England's Dreaming

I am so sick of the royal wedding. My marital influenza seems to be an epidemic amongst Scottish folk as there are only a few “Street Parties” planned versus the hundreds in England and Wales.

I must confess (though it isn’t much of a confession when you hear me rant about how my money shouldn’t go into funding their lifestyles) I really don’t care for the Windsors. We live in a constitutional monarchy where the Queen does not have any political power. Yes, she can have her opinions and suggest certain tactics but she is, by law, politically neutral.

So what does she really do? Well, she has charities, she visits other countries, she tells Silvio Burlesconi to shut up, but really she doesn’t do anything that a politician or an A-list celebrity doesn’t do (or a D-list underage prostitute in Silvio’s case).

William has a degree from the one of the poshest and elitest universities in Britian (well it’s in Scotland actually) and he is active in the military. Great. Pay your own way then because lord knows you make more money than I do in a year (uh oh here goes my taxation rant). I think he’s fine and great he’s getting married, but honestly I wish people would get over their fascination with this wedding and the royals in general.

I think that a family who practiced endogamy, yes, William’s grandpa is actually his grandmother’s third cousin (they share Queen Victoria as a great-great-grandmother) is not a very appealing family to want to spawn with. William and Harry are lucky their mum was not conceived by kissing cousins or else I’d be looking for a tail or a third nipple if I were Kate.

I really just want to start singing Sex Pistols songs (yes, I know I am not 14 anymore) every time I see displays in grocery stores hawking Will and Kate undercrackers and tea cups.

I think what makes me so conflicted about this wedding is the fact that it is a major news story and I should be covering it on any scale as a photojournalist. I have an itchy camera shutter finger and I probably will keep my eye out for some festivities on the day. Oh well. God Save The Queen’s Grandson.

A rant...

It really annoys me when I get called certain things. Do you have pet peeves with it comes to what people call you?

I hate being called a Yankee. In the UK a Yankee is anyone from the states. But in the states, a Yankee is someone from New England or just the North in general. Being from Florida, as south as you can get, you can understand why that bugs me.

I hate being called "sweetheart" or "darling" by men. It really grinds on my nerves. Even in the north of Scotland, in the middle of nowhere I got called "darling" by an old man in a petrol station. Grr. But here's the kicker; I call guys "sugar" all the time. I can't help it. Its weird and I know its a double standard.

I don't like to be called Susie. My momma is the ONLY person I'll let get away with it. I was called Susie during my formative years and when I became a teenager I forbade anyone from adding the "sie" to my name.

And, the reason for this post, I hate being called a "Snapper." In the UK, a snapper is someone who takes photos. Pro photogs call themselves that and I find it terribly derogatory. To me it denotes someone who has no skill what-so-ever, someone who just picks up a camera, sets it on automatic, and click there's a photo.

Not that there is anything wrong with someone who uses an automatic setting, but for a professional it is incredible annoying. I have worked my butt off for years in university and in many, many internships, freelance and full-time photography jobs to get where I am. I don't just snap, I take time and compose a photograph.

So please, I beg you, don't call me a Yankee Sweetheart Susie Snapper.