Is it a full moon?

People these days are lunatics. Lunatics I tell ya.

When did everything that happens in one's orbit become all about them? What am I talking about? Here are some examples:

a) A certain blogger who shall remain nameless says (and not for the first time) that she doesn't wish her readers to go nuts with their concerns about her health and start firing uninvited medical advice and one of her readers becomes very affronted and states that it's not all about the blogger . . . well, um, it's her blog isn't it? If it's not about her, who pray tell, IS it all about? It's certainly not all about the blog readers.

b) I made a comment in my last entry about the Austermann Step that I'd just received. It turns out that the person who so passionately disliked Step still reads my blog (this honestly astounds me since evidently the very thought of me drives her to tears) and took great offense to my offhand quote and decision to think for myself with my yarn selection. Evidently it was a grave insult. Since when does my opinion about yarn of all things amount to derision? Furthermore, what's wrong with this woman that she thought I was making a personal attack? I used the quotation because it's stuck with me since the first time I heard it. It struck me as oddly naughty sounding (try googling hairy splitty slimy and see what comes up) and still makes me giggle. Other than recalling that I didn't think about her at all and my opinion one way or another had absolutely nothing to do with her.

I guess my final thought on all of this is just that some people need to get over themselves or seek therapy or something. It's not all about you . . . unless it's your blog *grin*

The puppies know that it's actually all about food.