, an old Asian man hobbled towards me and said, "Obama? No!" I said, "Actually, yes. That's who I'm voting for." He said, "You should vote for a Christian," and walked away from me. "Do your research!" I yelled after him. First of all, who cares if he's a Christian or not? Secondly, he is a goddamn Christian.

Last night, as I was putting Benjamin to bed, my Obama and No on Prop. 8 signs were stolen for the THIRD time. This time, I had stapled them high up on the palm trees outside of my house. It didn't matter. Very angry, I ran outside with my back-up Obama sign and strapped it to the palm tree with duct tape. As Ryan and I were doing so, a creepy guy up the street that lives in what we call The Gilbert Grape house muttered out his screen door something about that's what you get and something about homosexuals. I swear this is true. Ryan heard it as well. So Ryan politely asked the man to come outside and say something to his face and I yelled something about trespassing on my property. Oh, and I called him a douchebag. No response.

Using my hot glue gun, I affixed bulletin board tacks along the top of my homemade back-up No on 8 sign and planted it in my yard.

I know I'm going a little crazy now. The thing is, I can't stand looking at all of the McCain and Yes on 8 signs anymore. And I can't stand the thought of a fat-ass redneck ripping signs out of my front yard.