Evil Sweet Innocence.

I routinely blab about my desire to lose some weight and eat healthy. It’s been somewhat difficult following that path the past week or two, mostly because I’m lazy, a little bit due to the weather and somewhat because of my surgery two weeks ago. However, there is one other factor contributing to my binging ways.

It’s Girl Scout Cookies season.

Earl and I had thought that we had made it through Girl Scout Cookies season unscathed. “We made it through without a ton of Simoas!” “Thin Mints be damned, we’re going to be thin!”

Last Sunday Earl and I did a little shopping. On our way out of Media Play, I noticed a card table stacked with colorful boxes, a hand lettered decorative sign and a cute young lady decorated with pins and badges like a four star general, accompanied by her adult chaperone. She smiled an innocent little smile and asked “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”

How can you say no to that innocent face.

Being victims of Girl Scout Cookies seasons of past, we instantly noticed that there was a new type of cookies this year. I’d tell you the name, but the box never made it home. These cookies, as described by our salesperson, “if you like icing and cinnamon with a touch of strawberry, these cookies are for you” were absolutely delightful. Earl and I weren’t even out of the store parking lot before the plastic was removed and we were downing the cookies.

As I wiped the crumbs off my face with my sleeve, eyes glazed in sugar induced nirvana, I gazed at the back of the box looking at the nutrition information. “200 calories”. Two hundred? For this whole box?

Silly me. For two cookies. I didn’t even want to venture into fat grams land.

Oh well. That was the best 1,200 calories pig fest I had enjoyed in a long while. You’d think that we had consumed our $3.00 purchase quickly and that the Girl Scout Cookies threat was over with for the year.

No.

We’d actually purchased four, as in one, two, three, four, as in thousands of calories, as in Thin Mints, Simoas, Peanut Butter somethings and these cookies I can’t remember the name of.

Maybe we’ll have better luck next year.

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A Philosophical Musing.

At work we have a 13-inch television that constantly shows CNN. The volume is turned all the way down, so we kind of have to improvise with what’s going on with the screen. Unfortunately, it’s been rather easy this week. It’s all about Terri Schiavo.

I understand that Mrs. Schiavo’s family is going through a lot of turmoil, to put it mildly. I understand that there are many ways you can look at the situation. I guess I’ll have to throw my two cents into the ring.

I believe that people should be able to do what they want without fear of human reprisal, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. That’s why I am reading and studying wicca, the wiccan rede is “An ye harm none, do what ye will.” If everyone believed in that and would just mind their own business, the world would be a better place.

As I see it, Mrs. Schiavo’s lungs are functioning without mechanical assistance. Her heart beats as a normal heart would, again without medical assistance. They say her brain activity is minimal. But she still has brain activity. Her time has not come, for if it had she would no longer be with us. She would have crossed to the other side by now.

I do not believe the government should be involved with this situation. Quite frankly, it’s none of our business and really shouldn’t be plastered all over the cable news networks, network news, newspapers and internet. This is for the family to sort out without legal, public or media intervention. That being said, I do not believe Terri Schiavo should be lying in a bed starving to death. I can not imagine what her husband is going through. Nor her parents. But I do know that her heart still beats and her lungs still function. Again, it would appear that her time has not come. And those that are living should receive food. God, the Goddess, the Universe, whomever you pray to, is all-perfect. They do not make mistakes. Terri Schiavo is here for a reason. When her time comes, she shouldn’t die of hunger.