mother's day?

This evening I stepped out into the crisp Novato air to clear my mind, and prayed for a better year next year. Hiking up Miwok Hill in the end-of-day glow, I recognized that I have so much to be thankful for, and yet I can't help but think that this year the karmic moderators have really had it out for my family.
This Mother's Day, my mom will be lying in bed trying very hard not to vomit. Her art studio at Hamilton Field will be closed, and the Open Studios visitors will assume that she is out having joyous times with her children, when in reality she will be shrouded in blankets in a dark room. There will be no Sandy dog to kiss her cheeks, and the chocolate cake with fresh flowers that I bought her will remain in its box in the back of the refrigerator. Dad, Mark and I will tiptoe around the house, hoping that she falls asleep and dreams of better times.

Ruining my life

Well, not really. But these two lovebirds are making it insanely difficult to find an apartment in the city... and why? Why are people so prejudiced against two fuzzy little snugglers (who happen to be disturbingly adept at destroying household items with their razor-sharp jaws)? I just don't understand it. So basically, the landlords in San Francisco, the city of smugness (and tolerance?), are encouraging me to lie about my furry little friends. I feel so dirty, throwing Ghandi's principle of satyagraha (firmness in truth) right out the window... I haven't even moved yet, and already the city is denigrating my value system.