craveytrain

It’s a saying I have used in the last 5 years or so. I use it for just about anything to comfort a fretting someone to instead of “you’re welcome”. It’s more than a response, it’s a frame of mind for me.

People often ask me how I can be so laid back about things. Bordering on apathy is sometimes the comment. It’s not that I don’t care, but i don’t get worried about things. It’s just not my nature. I am a pretty logical person and most of my actions can be traced to some sort of thought process that decided that action was the best suited at the time. Granted, it may not have actually been the right action at the time, but that’s not relevant to this conversation.

Worrying just causes unnecessary stress. Who needs it? I know, it’s easier said than done to just up and stop worrying. But I consider myself pretty fortunate.

For example, I rolled my ankle pretty bad last night. Bad enough I’m barely mobile today. It’s the second time in a month I have done this. This is an old high school injury I re-aggravated. I couldn’t play in the game last night because I hurt it while warming up. The humiliation of that one still stings a bit. However, the pain (at least the constant pain) has subsided for the most part, and is only senstive when used. Lucky for me I have an office job with comfy Herman Miller Areons and a view of downtown Austin. So there is not much reason to get up that often.

However, I have plans starting Monday. Tuesday is my girlfriend’s (and mine, as luck would have it) anniversary of 3 years. So Monday we are going down to a bed and breakfast on Canyon Lake for a couple days. Then we are coming back and flying out to Cali on Thursday for her brother’s wedding on Saturday (which the girlie and I are both in). After that I have 2 weeks of vacation. Some would say “what a horrible time to get injured”. Though honestly, the way I look at it, better to have great plans hindered than no great plans at all. I would rather gimp around Canyon Lake and Malibu than to not go to either. Though, honestly I’m sure I’ll be ok by Monday and probably no noticable limp by Thursday. This ain’t my first rodeo with this ankle.

But when I do start to get down in spirits about things, the true reason I am able to maintain my nonchalant attitude comes out. My family and friends. For example, I sent an email to my soon to be wed buddy telling him.

Just to warn you (since I know [your sister] will say something) I rolled my ankle pretty bad last night (same injury from boy scouts that time playing wall ball in the fellowship hall). I will be fine by the wedding with no visable signs of limping or anything, but I wanted you to hear it from me.

He sends an email today to all the groomsmen about finalized plans, timelines, tux stuff and whatnot. Buried down in the email he addressed my confession.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, you can’t come to the reception if you show the slightest limp in your walk. [The bride to be] and I are both very committed to this - you’ll have to stay outside and just smell the food from under the door. And I don’t want any bellyaching about a “rolled ankle.” (only one of the recipients will understand)

Oh, isn’t he the witty one? Well not to be easily outdone, I had a retort in a reply all to the groomsmen.

will there be an inspection for limps? will we have to sashay down a runway and everything? How about mosey? I can still do that.

btw, just cause it is your and emilie’s day doesn’t mean you can’t have massive amounts of violence in your general vacinity. You should know better than to keep a fat man’s food away from him. That can results in severe head trauma. From a blunt object. Namely, my other (functioning) foot.

I have been really introspective lately. Thinking about things such as what determines quality of life, etc. I came to the conclusion that I lead a pretty charmed life.

Man, I have had a couple things I have wanted to blog about, but the last one I did got such a response, how do you follow that up? I feel like Dave Chappelle.

So today a few of us were sitting at Texadelphia for lunch (the one downtown that took over Wendy’s @ 7th & Congress). We were close to the door, but my back was to the door as I was watching the TV. I see a shadow next to me and “feel” someone behind me. You know how you can just feel someone is behind you sometimes, it was like that. Then the smell hit. It was a vagrant. I didn’t think much of it until I saw an arm next to my shoulder. WTF?! A hand in my fries. WTF?! I look up and see this homeless lady gobble a handful of my fries. Holy WTF?! Thank god I was done eating already. She walked off. I sat there staring at mamacita and another lunch companion. I can’t believe I didn’t do or say anything. What kept me in my chair?

After the moment had passed logic started to set in. What would happen if I got up and kicked this bum’s ass right here in the restaurant? Is that the kinda image I want to portray? Beating up a homeless woman? Over some fries? Still, those were my fries. My thought process was cut short by her reappearance, this time to the front of me.

She grabbed for my drink. This time I was not caught so off guard. I pulled it away and said “NO! I’m not done with that!” Then I even offered her the rest of my fries “I’m done with these if you want them.” She sorta shook her head and walked out the door. Then it hit me, she was special. Wow! I almost got up and kicked a slow hungry female vagrant’s ass in the middle of a restaurant. How narrowly I avoided an event I would have surely regretted for years.

I’m certain a year or 2 ago, I would have at least slapped her hand and verbally assualted her. I am perplexed at both the audacity of the vagrant and my ability to restrain my violence. I had genuine sympathy for her (which is against my nature). It’s funny, as I tell the story to people, people who know me, they all come back with “I bet you flipped out”. I don’t know what kept me from just going postal, but I didn’t.