Too bad Utah is Pretty; I will miss it

Sometimes when I get really mad at someone or if they offend me, I decide right then and there that I will never talk to that person again. Generally, my resolve dissolves when I realize it is not practical to never speak to my brother or my cat again, e.g. I stay mad for a while, hold a grudge for longer, and then generally let it go. One of the things that I neither like nor understand about myself is that I'm not terribly forgiving. I can forgive small infractions and those things that people do because they're human -- especially if whatever it is doesn't really affect me all that much. But when I feel offended, betrayed, or wounded on a more profound level, all bets are off.
Rather than turn this blog into a confessional, I think I'll just write what I intended to write. I read an article about the lovely state of Utah and its anti-gay legislature/majority populace. And the newspaper that published a full-page ad comparing the gays to druggies and hookers (huh?) [I haven't seen the ad yet]. Then I started to wonder what the heck is wrong with people. Then I wondered if maybe there really IS something wrong with being gay and that's why the people are throwing the Lord's smiting around. [Seriously, Utah. Maybe if you could just explain why you hate the gays so much, I could figure out if maybe I should add 'being gay' to my reasons for the self-loathing I already do. The least you could do, Utah, is keep the hatred to yourself. California loves the gays. Don't you watch T.V.?]

Then I got mad.

Then I decided I'm never going to Utah again, ever.

Even though it's pretty. Even though it's on the way to Colorado where my family lives. (Maybe if you're from Utah, and you're reading this, you could lobby your legislature to split the state into two so that the pretty, southern parts of the state were still available to reasonable people.)