Okay, it’s enough already. Republicans are pissed off, I get it, but they need to exercise a little restraint, for Pete’s sake. I am so tired of hearing about Sarah Palin’s crosshairs and McCain’s non-cooperation stance and the epithets and the broken windows….

My brother sent me this video which is a very helpful tool for anger management. I suggest that all mad Republicans take a look, for a more mature approach to dealing with anger over the triumphs of those snooty Dems.

I was in NYC for St. Pat’s Day, and once again I noticed how, when it comes to this holiday, New York knows how to party. Los Angeles, on the other hand, is clueless. I spoke to a friend in L.A. that day who had no idea it was a holiday. No New Yorker could make that claim, since half of Manhattan is shut down to accomodate a parade of green people. Everywhere you look there’s a leprechaun, and the whole city smells of beer. It’s a blast, but I got on the plane to head west before the barfing started….here’s a pic of a friendly leprechaun I met on 5th Avenue, shortly before the parade began and i hightailed it to JFK.

It is “Cuss Free Week” in California.

What happened was, this kid in Pasadena started a “No Cussing Club’ in his junior high school a couple years ago. Next thing you know, some Assemblyman from La Canada (who apparently has nothing better to do since our state is so ship shape in every other respect) proposed a resolution which the Assembly has passed and is sending on to the Senate, to make this thing real and annual, so all us cussers will be forced to abstain for a whole darn week every darn March.

Actually, I have been pretty good about observing CFW. Others, I’ve noticed, have not been so compliant. Sandra Bulloc’s publicist was quite abusive  when I stepped on the train of her client’s dress at the Oscars but, I think that was technically just before Cuss Free Week started, so I let it go.

But then that gas station attendant really let loose the other day when I forgot to remove the gas pump/hose/thing from my vehicle before leaving his premises. Golly, he was mad. I tried to tell him about the significance of Cuss Free Week but I guess he didn’t hear me because he just told me to  %X$%!! off.

Even my husband Tom slipped out a curse when we lost power yesterday just as he’d snapped on the TV to chill with a little Sports Center. In spite of my gentle reminder that California wasn’t cussin’, he uttered a few more naughty ones when forced to read the sports section by dim flashlight.

But I did pretty well, curse-wise, even when my dog Oliver vomited on the carpet just as I was leaving for the airport today.  However, I am now at LAX and very frustrated because I just heard my gosh darn flight is delayed two hours. I mean  I’m saying “gosh darn,” but once we’re airborne, safely out of the state, I will admit I’m thinking more colorful language.

So, thank goodness we live in post-racial America. I mean, that’s what I’ve been hearing, ever since Obama’s election, on the news, in the blogosphere, on the street: we’re totally post-racial. This makes me proud to be an American.

Today, I woke up feeling all post-racial, which is a really god feeling. I mean, when you hear on the radio that frat boys at UC San Diego posted a Facebook invitation to a ghetto-themed party, mocking Black History Month, called “Compton Cookout, ” or when your friend tells you about those U. of Missouri students getting busted for distributing cotton balls in front of the school’s Black Culture Center, or the elementary school teachers in L.A. who gave the kids posters of O.J. Simpson, Dennis Rodman and Ru Paul to carry in the Black History Month parade, even when you hear this stuff, you can think, yeah, but we’re post-racial, which is comforting to know. I mean, what if, say, we we were still whatever we were before we were post-racial (racial? Pre-racial?) then things would probably be a lot worse. You’d maybe even see, I don’t know, heck, people comparing the first lady to a chimpanzee or something! But, yeah, like that would ever happen in these fab, post-racial times.