I need shoes. Do I want them? Nope. I don't do shoes. Shoes are to make sure your feet don't get hurt in the real world. I hate shoes. I hate shopping for shoes.
But I need a pair.
White flats, to be precise. I realize I can't actually get married in my bare feet, no matter how much I'd prefer it. The sidewalks and parking lot outside of the building are gravel, so the feet will need protection. Thus, white flats.
How many times was I told today that I simply can't get married in flats? "Oh honey, you've just got to wear heels for your wedding!" Oh, really? Key word there: MY wedding. Who do you think YOU are to tell me what to do at MY wedding? Whoops, getting a little too into it there... woosah. Oh, and, not that it's any of your business, but he and I are the same height... I'm a tall woman to begin with. Stilettos are not going to work for me, never mind the fact that I can't walk in the damn things. A tomboy childhood and knee surgery will do that to a girl.
So, yes, I'm getting married in flats.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Sheep and Sheepdogs
"What follows is a communication attributed to Charles Grennel who, in response to a college student's objection to a memorial for Medal of Honor recipient Colonel Gregory (Pappy) Boyington, U. S. Marine Corps (Deceased), decided to write to the student and explain her error in logic. The student, identified as Jill Edwards, is said to have been but one of several protesting students enrolled at the University of Washington. For his part, Major Charles Grennel, Army of the United States, was a principal participant in the success of the 2005 Iraqi elections.
To: Edwards, Jill
(student, UW)
Subject: Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs
Miss Edwards, I read of your "student activity" regarding the proposed memorial to Col. Greg Boyington, USMC and a Medal of Honor winner. I suspect you will receive a bellyful of angry e-mails from conservative folks like me.
You may be too young to appreciate fully the sacrifices of generations of servicemen and servicewomen on whose shoulders you and your fellow students stand. I forgive you for the untutored ways of youth and your naivete. It may be that you are, simply, a sheep. There's no dishonor in being a sheep -- as long as you know and accept what you are.
William J. Bennett, in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997 said: "Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident." We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.
Then there are the wolves and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy. Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You had better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.
Then there are sheepdogs and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf. If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the uncharted path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.
We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting armed police in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.
The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot, and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog that intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa." Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.
The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances, they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off them.
This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones.
Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." You want to be able to make a difference. There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage, only one, and that is that his ability to survive in a hostile environment.
There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders, and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped posture, passive behavior, and a lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.
Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When they learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd and the other passengers confronted the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people, and parents - from sheep to sheepdogs; together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.
"There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke.
Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn't have a choice.
But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision. If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust, or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.
This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between.
Since 9-11, almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. It's ok to be a sheep, but do not kick the sheep dog. Indeed, the sheep dog may just run a little harder, strive to protect a little better and be fully prepared to pay an ultimate price in battle and spirit with the sheep moving from "baa" to "thanks."
We do not call for gifts or freedoms beyond our lot. We just need a small pat on the head, a smile, and a thank you to fill the emotional tank, which is drained protecting the sheep. And when our number is called by "The Almighty," and day retreats into night, a small prayer before the heavens just may be in order to say thanks for letting you continue to be a sheep. And be grateful for the thousands, the millions, of American sheepdogs who permit you the freedom to express even bad ideas."
This has been borrowed, forwarded, copied, and borrowed again; I got it from a friend on a networking site. Here's a March 2006 article I found about this situation, after searching Google. Here's more info on Pappy himself, and the Feb. 28, 2006 article in the Seattle Times.
After more searching, I found that the resolution failed to pass mainly because of the feeling that any memorial should honor all eight of UW's Medal of Honor recipients (the most of any state school in the nation). On April 4, Visions of Valor, a traveling photography exhibit with a permanent display at the Pentagon, opened in the UW library as a benefit for the memorial. Three Medal of Honor recipients who are also UW alumni spoke at the exhibit's opening reception. The task force in charge of the memorial is nearly or already at its fundraising goal of $100,000.
I'm glad to see this was merely a case of a few out-of-context quotes, and that all eight of their distinguished alumni will be honored instead of just one (or none at all!). The media sure likes to blow things out of proportion and create a frenzy, doesn't it? Sometimes it's really just a misunderstanding. Granted, some of the students who voted against the memorial did so because they don't "believe" in war or the military, but keep in mind that the second proposal for a larger, more inclusive memorial did pass, despite the pacifists on the student senate.
There's the background on MAJ Grennel's response; now here are my feelings.
I'm a sheepdog. I'm injured, I'm lame, I can't perform the mission... but I'm a sheepdog. After I was turned down by every military branch because of my surgery, I took a few months to mourn the loss of my dream. The military was my Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C... there was no civilian plan. Now that the military was closed to me, I had to figure out what to do next. The civilian world felt entirely alien to me. True, I wasn't a "real" military brat since my father separated before I was born, but I was raised like one, sans the moving around. Coming to this military college simply felt right to me. I'm lucky to be able to stay here, since there is a civilian contingent to this school. I'm feeling out how I can still contribute to the mission as a civilian, and MAJ Grennel mentioned law enforcement along with the military in his writing. Sniffing out the wolves in sheep's clothing, the domestic threats hiding in the herd, is just as important as standing guard against foreign threats, the wolves who come from the woods. Sometimes people lose sight of that.
Charlie Mike.
To: Edwards, Jill
(student, UW)
Subject: Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs
Miss Edwards, I read of your "student activity" regarding the proposed memorial to Col. Greg Boyington, USMC and a Medal of Honor winner. I suspect you will receive a bellyful of angry e-mails from conservative folks like me.
You may be too young to appreciate fully the sacrifices of generations of servicemen and servicewomen on whose shoulders you and your fellow students stand. I forgive you for the untutored ways of youth and your naivete. It may be that you are, simply, a sheep. There's no dishonor in being a sheep -- as long as you know and accept what you are.
William J. Bennett, in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997 said: "Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident." We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.
Then there are the wolves and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy. Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You had better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.
Then there are sheepdogs and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf. If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the uncharted path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.
We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting armed police in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.
The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot, and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog that intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa." Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.
The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances, they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off them.
This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones.
Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." You want to be able to make a difference. There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage, only one, and that is that his ability to survive in a hostile environment.
There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders, and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped posture, passive behavior, and a lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.
Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When they learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd and the other passengers confronted the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people, and parents - from sheep to sheepdogs; together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.
"There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke.
Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn't have a choice.
But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision. If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust, or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.
This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between.
Since 9-11, almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. It's ok to be a sheep, but do not kick the sheep dog. Indeed, the sheep dog may just run a little harder, strive to protect a little better and be fully prepared to pay an ultimate price in battle and spirit with the sheep moving from "baa" to "thanks."
We do not call for gifts or freedoms beyond our lot. We just need a small pat on the head, a smile, and a thank you to fill the emotional tank, which is drained protecting the sheep. And when our number is called by "The Almighty," and day retreats into night, a small prayer before the heavens just may be in order to say thanks for letting you continue to be a sheep. And be grateful for the thousands, the millions, of American sheepdogs who permit you the freedom to express even bad ideas."
This has been borrowed, forwarded, copied, and borrowed again; I got it from a friend on a networking site. Here's a March 2006 article I found about this situation, after searching Google. Here's more info on Pappy himself, and the Feb. 28, 2006 article in the Seattle Times.
After more searching, I found that the resolution failed to pass mainly because of the feeling that any memorial should honor all eight of UW's Medal of Honor recipients (the most of any state school in the nation). On April 4, Visions of Valor, a traveling photography exhibit with a permanent display at the Pentagon, opened in the UW library as a benefit for the memorial. Three Medal of Honor recipients who are also UW alumni spoke at the exhibit's opening reception. The task force in charge of the memorial is nearly or already at its fundraising goal of $100,000.
I'm glad to see this was merely a case of a few out-of-context quotes, and that all eight of their distinguished alumni will be honored instead of just one (or none at all!). The media sure likes to blow things out of proportion and create a frenzy, doesn't it? Sometimes it's really just a misunderstanding. Granted, some of the students who voted against the memorial did so because they don't "believe" in war or the military, but keep in mind that the second proposal for a larger, more inclusive memorial did pass, despite the pacifists on the student senate.
There's the background on MAJ Grennel's response; now here are my feelings.
I'm a sheepdog. I'm injured, I'm lame, I can't perform the mission... but I'm a sheepdog. After I was turned down by every military branch because of my surgery, I took a few months to mourn the loss of my dream. The military was my Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C... there was no civilian plan. Now that the military was closed to me, I had to figure out what to do next. The civilian world felt entirely alien to me. True, I wasn't a "real" military brat since my father separated before I was born, but I was raised like one, sans the moving around. Coming to this military college simply felt right to me. I'm lucky to be able to stay here, since there is a civilian contingent to this school. I'm feeling out how I can still contribute to the mission as a civilian, and MAJ Grennel mentioned law enforcement along with the military in his writing. Sniffing out the wolves in sheep's clothing, the domestic threats hiding in the herd, is just as important as standing guard against foreign threats, the wolves who come from the woods. Sometimes people lose sight of that.
Charlie Mike.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Compliments
Why do we compliment people on things they have no control over? To me, that's like saying the starving children in Africa (or India, China, America) brought it on themselves. It's not their fault, and you didn't choose your lovely eyes.
Now, there's a difference in complimenting a singer on her naturally beautiful voice, and acknowledging her time and effort to learn to read music, expand her range, and pursue a career. Those are the singer's real accomplishments. I used to get in trouble when I was younger for being rude when I wouldn't thank someone for complimenting me on my hair color or eye color or height. I felt silly thanking someone for stating their opinion when I didn't ask for it, or taking credit for something I had no control over. I learned to hold my own opinion of this silently and bow to society's expectations. It still doesn't make any sense to me, but I know enough to keep my mouth shut in public.
Now, there's a difference in complimenting a singer on her naturally beautiful voice, and acknowledging her time and effort to learn to read music, expand her range, and pursue a career. Those are the singer's real accomplishments. I used to get in trouble when I was younger for being rude when I wouldn't thank someone for complimenting me on my hair color or eye color or height. I felt silly thanking someone for stating their opinion when I didn't ask for it, or taking credit for something I had no control over. I learned to hold my own opinion of this silently and bow to society's expectations. It still doesn't make any sense to me, but I know enough to keep my mouth shut in public.
Eyes and Windows
Eyes truly are windows to something deeper--personality, emotions, the soul if you prefer. Color ranges widely, of course, but I've found that within the color groups (blue, green, brown, etc.) no shade is precisely like another. Visit an art supply store and rest easy knowing that the tube of ceylon blue acrylic paint you buy there will be the exact same hue as a tube of ceylon blue you buy at another store. Eye color is just as unique as the DNA that dictates it.
I went to high school with a girl whose eyes were the color of a brand-new baby spring leaf and glowed like sunlight filtering through chlorophyll. I have never seen another pair of eyes like hers. A boy I met on a church group trip claimed dark-chocolate eyes, darker than milk chocolate but just short of black. What made them particularly usual was that he was quite the light-haired, fair-skinned type otherwise. Having been adopted, he had no way of figuring out how that combination came about. Blogdaddy's eyes are like blue ore, with flecks of silver reflecting the light at odd angles, much like an unpolished piece of quartz. The intensity of his personality, his restlessness, the constant thought, and never-ending movement of his body makes those flecks glint and shine. It scares me to think of what it would mean if his eyes ever stopped sparking. The Guardian's eyes change color, hopping back and forth from green to blue, sometimes several times in a day. A few rare times, however, an evil shade of dark orange spreads outward from his pupils. I'm not kidding--I've seen it.
My favorite pair of eyes are the color of deep clover honey when it's been sitting in the jar for a while and is close to crystallization. When he looks at me they warm, like a soft light shone through the bottom of the honey jar. They darken when he's worried about something, or in a bad mood. From a distance they seem to be a simple brown--only up close do they show their true hue.
I love waking up to those honey eyes.
I went to high school with a girl whose eyes were the color of a brand-new baby spring leaf and glowed like sunlight filtering through chlorophyll. I have never seen another pair of eyes like hers. A boy I met on a church group trip claimed dark-chocolate eyes, darker than milk chocolate but just short of black. What made them particularly usual was that he was quite the light-haired, fair-skinned type otherwise. Having been adopted, he had no way of figuring out how that combination came about. Blogdaddy's eyes are like blue ore, with flecks of silver reflecting the light at odd angles, much like an unpolished piece of quartz. The intensity of his personality, his restlessness, the constant thought, and never-ending movement of his body makes those flecks glint and shine. It scares me to think of what it would mean if his eyes ever stopped sparking. The Guardian's eyes change color, hopping back and forth from green to blue, sometimes several times in a day. A few rare times, however, an evil shade of dark orange spreads outward from his pupils. I'm not kidding--I've seen it.
My favorite pair of eyes are the color of deep clover honey when it's been sitting in the jar for a while and is close to crystallization. When he looks at me they warm, like a soft light shone through the bottom of the honey jar. They darken when he's worried about something, or in a bad mood. From a distance they seem to be a simple brown--only up close do they show their true hue.
I love waking up to those honey eyes.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Oops
As the big event gets closer and closer, I get more and more stressed out. I think there's probably a mathematical equation to show the proportion, but don't tell me about it; I'll just get stressed about my stress level. I had two different fights with two different key players this week... that wasn't fun. I was about to blame the lack of posts on the planning and the stress, but RSM keeps plugging right along, and he's much more stressed than I am. He's got an actual "job". I need to find one of those soon. The little bits of work I do on campus don't really count.
I'm not looking forward to Easter. I haven't done my meatless Fridays except once, so the Easter Bunny is surely not appeased. I won't be getting any chocolate this year. *sniff*
I'm not looking forward to Easter. I haven't done my meatless Fridays except once, so the Easter Bunny is surely not appeased. I won't be getting any chocolate this year. *sniff*
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