My sweetie has been ill with the swine flu.

It sucks watching someone you care about suffer because there is only so much you can do. In my case, I have been reading to her. Of course, the book I've chosen--Eat Pray Love--is one I've wanted her to read for a long time. Naturally, I'm seizing the opportunity to force feed it to her.

There's no audience like a captive audience.

There's also no sweetie like my sweetie. The flu has given her chills so she's spent the last couple days wearing the giant, furry wolf costume her friend wore for Halloween.

She is the cutest wolf ever.

It's kind of weird coming upstairs to see a giant wolf laying sick and forlorn on the bed though. All she was missing was a caption beneath her:

Swine Flu--The Three Little Pigs' Revenge.

Or possibly it should have been a picture sent with a note formed with letters cut out of the newspaper:

"Dear Mr. Wolf,

You aren't the only person who can play dress up.

And wolves have grandmothers too.

Sincerely,

Red Riding Hood"

The H1N1 outbreak has also instigated a round of one of my pet peeves--people refusing to acknowledge their mistakes.

It drives me crazy when figures both public and otherwise either a) refuse to admit fault or b) issue these mealy-mouthed non-apologies. I suppose there are legal reasons for it, but I still get annoyed.

Is making a mistake that bad? Seriously, we've never had anything like this H1N1 thing before. There's nothing wrong with admitting you were not fully prepared or miscalculated how things would play out. Instead they refuse to acknowledge any problems whatsoever.

It isn't just him though. I've met people who refuse to admit they're wrong, even when they clearly are.

Even more frustrating, I've had people tell me that I shouldn't ever admit to being wrong or making a mistake, that it's a sign of weakness or lack of confidence.

I...

My sweetie has been ill with the swine flu.

It sucks watching someone you care about suffer because there is only so much you can do. In my case, I have been reading to her. Of course, the book I've chosen--Eat Pray Love--is one I've wanted her to read for a long time. Naturally, I'm seizing the opportunity to force feed it to her.

There's no audience like a captive audience.

There's also no sweetie like my sweetie. The flu has given her chills so she's spent the last couple days wearing the giant, furry wolf costume her friend wore for Halloween.

She is the cutest wolf ever.

It's kind of weird coming upstairs to see a giant wolf laying sick and forlorn on the bed though. All she was missing was a caption beneath her:

Swine Flu--The Three Little Pigs' Revenge.

Or possibly it should have been a picture sent with a note formed with letters cut out of the newspaper:

"Dear Mr. Wolf,

You aren't the only person who can play dress up.

And wolves have grandmothers too.

Sincerely,

Red Riding Hood"

The H1N1 outbreak has also instigated a round of one of my pet peeves--people refusing to acknowledge their mistakes.

It drives me crazy when figures both public and otherwise either a) refuse to admit fault or b) issue these mealy-mouthed non-apologies. I suppose there are legal reasons for it, but I still get annoyed.

Is making a mistake that bad? Seriously, we've never had anything like this H1N1 thing before. There's nothing wrong with admitting you were not fully prepared or miscalculated how things would play out. Instead they refuse to acknowledge any problems whatsoever.

It isn't just him though. I've met people who refuse to admit they're wrong, even when they clearly are.

Even more frustrating, I've had people tell me that I shouldn't ever admit to being wrong or making a mistake, that it's a sign of weakness or lack of confidence.

I don't buy it. I've always believe truly self-assured people aren't afraid to admit when they mishandled things. I tend to respect and trust a person who acknowledges failure more than someone who doesn't.

And I think a lot of us would in a better place if we focused a little less on LOOKING confident and a little more on BEING confident.