I'm just starting to grasp how intense a day Monday was. Not only did we attend a funeral visitation, but my husband schooled me on the Supreme Court decision of the day. Now, this morning I am all in a dither about Internet porn, but on Monday I was a. flabbergasted that Scalia seemed to be deciding against the Bush administration b. intrigued that O'Connor led the way and in doing so was quite anti-war and c. not surprised that Thomas stood by his man.

Whether or not Hamdi is a threat to the freedoms that we are supposedly fighting for in Iraq, he does deserve some kind of hearing. I fear due process in these situations because I know that someone can - and will - slip through the cracks and wreak havoc on our current, tentative stability here at home. Fearing due process is not opposing it though, and the framers would remind us that back in the day, when the Brits tried to take their freedom away, the value of a fair judicial system was never more evident. Yes, President Bush, even in wartime.

Today was a good friend's mom's funeral. The funeral was very different, very funny, very Baptist, and very moving. Ultimately, it seemed to celebrate the life lived and comfort those left behind. I never know exactly how to act at a funeral - but at least I was sober. At the visitation I had imbibed a glass of cheap-ass wine and was saying things backward and sweating a lot. Still, my presence seemed to cheer and was particularly enjoyed by the youngster of the grieveing party, who is my daughter's friend. I really would do just about anything for these folks.

One starts to wonder - when will my funeral occur? When will I next have to attend a funeral? When will I be the one grieving? I have an obsessive habit of worrying about leaving my loved ones behind and of losing them so I wonder a lot. Funerals exacerbate my condition, but they also give me a sense of ease, too. The ceremony of it all is comforting and there is a great tradition in honoring the dead, much as we honor a birth or a marriage. For all my mixed feelings about church, there is certainly a feeling of importance and worth when a funeral is held in a sanctuary. I assume I will want to be remembered in a church service. With quirks, but a church service nonetheless.

Whither thou, Whilst? Whilst is a word that, upon hearing, can qualify for a listener the speaker's interests and intelligence level. I do truly believe that. That said, I also enjoy a hearty "motherfucker" tossed into common conversation, and I often choose my friends based on their usage of that fair word.

There is nothing to say about my day today, except that I was without children and still managed to be busy. Knowing lots of people and having lots of obligations keeps one far too busy. I would like to move away. Not too far, or very far, but away. Not for too long, or maybe for forever. It is important to me that we be mobile. My children hate this thought, and wish that I would never bring it up again. But I have a wandering foot and have always been jealous of those who have left me behind. Many have. Now I wish to be the one leaving.

My day will become more interesting and, I fear, more tragic, later this evening. I am to attend a "visitation" for a friend's dearly departed mother. I have no problem going to a visitation nor a funeral and in fact, I think sometimes that attending these events makes one appreciate the times when one is not attending such an event all the more. Just the other day - just before I found out about my friend's mother's death - I thought, "how nice that I am sitting here with a cold drink on a hot day and do not have to be in mourning clothes and attending a funeral."

Maybe that is what life is all about - as we reach middle-age anyway. Remembering that there are places and states we'd rather not be in during a given moment or period of time, and being grateful for just that.