I got home last night and TBU had delicious homemade sangria waiting for me. He said he wanted to get into the spirit of mardi gras with Spanish stuff or something. I was like booze = mardi gras =perfect. What was even more awesome was that he was preparing breakfast burritos for dinner! My favorite Mexicanish meal! When we were just about to eat he mentioned the Mexican cokes in the fridge. Mexican cokes!? Awesome. Then I asked why all the Mexican/Spanish stuff. And he said because isn’t that where mardi gras comes from? And I said no, it’s French. To which he replied, well that makes sense because it has a French name. Then I asked what mardi gras means in French. And he was like, “Fat Tuesday,” duh.

We clearly need each other.

It’s Ash Wednesday, no more fucking around people.

The other day we got a letter on our door from our landlord. They’re doing a yearly inspection of all the apartments to make sure the fire alarms are working and to check up on the condition of the apartment. So the following things need to be addressed before next Thursday.

• The fire alarms need to be reattached
• The leaky faucet in the bathroom
• The bleach stains on the carpet
• The broken closet door
• The several missing vertical blinds
• The broken kitchen drawer
• The broken screen door
• The compost pile in the backyard

Something tells me landlords don’t think highly of pits filled with food waste on their property. To be fair though, I don’t think we can attract any more skunks, possums or raccoons. And as important as fire alarms are, it’s more important to stop the ear stabbing when they confuse a minor toaster oven situation with an actual fire. Why are there so many things that we should have already called the landlord about but haven’t? Because the handyman he sends over is a fucking creep and he’s the one who caused the bleach stains on the carpet.

The Millionizer used to want to be a professional swimmer before Michael Phelps smoked some weed. Now she doesn’t care about anything.

So of course I am thrilled about our new president elect. The disappointment over prop 8 passing is totally raining on my parade though. Tuesday night there was a spontaneous street party downtown and we all awoke to the realization that while we were spraying champagne on each other and drumming on city property, ballots discriminating against the gay community poured in to change California’s constitution. After such a magical election night the passing of prop 8 felt like a punch in the stomach. But to be completely honest I don’t think it’s going to last. The gay community and their supporters are far too riled up to let this be the final call. And as one man at a protest said, this is probably the best thing to happen, now the community is energized and ready to fight. Whole counties are filing law suits against the decision as well as the ACLU and private individuals. At this point, there’s no turning back. I am so excited to see the fight because in the end I think it’s going to be beautiful and I will probably cry the way I did when the West coast results came in last Tuesday and I heard “Barack Obama” and “next president of the United States of America.” I have never seen a more thrilling sight than when we all realized what had just happened and instinctively joined in celebration.

The Millionizer