Monday, March 31, 2014


                             WHO, ME? JEALOUS?     


     All right, I admit it: I’m jealous. Yup. Jealous. I think that’s a sin, but I don’t remember which kind. Jealousy is bad--I know that. Jealousy is for people who don’t believe in themselves. Well, I believe in myself most of the time, especially on good hair days. But, let’s face it, we are all a little jealous of someone at some time in our lives. Maybe I should just use the technique I read about years ago: save up all my jealousy, put it in an imaginary bag and empty it on one given day a month, pour that puppy out and just wallow in the ugly. Scream it out. Cry it out. Stomp it out. Get it out. Then be done with it. Are you curious to know the object of my jealousy by now? Well, I will tell you anyway. I am jealous of birds. Yup, birds.

    Think about it. You can fly around in the sky, and look down on everyone. This means  that every effen person in the world is looking up to you! Even Elvis didn’t enjoy that luxury. Then you can perch anywhere you want from a tree branch to a Queen’s shoulder. If you don’t like the person, you can just dump on them from above, and fly away--no chance of getting caught. You don’t need much to eat, so you don’t have to bother with coupons, and your life span is relatively short, so you don’t have to worry about long term care insurance. 

     You can move your family anywhere in the world without a van. No nests to pack, no food to worry about and no forwarding address necessary. You don’t have to join a Newcomers club because you’ll be moving on way before they’ve processed your beak.
You can lay eggs, something no human will ever be able to do--at least not in nests.

     There are things you cannot do, however, and I find this comforting. You cannot take a selfie sans or avec worm. You cannot take advantage of low mortgage rates, and you cannot wear stilettos like yours truly. You can’t taste my incredible caramel delight ice cream or watch I Love Lucy reruns. Never mind. I don’t want to be you anymore. omg. Why are you flying so low? You are coming straight toward me. Oh, no.