Oops, I Did It Again...

...or, should I say, I am GOING to do it again. Yes folks, I am going to rant a little. Alright, so my rant will be more like a fuss really, but fuss I shall. As a reward for putting up with me, I offer up these photos of the neighborhood geese. The sun was so bright this afternoon and these lords and ladies had no trouble enjoying it. Ah, sweet, blissful peace... But peace is fleeting so fasten your safety belts. I am about to raise a bit of fuss. In the tradition of a good old fashioned, no one can do it better than her, wonderful Kari rant, I want to complain! I can hear you asking one another, "What do WE look like? The freaking complaint department?" Aha, no! But you are here and you are my friends so I hope you will tolerate a little vent. I am so lucky to have all of you here... After all, 10s of thousands of people read this blog each day. No? Oh, it's more like 10s of hundreds? Of 10s? 7? Okay, OKAY! So it is just my brother and HE only reads it every other Thursday, except during the month of February. Ah, but I am delusional so off we go... Sympathy. It is a simple word. The fact or power of sharing the feelings of another. To understand their sorrow or trouble; compassion, or commiseration. Sympathy is a social affinity in which one person stands with another person, closely understanding her or his feelings. Sympathy exists when the feelings or emotions of one person are deeply understood and even appreciated by another person. I was recently told that I am a cruel person, a person whose heart holds no sympathy for her fellow man. And why was I told this? WHY you ask? Okay, you probably didn't ask but I will tell you anyway. I am a cruel unsympathetic person because I do not feel sorry for Britney Spears. Hm, I suppose that is not exactly true. I do have sympathy for her if, and only if, she has a true mental illness that has caused her erratic behaviors...her many, multiple and persistent erratic behaviors. Do I feel sorry for her sons? Oh yes, very much so. Those poor little things are the innocent pawns in a very sick game. But beyond that I really do not care what is going on in Ms. Spears life. Do I feel any real sympathy for her because the paparazzi pesters her? Heck, they pester George Clooney too and he has yet to flash them his pantie less bum. Dag nab it all to heck. Um...where was I? Oh, but do I have sympathy for someone who blew through more money in a year than most hard working people will see their entire lives? Someone who, when nearing each proverbial fork in the road of life, made the incorrect choice as to which direction to take? Nope. Oh, but Susie Q. She did all of those things because of her *baggage*. Now, what the heck do suitcases have to do with this? No, B.A.G.G.A.G.E. The emotional kind. Uh, SHE has baggage? The last time I checked, most of us have some sort of baggage. Some have more, some less, some much more serious than others but whether we drag our emotional stuff around in Louis Vuitton or a plastic sack from Walgreen's, we ALL have emotional *stuff* to deal with. So, now one can make any sort of bad decision and never have to take one iota of responsibility for those decisions? Wow. Oh, but of course, it does not work that way with those of us out here in middle America or middle Zambia, Finland or Thailand either. We non-celebrities are held to a much more stringent set of rules. Sympathy? Pity? I have oodles of sympathy for those who truly deserve it. People like the young serviceman who has lost his leg due to an IED in Iraq, the lovely young woman who was brutally raped and left for dead, the child who is suffering the effects of great physical abuse at the hands of those in whom he should have been able to trust. I have sympathy for the young man whose mother and father's lives were taken by a drunk driver, the woman whose husband left her, taking with him all of their life savings leaving her virtually penniless. I have tremendous sympathy for the parents of a 17 year old boy who has been diagnosed with inoperable cancer and has but a few weeks to live. I have great sympathy for people who suffer losses, human and material, to natural disasters, fire and crime. For people who struggle with illnesses, injuries and pain. But the difference is this...none of the people I mentioned asks for sympathy. They wish no pity. They take what life has given them and move forward. Oh yes, there are set backs and the need for help here and there but they never ask for sympathy. Prayers and love yes. Anyone who needs help has my prayers, even Britney, but sympathy?

~Coleen and the slimy rat~

Now on to another with whom I refuse to sympathize. Coleen Sullivan. The former anchor of our local NBC affiliate is romantically involved with Princess Diana's younger brother, Charles. The same folks who felt I was eerily despicable NOT to sympathize with Britney's problems, were aghast that I held no pity for the former newswoman. I ran into Coleen once or twice. She admired my dog. She is stunningly beautiful. I enjoyed her on my evening news. But the last time I checked, she was a grown woman. She knew, when visiting the Spencer home, Althorp, prior to the Diana exhibit making an appearance in Dayton, that the Earl was married and that his wife was expecting a baby. She knew this when she began her relationship with the Earl. "But Susie Q! He is a slimy rat and charmed the poor girl right into his wicked love trap." Hm...now, Charles the Earl may well be a rat, slimy or otherwise. That is not up to me to decide. But well educated, career news journalist Coleen, a poor defenseless woman who was led astray by the deviant British Earl? Come on. Save your sympathy cards please. Whew. Well, I don't know about you but I feel ever so much better. However, there is just one more thing I need to fuss about. This morning, as I dried my hair and applied a little mascara to my wispy, too, too blond eyelashes, the television droned mindlessly on in the next room. I paid scant attention to it until I heard this statement from a, so called, designer and stylist to the stars. "I find the clothes that plump gals wear sorely lacking in panache and trendiness. Too many of them wear jeans and trousers WITH elastic pieces. UGH! But, if hard pressed, *I* will *allow* them to do so but only if they cover their waists with a shirt, jacket or sweater." Whew. All of that advice for free! But you see "Mr. Stylist To The Stars", I did not ask you for your advice and I really do NOT need your consent (or that of anyone else for that matter) to wear something with elastic. Or lacking panache. It fact, I refuse to but anything WITH panache. And the stars actually LISTEN to this guy? No wonder so many of them have problems. For that they get a little of my sympathy. A quarter of a teaspoon full. More or less. So now my dear blogger buddies, my fussy rant vent has come to an end. (Grateful cheers are heard across the globe) I hope your week is going nicely and that you are staying well. Smile as often as you can and give a few of them away to others. Oh, and if you see a pantie less George Clooney, give me a call. Collect.

Why Aren't You In Bed Girl?

A very reasonable & intelligent question!

It is just a shame that my answer is neither reasonable nor intelligent!

Insomnia? A headache? Hot flashes? Fire Ants? Snoring doggie? Alien invasion? No, nothing that normal.

My mind is simply racing tonight and I just can not sleep. I miss Bill. Yep. There. I said it. I miss my husband. I miss his snoring. I miss his socks on the floor.

In the aftermath of today's job news, I am missing him so powerfully that sleep is virtually impossible. I will crash (and probably burn) eventually but I have nowhere to go tomorrow so a nap might be in the offing. Ya thunk?

So, in the interim, I threw quite the festive Pity Party. Unfortunately, all the invited guests are off in various corners of the house, slumbering under vintage quilts and fluffy comforters.

Dan, Grace, Kip, Lucy and even little Henry all sent "Regrets" so I was forced to frolic all by my lonesome. But hey! More food for me!

First came the chocolates. A HUGE box of unopened Esther Price dark chocolate creams. No, I didn't eat them all but I made a dent. A crater actually. And no. I feel absolutely no remorse about it. Okay. Maybe just a wee bit. No...that wasn't remorse I felt, just indigestion.

Then came the Mikesell's Groovy potato chips. And the dip. French Onion to be exact. Hey! They were left over from the holidays and I had to clean out the refrigerator & pantry anyway. I did it for the sake of my family. I wouldn't want them to eat anything that might be past it's prime. I did it out of love. Stop snickering. I DID!

Of course, no party is complete without crudite'. You know those tiny, sweet pickles? There were only 3 left in the jar and it was taking up much too much space in the fridge.

And that celery would have just gone to waste. Yeah, yeah, those baby carrots too. And the cheese cubes. We were down to the last 15 in the bag. They were just taking up much needed ice cold real estate.

Washed them all down with Coca Cola, Root Beer and Ginger Ale. Uh huh. The last 3 cans and yes. I was doing it to free up space. I am all about organizing and re-arranging. Totally unselfish on my part.

Okay, I am starting feel a little drowsy. Groggy even. I guess it is time to put this party guest to bed. Move over Kip, you party pooping pet.

Night all....er...morning...er...well, see ya'll later. Have a good Thursday. I'll be thinking aboutcha.

Hugs,

Suzie Q