The Queen of the Universe

Well, as life would have it, my fifty-day plan has become fraught with unexpected obstacles, heartbreak and hurdles. Having been stripped of all material possessions by a random act of fate, and a not-so-random act of sheer negligence, and having been left with nothing to offer but the gifts with which I was born, I am finding myself completely unappreciated, as what “little I have left,” seems to be no longer wanted.

If being victimized by the Universe – the fates, God, Jerry Garcia, the original Star Trek cast, or whomever we worship and bow to – was an Olympic event, I'd be standing on the podium, neck heavy with the albatross of a much-deserved gold medal, while The Battle Hymn of the Martyrs is played with elementary precision by prepubescent pipers, flautists and buglers, suggesting that the members of the Boston Philharmonic, are, at least as a whole, “smarter than a fifth grader.”

“Suffering builds character,” is often lovingly spoken by my ninety-one-year-old grandmother. Granted, this is the same woman who thinks Google is Gurgle, Oprah is Offrah, and “Intendo” is still the hottest video game console on the market. But Grandma knows a thing or two, as is expected when someone has observed the unkindness and beauty of this thing called life for greater than nine decades.

According to Grandma's score-keeping methods, I've built enough character to become the leader of the free world. You never know. It could happen. You wake up one day and I'm the leader of the world, and the funny thing is, you don't remember me campaigning, or announcing my decision to run on Celebrity Apprentice. You just wake up, and there I am, on the news, announcing that the world has gone vegetarian, pink is the new pink, as evidenced by my fabulous tiara, and murder is actually okay, as long as you've killed someone who killed someone else, might kill someone else, hurts puppies or children, or is the hacker sending that shit about my uncle in Nigeria.

You might find things substantially improve when I am the Queen of the Universe. I know, I know, I've gone from a world leader to Queen of the Universe in less than one paragraph, but with no concrete proof of life on other planets, and with Area 51 still mainly mystery, if I'm top dog, or Cat, if you will, I am, for all intents and purposes, Queen of the Universe, but don't get too damned excited. Those of you who know me, know that a future royal wedding is unlikely.

Moving on.......

While under my careful guidance, be prepared to recycle. We will all be recycling. We will be kind to ourselves, and others, and I plan to wrap the world with an invisible fence of sorts. When you're unkind........ ZAP! Believe me, that shit happens once or twice, and you'll all quickly change your perspective on life, and only turn right on red when it means someone hasn't just nearly shit his/her pants because you almost ended their life with your lack of patience.

Here it comes........

ZAP!

Wait your turn! Where do you have to go that is so damned important you can't wait your turn?? I'm the Queen of the Universe, for heaven's sake. If I can let someone out into traffic, surely you can.

And, if you don't......

ZAP!

To wrap up this blatant insanity, I can only say, if becoming Queen of the Universe is another unexpected twist in my fifty-day-plan, I'd better get to planning. I've only got fourteen days to figure out how to save the planet, and what to wear for my inauguration.

Back soon................