Glass Houses & Pie

I love love love love ~big pink heart~ love when people try to tell me how to live my life. It gives me the warm fuzzies all over that so many people care so deeply that they feel they must instruct me on everything from my sleeping schedule to my choice of coffee brands.
Not really.
I appreciate that you pay enough attention to my life to notice the choices I make, but as for telling me how to live? Not so much. If I ask for your advice or input, great, and remember I may not take it, but I have the information and what I do with it from there is on me.
But.

You can't...
Reality begs to differ
Hide and watch
Yet, I did
Oh? 1 of us must be dreaming or hallucinating again

You have to...
No I don't
There are only 2 things we have to do - be born and die, and everything else is an option

You need to...
Oh, suddenly it's about my needs
Or else what?
You have no idea what I need

Srsly, telling me not to do something is a doublecat dare ya, it's the green light, waving me in the the pits, it's saying YOU MUST DO THIS NOW. And telling me I won't do something? Please allow me a few moments to call my bookie and place a largish wager, post a status on facebook about doing it, sell tickets to the show, make a note in my diary, take out insurance on the event, and have a crew of journalists ready for live coverage.
All this in because in the past few hours I've had a slew (ok buttload. Better? Yeah, no, I like slew) of people telling me what to eat, drink, feel, do, think, be... yeah.
I don't care that you don't approve of my food choices. Today, I have eaten:
Shrimp for breakfast. It's what I wanted when I wanted it. Midmorning I had a few cheese and crackers (with a glass of wine! Yep, because I knew I wasn't driving and I wanted it. I don't care where the sun is, what time it is, any anachronistic misogynist system's opinion, or any imaginary standards or when it is okay to drink may be). Lunch? fruit bowl and steak. Midafternoon was baked potato. And dinner? A slice of homemade apple pie with vanilla gelato and a glass of milk. I may eat cereal in the middle of the night, too. And so what? I'm getting all the nutrition I need, in a tasty way, when I want, and in a form that is acceptable to me. And it doesn't have a damned thing to do with anybody else. It doesn't change who you are as a person, shake the foundations of the institution of marriage, affect the dow-jones, cause tidal waves, incite riots, lower the water level, or in any way whatsoever affect anybody but me, and that is my choice. If it does, that is your choice.

The glass house? People who live in glass houses shouldn't get stoned with nudists.