No Apologies

I don't know if I really have any business being here. Who the hell wants to read about my life and times? Not terribly interesting, I can assure you. I don't think I will write anything that will change your life, or mine, for that matter.
I have been inspired by my cousin, Reesie, who introduced me to the wonderful world of Blogging. She is very funny, and I find myself compelled to read her lengthy blog missives, even though very little of what she reports on relates personally to me. What I really like, though, is that she is completely unapologetic about the fact that she's letting off steam about things that matter to her, and quite possibly, only to her.
So, am I not entitled to do the same? Reesie, I'm taking a page from your book and creating a blog of my own.
To that end...I've decided to make this a blog entry about the virtues of making no apologies for your feelings, actions, and worldview in general!
So, here are a few things about which I should perhaps feel guilty, but for which I refuse to feel guilty.
1. I just returned home to find a box from LLBean. I knew exactly what was inside of the box. My beautiful, closed-back red leather clogs. I cannot tell you how long I have coveted red clogs. I make routine stops to the Clog Shop in Porter Square (Cambridge) and endure the harassment from the strange owner time and time again. She always calls the attention of her entire staff and any customer who happens to be on-hand to a rather large bone protrusion on my heels. Now, most shoe store owners might use some more tact in dealing with a customer who has a "unique" foot situation. But not this broad. Chirst, every time I go in there, I basically feel like my feet are going to become a highlighted subject on some "Medical Mysteries" show on The Discovery Channel or something. Anyway, I never have the stomach to proceed with the try-on because I start worrying about what full-volume criticism might make its way from her mouth as I do so. God forbid the shoes don't fit. Then I'll have to listen to her tell me that I should consider surgery or something. Maybe she should consider a lobotomy. I digress. (You might as well be warned that I digress a lot!) Anyway, I was on the LL Bean website doing some Christmas shopping (I Swear!) and I came across red leather clogs. They carry them in my size (miracle of miracles). They were 55 dollars. The ones in Cambridge are 110. I decided to go for it. I bought myself a pair of 55 dollar clogs when I should be concentrating my spending on those around me. But, in an effort to be completely unapologetic, I'm going to blow off any feelings of guilt and enjoy my new red kicks!
2. While I'm on the subject of shopping. I might as well fess up to adhering to a strick one fer-one fer policy during this holiday shopping season. In other words, for every gift I buy for a friend or relative, I buy "one fer" myself! Screw the guilt, though. I'm living without apology here kids!
3. I refuse to apologize for drinking way too much Diet Pepsi and far too little water.
4. Absolutely no guilty will come of the decadent amount of money I spend on my gym membership each month. At least I go frequently and get my money's worth. Shoot, even if I did not go frequently, I would not apologize.
5. I don't feel guilty for coming off my one-month beer fast. Those were tough times! Ha ha.
6. I won't apologize for drinking 3 Cambridge Pumpkin Ales last night and getting a little tipsy.
7. No apologies will be forthcoming over the fact that I am completely addiced to the Donald Trump Apprentice show!
8. Don't look for any apologies from me for using about 60 illegal discount coupons at Filene's during my shopping trip!
9. No apologies for anything at all!

There! That feels much better.

And I should tip my hat in the direction of my sister, who, during our day-after-thanksgiving shopping bonanza, gave a smart allec response to a woman who copped a 'tude with her in the mall. My sister was carrying around about 60 boxes of toys and gifts for her kids. Naturally, moving about the mens shirt department was a bit of a challenge. Maybe a circus contortionist could have executed the daring stunt, but she my sister prooved herself to be far less adept at the technical aspects of such tricky navigation. She ended up knocking over a few shirts from a display table. In the long run, a pretty minimal casualty. Some self-righteous BE-HOTCH gave her a dirty look and sneered, "Oh that's nice." My sister never missed a beat, turned to the woman and said, "Oh you liked that did you? Well, there's lots more where that came from!"

And she didn't look one bit apologetic as she reported the incident to me!