It seems the American Family Association has their panties in a bunch because Hallmark has begun selling same-sex marriage wedding cards. In fact, they’re so upset about it they’ve set up a page for fellow snit-meisters email the company directly to express their outrage.

I’ve got a better idea. Let’s all use their server, and their bandwidth, to congratulate Hallmark on their enlightened decision, and wish them booming sales. Better yet, send a note, then go to the store and buy one of those cards, even if you have no one to give it to.

Hallmark may be in it for the money, but the effect is progressive. I’m hoping it’s the beginning of a trend.

Yahoo News says that Joe Biden took the VP call from Obama on his cell phone. In the middle of a root canal.

But was it before or after the laughing gas?

UPDATE: Yahoo has issued a correction. Biden got the call Thursday during his wife’s root canal. Being dental-phobic myself, any guy who would wait around to drive his wife home gets my vote.

In written form, I consider myself a decent communicator. Close up, one to one? Not so much. There’s no delete key on spoken conversation, and I don’t get hours to formulate the perfect reply. When I’m spontaneous I usually embarrass myself. The things that pop instantly to mind are often not socially acceptable, and make sense only if you’re familiar with the half hour of silent dialog in my head that lead up to that comment. I think it makes it easy for people to write me off as a) eccentric or b) crazy. It’s the b) that I’m worried about.

So I stick to myself a lot. My family and friends are pretty good at blowing off the unexpected, or asking me about the logic that got me to what I just said, but that’s too much work for a casual acquaintance. The worst is when people feel they need to explain me, like why sometimes I need to get up and go outside and walk for awhile, or why I scratch when I get nervous. It hurts me that they feel they have to do this, and it hurts them to be embarrassed by me. It’s easier to just stay inside and live in my head rather than put us all through that.

That’s one thing I miss about smoking. It was always a good excuse to get away from a crowded room and step outside into the quiet for awhile. No one expects scintillating conversation over the ashtray. It’s just a bunch of solitary people who happen to be standing together. I can handle that. I need to be around people who aren’t focused on me, where I don’t feel any pressure to participate.

I think I need better social armor. I feel too raw in public. I’ve been isolated long enough that I’ve forgotten how “normal” people do things, the little routines and rituals that make up casual interaction and small talk. But the longer I stay inside my house, the harder it gets to leave.

But I’m starting to change that. I had a wonderful experience this summer at a large writers’ conference. I only had to leave a class once to walk, and I made dinner table conversation with strangers 3 times a day. I had strong urges to head for the ashtray, but thanks to a mostly non-smoking crowd, I resisted them. It worked because it was all pretty low pressure and no one seemed to have any expectations of me. By the end of the week, I knew over a dozen people by name.

So now I need to keep this going. My science class starts on Monday, and it’s is going to take every free minute I’ve got for awhile. Last term that kept me locked in the house with the excuse that I was too busy to go out. But this time I’m going to do things differently. Twice a week I’m going to take the time I have dedicated to study and visit my favorite coffee shop to read quietly in public and be friendly to anyone who stops to say hi. I know this doesn’t sound like much to most people, but it’s huge for me. I know the owner, but not so well enough that she’ll feel the need to explain me. That’s freeing.

I hope I can develop some tougher skin this way and get to the point where I can casually hang out with people I don’t know and have a good time. This summer was a successful start on that. I can do it with writers; now I need to learn to do it with “normal people.”

This is going to be good for me.

When I went to pick up my pills this week, I got some great news. My Lamictal, which is painfully expensive, has finally gone generic! The off-brand is now on sale for 1/4 the cost of the original.

However, it will unfortunately be 2012 before the patent on Geodon expires.

None of these things warrant a full post, so here’s a quick rundown on what’s going on.

• The air is gray with smoke. Two major wildfires are burning on the edge of the county, and are still a long way from being contained.
• This is Tony’s last day at home. Tomorrow morning it’s off to Moscow, Idaho to move him in. I’m not ready for this.
• I’ve been watching far too much Olympics. I love it the same way I do So You Think You Can Dance, just enjoying the performances and cheering for everyone.
• Meredith returns home today from her grand tour up and down the coast. She’s getting 40 mpg in her newly acquired Kia Rio. I’m jealous.
• I’m on another bad stretch of nightmares. I need some magic to let me sleep.
• My new class, Physical Geography, starts on Monday. First chapter: the Earth is round. Seriously.

More later.

The University of Idaho takes online payments. But it wants an additional $44.87 to receive the money faster and with no chance of a check bouncing.

Uh … no. I’ll mail it in.

Buena Vista University will take my money online, but they only accept credit cards, not bank transfers.

Pacific Lutheran University doesn’t take online payments at all.

I thought universities were supposed to be leading us boldly into the new century? My electric company is more progressive than this.

This is absolutely amazing. If you do nothing else today, watch this!

Know someone with a chronic illness or disability? Here’s what not to do.

From amandaw @ Feministe:

Often, when someone learns that another person lives with some sort of medical condition, slight or severe, their first reaction is to suggest to that person some way they could make their condition better.

On behalf of all those persons, let me say: Stop.

Think.

That person has had that condition for months, years, or even their entire lifetime. You, on the other hand, have possibly heard of that condition — and possibly not! — and certainly have no experience living with it. Maybe you know someone else who has it, and maybe that’s a person you actually know fairly well (but that is a very small minority out of those who make these comments).

Which of these two people, do you think, knows a broader range of treatment options for said condition?

Don’t you think that person has already tried more treatment options than you even know exist?

And don’t you think, therefore, that such a suggestion is a bit of an insult to this person, who has, more than likely, struggled and fought with their condition for years already?

Living with Bipolar Disorder, I’ve heard the spectrum, pushing everything from SAM-E, melatonin and herbs to chiropractic adjustment. But my own personal advice favorite: turn your life over to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and be healed.

I even get this from my general practitioner’s nurse.

Don’t be that person. If I want suggestions, I’ll ask for them. Please. I understand that you’re uncomfortable when confronted with a disability, but consider who your advice is intended to help - you, or the focus of your attention. It’s not my job to reassure you that if you do things right you won’t end up like me, because that really is the gist of this kind of “help,” implying that somehow I’ve brought it on myself by not a) exercising b) praying c) thinking positive thoughts d) insert your direction of choice here. I don’t have to justify myself and my treatment to you.

If you’ve heard something that truly excites you and if you’re more than a casual acquaintance, it’s still important to phrase your information, if you must say anything, as “have you heard about X?” rather than “You should try X” or worst of all, “Why haven’t you tried X?” If I don’t want to discuss it, let it go.

I have interests that have nothing to do with my disorder. Let’s talk about that instead.

The past isn’t dead. It isn’t even past. — William Faulkner

After a whirlwind trip to Iowa to visit my family, I’m safely back home, ensconced in my own basement office with a cup of coffee and a load of unsettled memories that are going to take me a while to process.

Maybe someday I’ll be able to talk about it.

The best way to confront your demons is head on, in the light of day.

But not until you’ve had your morning coffee.