I have twice now eaten at Ramesses, a new restaurant for Mediterranean cuisine in Hillcrest. Both times, the food was excellent. To-day, the sandwich that I had there was so good that I would have immediately ordered a second one were it not for the fact that I'd like to lose a few pounds. (Instead, I made a plan to go back to-morrow.)

Ramesses is at 3882 4th Avenue, in a small shopping center in the south-west orthant of the intersection with University Avenue.

Up-Date (20 October): Unfortunately, they stop serving sandwiches at 16:00, and I didn't get there until after 18:00. I ordered the same thing that I'd had on my first visit. This time, the quality was even higher, and the portion was notably more generous.

I went to various PetCo and PetSmart locations to-day, to get more things for taking care of a mouse. I have or am awaiting receipt of almost everything that I want except for the mouse itself.

While I was at a PetSmart, a girl came over to the area where rodents and birds were kept. Shortly thereäfter, a couple of employees appeared, and told her that they would not sell a rat to her, because they feared that she was going to give the rat to a snake. Apparently she was known to own a snake, and had bought a rat not many days ago. The girl responded with a dubious tale of having given away the snake. She was politely told that no rat would be sold to her. As she was leaving, I thanked the employees.

There was also an older man working there who kept pulling out a picture of his dog to show to people. This behavior was both amusing and charming.

The Crittertrail Mini Two that I ordered arrived to-day, as did the two water bottles that I ordered for use with the larger of the two carriers. I am pleased with the way that the Mini Two packs-up for storage or shipment. In any case, I could now in good conscience buy a small rodent, as I have a decent home in which to put it.

(The Mini Two has a handle such that it too could be used as a carrier, but I think that it would be best if the rodent felt that its home were stable.)

Unfortunately, I haven't found a local mouse breeder. I can buy a mouse from one of many pet stores, but I'd prefer to buy one from a breeder, as there are much the same issues with the breeding of exotic pets as with dogs and with cats — inhumane breeders and all that. Which is not to say that I would refuse to buy a mouse from, say, PetSmart, but that at least ceteris paribus I would rather buy from a breeder who allowed inspection of the environment in which the animals were bred and housed.

I had been letting my sideburns grow since mid-May. I reached Wolverine stage quite a while back, then started resembling someone in a late Nineteenth Century engraving or photograph. After that, I began to look like a bit-player in a western movie. Yester-day, I took my beard trimmer and trimmed them down. Here is how I look to-day: BTW, see the difference between the upper lid of my left and right eye? That difference develops when I need sleep; otherwise, the left eyelid looks more like the right, with flesh above the lid nearly covering it. The difference first appeared many years ago, during a very extended bout with flu and pneumonia. A doctor who looked at it found it rather mysterious.

I have ordered both a Crittertrail Mini Two and a Habitrail Mini. That might sound absurd, but it should be possible to connect the two, creating a relatively large habitat. And I could take just one or the other with me when I visit my parents. I also got a loft for the Habitrail, as my mice Bob and Ray used to like to sleep in the loft of the (hamster-sized) Habitrail in which I kept them. And I got a little side-chamber, as I'm going to see if I can coax the mouse into using that as a litter box. (If not, well, then he'll just have a side chamber.)

Although the rodent that I most want is a fat-tailed gerbil (Pachyuromys duprasi), they are illegal in California. In that context, I have been thinking increasingly of getting a mouse (Mus musculus) for myself.

I have some experience with keeping mice as pets; I had four when I was a teenager — first Aristotle, then Jacques (who was disliked by Aristotle and returned that dislike with hate), then Bob and Ray (brothers who loved each other). The Woman of Interest also had mice when she was a child, and she's offered some helpful advice, from her own experience.

In fact, I've started assembling things so that I will be prepared again to keep a mouse. I got a couple of carriers — one suitable for very short trips, the other large enough to serve as a home for a few days (or longer if the mouse doesn't spend all of its time in it) — a couple of water bottles for the larger carrier, a Silent Spinner wheel, and a clear ball in which the mouse can be placed and allowed to exercise out of the cage.

I still need to settle on whatever I will use as the regular home for the mouse. I like mouse-scaled Habitrails, but I notice that Super Pet (who produced the carriers and ball) makes available many sorts of replacement parts for their habitats, which can be connected to Habitrails.

I also want to have a first-aid kit at hand, though I obviously hope never to need it. And I think that I may get some rodent harnesses, such as those used for laboratory mice, to facilitate airplane travel.

One thing that I regret about my Jaxon safari hat is that it's not crushable — I cannot simply stuff it into a suitcase. So I was cruising the website of the Village Hat Shop, whereupon I found crushable wool Aussie hats on sale for just $15 apiece.

At that price, I decided that I should get three — one for myself, one for the Woman of Interest, and one for my father. I would also have got one for my mother, except that I don't know the size of her head.

So I stopped at the local store yester-day morning. Unfortunately, they had none in the appropriate size in-stock, but they took my name and number, and said that they would call if they some were found in the warehouse or at one of the other stores.

In the event, they called that after-noon to report that they now had three at the local store, being held in my name for a few days. I stopped again this morning, when they opened, and bought the hats.

Anyway, I thought that they gave very good service on some very inexpensive hats.

The Woman of Interest and I have been wrestling with the migration of her site to a new host. Naturally enough, the new hosting service began yester-day to up-date its servers, and we were stymied in our efforts for a while as their own migration ran into difficulties.

If everything has now gone well, then, as DNS tables are up-dated, visitors will be routed to a new site that is indistinguishable to them from þe olde Site. If something has gone badly then, well, we will be at the task of fixing things.

Up-Date (20:18PDT): The relevant change is probably still propagating amongst DNS tables; but, otherwise, the move seems to have been successful. The new site seems virtually identical from the perspective of a visitor.

One often hears or reads of a problem of no hot water, where water will flow from the hot-water tap, but it won't be hot water.

Early this morning, I had a rather more unusual experience of no cold water. Water flowed from the cold-water taps, but it was scalding hot.

The problem seemed solved later, but when I was showering this after-noon it briefly recurred — not something that one especially wants during a shower.

Evidently a valve failure caused an input pipe to function as an output pipe. I wonder how far up-stream the hot water got.

In the wake of a ruling by the Supreme Court of the State of California that required the state to recognize and effect same-sex marriage, there is a measure, Proposition 8, on the ballot to amend the state constitution to halt recognition of further same-sex marriages. I oppose this measure, though (as I have stated various places) what I really want is for the state to get out of the marriage business altogether, and to treat marriages simply as private contracts. (I think that participants should see marriage as far more, but that's not the business of the state.)

This after-noon, I stopped at the San Diego headquarters of Vote No on Prop 8 to buy a couple of bumper-stickers, one to actually slap on a bumper, and one to put on the case of my note-book computer.

The guy who greeted me there was a fool. Instead of just selling me a couple of bumper-stickers, he tried very aggressively to get me to make a substantial donation, starting with the idea that I should give them the equivalent of a dollar an day for a year, by donatiing $365. There isn't a fr__king year left until the election; there's about 40 days. Had he begun by suggesting a $40 donation, well, I might have gone along with that; as it was, he had my back up, and I said no to the other sums that he suggested. I gave them $5 and they gave me the two bumper-stickers that I'd sought. In addition to the bumper-stickers, I left with considerable annoyance.

Another irksome thing, not the fault of Vote No on Prop 8, was that I had to fill-out a d_mn'd form, because I'd made a political contribution, however small. It was a gross violation of my rights as acknowledged by the First and Fourteenth Amendments, but if I didn't fill-out that form, and truthfully, then the money could be confiscated by the state.