Optimism?

People keep telling me that I can will myself to do better in school. If I am optimistic about the future and my success, I will see positive results. My initial reaction is, "well that's a load..." But since nothing else seems to be working I have considered the whole, changing-my-attitude route. But then I thought, doesn't this throw the universe off? Isn't there supposed to be a balance of optimism and pessimism in the world? A happy homeostasis? What if everyone were nothing but optimistic all the time? "Crap, I just stepped on a 2 inch plywood nail!" "Oh don't worry about it, lock-jaw isn't so bad." Does that make anyone feel better? I mean I guess if it does that's okay too, but then I would call you a liar. And then you might call me a pessimist, and there it is, balance is restored.

As a matter of fact, I think that if more people would subscribe to the idea of pessimism, they would in fact find themselves, less disappointed. Like, "Hey, turns out you needed one more B to pass this class, sorry." "Figured as much, see you in the summer." See? Doesn't that sound so much better than, "Oh my goodness, but I worked so hard, and put in so much time and effort, please I did the best that I could!" ...I rest my case.

You call it pessimism. I call it realism.

Catch up

So its been a while. Why? What have I been doing that has been SO important? Nothing. Nothing at all. After my return to Austin Post-op, I was pretty much helpless. I got back on the Tuesday of my spring break. Fortunately, living in Texas redefines bed rest. For me, this was laying by the pool for 8 hours a day (give or take). Dangerous? Nah, I hear that's a myth anyways. And if not, all I'm sayin is, "Helllo Melanoma!" At least I'll die with a beautiful tan right?

Anyways, so that was my spring break. I am not allowed to run for one more week so I've taken up speed-walking. I've never felt so geriatric in all my life. I walk the lake in the mornings and pass the usual runners I see and wave to. The other day the amazingly fit 65 year-old winked at me and said, "So we're walking these days?!" I think something subconsciously snapped, because now every time I see an elderly woman I want to trip her... but then I remembered-the doctor told me to take it easy. (I'll get her next time-you know who you are, Gertrude). And although there are downsides to the whole speed walking thing (getting everywhere ridiculously slow, looking ridiculous, feeling like you just wasted an hour and a half of your life) they tell me that its actually a great work out. And by they I am of course referring to the "Grandma's for Fitness" club who also walks the lake every morning.

So I guess bottom line is this is why I haven't blogged. Lame.

Flight Back Home

Upon arrival at the Austin-Bergstrom Airport (5:33pm) I made my way through the treacherous lines if a busy Thursday night check-in. (For those of you who have had the privilege of a flight into or out of this particular airport are undoubtedly thinking: "Busy? Lines? You do mean the same airport, right? Salt Lick Taco stand? 5 baggage claims? That same old guy who stares at your license for 20 minutes before initialing?" Treacherous may be an exaggeration but it was not done with ease so the term seemed appropriate)

I get up to the check-in desk:

A. Punched in my ever-so convenient confirmation code (5CCSQ)

B. Weighed my unnecessarily large suitcase (which in anticipation of shopping with mom deemed essential for that extra 20 lbs I may or may not acquire.

C. Walked through security and in doing so, the idea dawned on me how strange the elements of that line really are...Men taking off their belts, the faux pas of mismatched socks, old men insisting their pace-maker sets off the alarm every time, not to mention being scolded for not removing your small, lightweight jacket that only covered half of your upper body anyways.

Finally by 5:43 pm the hustle and bustle was over. Phew.

Then, here it comes-you wait all day to finally be on your way to the airport (airport=destination. Even if it is a work-related trip you still have the ability to justify overdosing on honey glazed peanuts <11> and, not getting any business done due to "dosing off...because who can focus at those altitudes?") You're through all the lines and then what? Well, (and this is purely hypothetical) now you get to sit down between the man chomping down Cinnabon Cini-Minis (AKA Heart Attack: Clotting Since 1984), and the 15 year-old boy who hasn't figured out: just because your headphones are intended for your ears only...at maximum volume all those around you are now subjected to the musical stylings of your big brother's best friend's band (tell him to go back to college).

Does it get any better? You think no, but it turns out...Yes!! It wouldn't be right to exclude the man you sit across from, who possibly has the idea that since you aren't making direct eye contact you don't notice his eyes staring into your mind and soul. Fortunately, when your soul is as dark and unpleasant to be in as mine (cobwebs and pointy things everywhere) he promptly moves onto the next individual with two X chromosomes whom he can impose his awkwardness on...hypothetically.

What else is there to say? Flying...there's no other experience like it!

DING! You are now free to sit on the outside row of Team: Free-Beer-Coupons