Heather
LAMPE
Of little resolve
If you reach for the stars, you get sore arms
All I wanted to do was get some
gas and grab a candy bar. When I go
to the gas station, I don’t want any
interaction, any conversation. What I
want least of all is advice on mani
curing tech
niques.
“That
comes to
$10.50.”
I hand the
man the money.
He grabs my
hand and begins
to examine it.
“Miss, do
you chew your nails? Because I
know of a fabulous enamel polish
that keeps you from biting while
strengthening the nail. It’s displayed
over there, next to the beef jerky.”
“No, thank you,” I mumble,
pulling my hand away. “My parents
had me declawed as a child. I was
ruining their drapes.”
He looks at me strangely, and I
walkout.
For me, it’s just another reminder
of my lack of self-control. I have a
habitual, addictive, nervous sort of
personality. My oral fixation and my
nubby nails are just the beginning.
My lack of self-restraint makes it
necessary for me to write my list of
New Year’s resolutions three months
ahead of time—to ensure that I
66
I have a habitual, addictive, nervous
sort of personality. My oral fixation and
my nubby nails are just the beginning.”
cover everything. The following
resolutions I would like to dedicate
to all the Jenny Craig dropouts of the
world. I know your pain.
No. 1:1 resolve to eat one healthy
meal in 1997.
When you’re trying to dig
yourself out of the fiasco your life
has become, start slowly. Don’t aim
high. You’ve proven you can’t
succeed. If you write the resolution
list of an achiever, you’re bound to
slit your wrists (and then you will
have failed resolution No. 28).
If you’re not sure you can manage
to eat one healthy meal in a year,
resolve to eat a carrot. Even if you
have to eat it with dip, you will have
succeeded at one resolution.
No. 2:1 resolve to dust the
exercise bike once a month.
OK, lets face it, I’m not going to
actually get on the bike. The seat
hurts my butt. And when I pedal, I
can’t hear the TV. I manage to scrape
the film off my furniture once a
month, so why not include the
exercise bike?
By the way, exercise bikes also
make lovely planters. Just hang a
couple of ferns off the handles, and
display a philodendron on the seat.
No. 3:1 resolve to never cuss in
Portuguese.
Again, if vulgarity is your vice,
make your resolution is something
you can handle. Pick a language you
don’t speak. Control your potty
mouth in another tongue and maybe
next year... Ahh *@#&$#@!!.M ...
OK, maybe not.
No. 4:1 resolve not to get caught
gossiping.
I hate tight-lipped people. What’s
the fun of having people around if
you can’t talk about them? You might
as well move to Antarctica.
If you’re a gossip monger like
me, don’t even try to stop. The
hushed whispers of good gossip is
like the sound of the tap to a drunk.
Instead, resolve not to get caught.
You’re just a gossip, not the devil.
You don’t want to hurt people.
There’s nothing worse than talking
about Marge’s bad perm and then
finding out that Marge bludgeoned
herself with a curling iron because of
your snickering.
There are many other resolutions
befitting losers like me. The key is to
choose resolutions that can be
achieved. Don’t resolve to lose 10
pounds. Resolve to gain 10 pounds.
If you’re like me, you’ve done it
every other year.
You know you can’t live on bean
sprouts and tofu, but doesn’t a Little
Debbie sound good?
I’d like to end this column with a
few comforting words for my fellow
underachievers: Everybody has
faults. Some people gnaw on their
nails. Some people devour Ding
dongs. Some people get off the couch
only to go to the bathroom. I say
high-achieving people invented New
Year’s resolutions to humiliate the
portion of the population that
considers ketchup a food group.
When New Year’s rolls around,
forget the resolutions.
Resolve not to resolve.
Lampe is a senior news-editorial
and English major and a Daily
Nebraskan columnist.
Brent
POPE
Happy go Grumpy
The good, the bad and the airport—a case study
“It was the best of times; it was
the worst of times.” I’m sure that
Charles Dickens didn’t have airports
in mind when he wrote that sentence,
but I think it still applies, because
airports are both
the happiest and
| the saddest
places in the
world.
And why
shouldn’t they
be? Everyone
there is either
saying “hello” or
“goodbye” to
someone. But it runs much deeper
than that. Everything that happens in
or around airports or airplanes makes
people either as happy as Michael
Jackson at the children’s zoo or as
sad as Homer Simpson when he
found out the buffet at that seafood
restaurant wasn’t really “all you can
eat.” (DOH!)
Here are a few examples:
You just landed after a long flight.
You are either: (1) happy to eat
something other than “airplane food”
(where bland is a popular flavor), or
(2) angry because a hot dog and a -
frosty beverage at the airport costs
more than your plane ticket.
Your friend from out of town just
arrived after his flight. You are
either: (1) elated to see your old
buddy from high school, or (2) sad
ti
Everything that happens in or around
airports or airplanes makes people either
as happy as Michael Jackson at the
children's zoo or as sad as Homer
Simpson when he found out the buffet at
that seafood restaurant wasn't really
‘all you can eat.' (DOH!)"
that he’s just as annoying as you
remembered. (For example, he still
thinks that farting in a car and not
rolling down the windows is funny.)
You just checked into your hotel
room by the airport. You are either:
(1) in a good mood because there’s
nothing better than a shower and a
change of clothes after a long flight,
or (2) in a bad mood because the
luggage handlers screwed up and
your clothes are halfway to some
remote Pacific island. (Although, if
they happened to end up in die hands
of the Skipper and his Little Buddy,
it would almost be worth it, wouldn’t
it?)
You are coasting along at an
altitude of 37,000 feet in a commer
cial airplane. You feel either: (1)
giddy that you have a window seat
and die captain keeps telling you
about neat things you can see
outside, or (2) pissed because you
would need some really powerful
binoculars to see anything that’s ove
30,000 feet below. (Unless the
captain happens to point out Rush
Limbaugfr’s ego or his gut, but you
can see those things from pretty
much anywhere on the planet.)
You are using one of those
moving walkways that allow you to
travel quickly across the airport. You
are either: (1) enjoying the fact that
you can walk at just under the speed
of light, or (2) lamenting the fact that
you forget to slow down at the end of
the walkway and are now skidding
across the airport carpeting on your
forehead. (I always use the old “I was
just practicing the STOP, DROP and
ROLL technique in case I catch on
fire” excuse.)
You are on a flight where there is
NO SMOKING. You are either: (1)
enjoying the fresh air, or (2) nau
seous because the guy sitting next to
you has armpits that are “smoking”
in their own special way and there’s
nowhere to go.
Nobody really knows why these
things happen, but they do. And if
you don’t believe me, then take a
look at this study completed just a
few weeks ago: It was a psychologi
cal study of Snow White and the
Seven Dwarfs done by computer
experts. It was designed to show how
each of them would respond in
certain situations. There was one
particular situation where they were
' offered a free plane ride, and all they
had to do was show up at the airport;
99 percent of the time, the only ones
who showed up were Happy and
Grumpy. You can’t argue with
statistics.
Pope is a senior broadcasting
major and a Daily Nebraskan
columnist
