Lesbian limbo.

• Author: Clinton, Kate
• Position: Unplugged

Oh, don't mind me. I've just been a little cranky, a tad blue. I think it started in the madness of March, with the tenth anniversary of the war in Iraq. It is not just the costs in blood and treasure of the off-the-books war. It is that George W. Bush is not in jail. He might not be able to visit Europe, but he's still not in Gitmo, which remains open, by the way. On the day of the splashy opening ceremonies for the Bush Liebrary, I hid the sharp kitchen knives.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

My dear galpal astutely suggested that the cause of my mood might be pope-partum depression. When Pope Benedict gave God two weeks' notice, it was quite a rush. He bid his last infallible adieus, flew to Castel Gandolfo, and stepped out of his papal robes into his papal snuggie.

Then there was the rush of Red Party Conclave in the Sistine, the white smoke, and finally Pope Francis I, Miss Congeniality last time, Pope this time. So now that Ex Benedict was being served in the newly refurbished mother-in-law cottage behind the Vatican, sure, maybe ! was having a bit of a letdown.

But I also got cranky awaiting the Supreme Court's decisions about the constitutionality of Prop 8 and the overturning of DOMA, the Defense of Marriage Act. I was in lesbian limbo. How low could I go?

During the oral arguments, I had my in-house lawyer interpret the Court free-for-all, which sounded like an out-of-control seventh grade class I once taught. While many of the fine points were lost on me, it did seem that Chief Justice John Roberts was doing an imitation of the warden in Cool Hand Luke. He leaned in and asked the pro-gay-marriage advocates, "You got lots of powerful friends now, don't you? You don't...