It's a pistil-perfect, mellow yellow Sunday in my beloved Bernal Heights. Olivia is lying at my feet surrounded by her favorite bones that she just plucked out of her "bone drawer." She and Jack have already been on a morning walk. I didn't go because I was still asleep when they left. Didn't get up until 9 a.m. which is way late for me.
I'm listening to an Anne Murray album of duets that she does with a bunch of other famous female singers ranging from Nellie Furtado to k.d. lang to Celine Dion (I know, I know, Celine is such a weirdo, but what a voice).
Celebrity updates: Sylvester Stallone is 63 years old. I guessed this correctly before I looked it up. Roy Orbison died of a heart attack at the age of 52. I thought he was a lot older; he looked like he was in his late 60s, to me. Sandra Bullock's newly adopted baby is indeed an adorable fat-cheeked cherub. She and Jesse the Jilter started the adoption process almost four freaking years ago, and then BAM, just when the final papers are being signed, Jesse manages to ruin not only Sandra's Oscar moment of glory but their marriage, to boot.
I think a list needs to be made of all the women celebrities who have adopted babies on their own. Off the top of my head: Angelina Jolie, Sheryl Crowe, and now Sandra. But who else? I know there are a bunch more.
Health Insurance Tidbit from a recent episode of Bill Maher:
Question: What is the penalty if a health insurance company won't give someone insurance (or cancels it) due to a pre-existing condition?
Answer: They have to pay $100 a day until they give them the insurance.
Let's say someone needs chemo, and the cost of the chemo will be $200 a day.
Think about it.
But let's not end on that note. It's May 2nd and the weather in SF is balmy, caressing. My toes are not chilled today. There are many beautiful song duets in the world. Calla lilies are unfurling next to the birds of paradise.
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