Attitude in Relation with Current Barometric Pressure

It's nearing mid-week, and I have to say that I am happy, happy, happy! I hate Wednesdays. They are neither close to the beginning of a fresh new week, nor close to the exciting weekend. That kills me because I can't ask my customers 'How was your weekend?' like I can Monday an Tuesday. And I can't ask, 'So, big plans for your weekend?' on Thursday and Friday. For most of you that may seem like a simple dilemma, but to me it is horrific. But, the sun has smiled my way, for I have a new inspiration to smile on my Wednesday. Amidst the fabulous 65 degree weather due tomorrow, McDonalds' is giving out different free drinks on Mon-Wed. Monday offers a free sampler coffee, Tuesday supplies a sweet southern tea sampler (hint: a bit too sweet), and Wednesday is my favorite; an Iced Coffee sampler. So tomorrow I plan to trudge over to a nice friendly McD's and ask for Iced Coffee. So the thought of such ice-cold deliciousnes mellows out the horridness of Wednesday.

While the previous paragraph may appear pointless, it has a reason. Everything I say has a point - it's just not always obvious. I wrote that about Wednesdays, because I am discovering more and more that how one's day/life goes depends almost entirely on ones' attitude to it. As a result, I find myself wincing more and more when I meet people who are determined to be pecimistic.

Example: A few short weeks ago, it was mentioned that it would just be so nice to see grass. There was so much snow, that even a blade of brown grass would be pleasant. If it could be more like spring, it would be easier to have a nice day.

Today I realized that some people in this world are just whiners. No matter WHAT, they WANT to be pecimistic. (I have been guilty of this before, so I am not speaking from lack of experience.) This is dangerous, my friends, because a dark cloud often spreads. Later, as I thought back on the balmy 63 degree weather, I remembered some of what people had to say about it today.

One pleasant gentleman: It's too hot.
One woman: I hear it's windy.
Another man: I feel a chill. It's too chilly.
One customer (no joke): I am doing well, in relation to the current barometric pressure and changing of wind patterns.

Imagine my chagrin when I realized how much stock even I put in the weather! With each customer, I felt like I was being deflated about the weather, and I had to come to its' defense. (That's what makes Global Warming so laughable. We couldn't even change the weather if we wanted to!) How ridiculous! I must be dedicated to NOT letting the weather affect me so much, because while I cannot control the weather, I CAN control my attitude to it. It works the same way with the day of the week, be it Monday or Wednesday or Friday. For those of you techincal people who want a point to everything, this concept also applies to your environment and your work situation. Now I REALIZE that many jobs are difficult and completely mind-absorbing. But a good attitude goes a long way. Like today I went to McDonalds for the sweet tea sampler (ick), and the cashier was kindly asked how she liked her job. "It's horrible." "You... you don't like it?" her customer asked a bit taken back. "No, I don't like it. It's sometimes good, but it's alot bad." Then she said, "How can I help you?" lol! If I tried that I would have to just sit down and laugh at myself. La... people are funny. They amuse me. Life is amusing. This blog is amusing. I've been accused of turning it into a diary, but I don't care. If an issue presents itself, I will research and dash it out upon the rocks of commentators. But if I just want to write... well, I'll write. Thank God for real life experiences, no? ;) And... to be honest, I love the lush carpets of bright-green lawns. It does perk me up a bit to wake up to sunlight and birds in the still of the morning.

Every season has its' benefits. Good is so often over-looked. One merely must choose to be thankful for every pleasant thing that comes along. After all, life is full of surprises...

The Glorious Mark Belling and tonight's Movie

Most annoying things people can say during a movie:

What happens next?
Does he die? He dies, doesn’t he.
I can’t look. Tell me what happens.
Go back, go back.
That’s not possible. That doesn’t make sense.
What? That’s the end? What the…

My family and I watched an enchanting Western film tonight called 3:10 to Yuma. It’s one of those new movies you see splashed against the windows of Blockbuster with the intention of making you curious. I’m going to ruin it for you. So don’t read this next sentence if you don’t want it ruined. Up, too late. The main good guy dies. The bad guy kills everybody and then goes on a train to get hanged. The son lies weeping over his father's good body. A lot o’ fascinating blood and gore. Hating me now, aren’t you? Eh, that’s okay. You should have watched it sooner.

Now to change the subject drastically. This next matter excites me greatly - even more than the convenient snow blustering outside! I called into Mark Belling’s show today! That’s right. THE most amazing conservative talk show voice. For those of you who know Belling, he chews out his callers whether they’re right or wrong. That makes him fascinating to listen to, but terrifying to talk to. The first time I tried to call in, my hand was shaking so bad, I had to put the phone down. The second, I chickened out last minute, and said, “Wrong Number.” On my third courageous effort, I was told my call was unnecessary, and I hung up the phone with a feeling of relief. It was the fourth attempt at calling in that proved to be my moment of glory. My heart gets excited just thinking about it. Belling was conducting a poll to see how many of his listeners were sick of hearing the rant and rave against McCain. “All right, I’ll take the first 20 callers. I don’t want any opinions. All I want is for the caller to say ’Keep ripping McCain, or shut up and leave him alone.” I was listening, of course, and a feeling of pride rose within me. This was something I could do. My hand rested on the smooth of the phone, and then I picked it up with flourish. The decision was made, and the redial button was punched many times. The screener was very nice. She even asked me what my name was. Kindly, she advised me to keep my radio off and wait my turn. Belling went from caller to caller so quickly I didn’t have time to be nervous. Then it was my turn. “Andrea, keep ripping or shut up?” he asked with zero emotion. I actually laughed, I was so nervous, and tried to make my voice sound important, “Keep ripping.” I hung up quickly, my fingers momentarily riddled with Parkinson’s. The deed was done. I ran into the living room where my family sat mute and admiring the 9 feet of snow, and crowed, “I JUST CALLED INTO MARK BELLING!” Then, of course, the radio got turned up to that glorious top notch, (because radio has that great delay thing) and my family heard my infamous voice. “Keep ripping.” The words echoed over and over again in my ears. I sat in a comfortable chair amid praise and admiration, and hoped I had said the right thing. I should have said, ‘Keep ripping, Mark!’, instead of just a dull ‘Keep ripping’. That would have made it more personal. He might have remembered me, then. But then again, I might have gotten all mixed up if I had too much to say. I might have said, “Keep Mark ripping.” Or “Mark Keep Ripping.” Or even worse, “ Ripping Keep Mark.” There - I’ve run out of variations. But how exciting to have a voice! I will speak more of this later, though. There is a bed hour around my home.

p.s. hint about my unflailing political position: GO ROMNEY!