What’s Up? (3/12/14)

It’s 3:30 AM, and I’ve got a splitting headache that’s been on and off all day yesterday. Now, I didn’t take anything to alleviate this, but why? Let me start off by saying that pseudoscience and a mistrust of medicine and medical professionals is a dangerous and destructive thing; it’s the whole reason measles of all things has infected more people in NYC this March than usually get infected in a year, because people are paranoid about the side effects of vaccinations. Still, that being said, I feel hesitant to take anti-headache stuff for some reason. I don’t think it’s born out of a mistrust of medicine, but I don’t feel like things like Aleve, Advil, or Tylenol have ever really helped. Even if they did help, I’m not jumping for a quick cure for a headache; they’re not debilitating, I’ve worked through plenty of them before, in fact I just worked through three hours of art with a headache. If I still have it when I wake up, I’ll have a cup of tea, and if it’s still there after a warm shower, then I’ll give in and find a pill to swallow. I’m not embracing naturalistic nonsense; tea and showers aren’t cures to headaches, but maybe the headache will happen to go away while I’m doing those things, and then I’ll have waited out the problem. Win: me. 

Also, throwing this idea out there because I’ve been thinking on it for a day or two, and shared it with friends. Sbarro has filed for bankruptcy, so who knows how long they’ll be around for? The last time I had Sbarro was during a Mets’ game at Shea Stadium, and that was a very long time ago, and I remember it being underwhelming. The idea: to get a final slice of Sbarro’s pizza, and record a review of it on my laptop, while in Pittsburgh International Airport. My friends laughed, and the idea is intentionally ridiculous to be sure. My love of pizza is a joke with friends, but this is pushing it to an extreme, though one that I think could be funny. My friends trash-talked Sbarro, and I don’t have high expectations, but my mother seemed to fondly remember its rise to food-court stardom. This is a silly idea, and one that will test my ability to do something unusual in public, but it’s an act of preservation: and I’m a little obsessive about preservation.

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Leaving Pittsburgh In Three Hours

…Well I’m leaving the apartment in three hours at the very least. Then I’m taking an hour long bus ride to Pittsburgh International, and by nine o’clock I’ll be on an hour long flight home to Long Island. I just peeked outside, and the snow has stopped for now, the very snow which prompted the rescheduling of my flight home from Wednesday to Tuesday. I’ve never rescheduled a flight before, it’s an expensive ordeal, but I’m thankful for the opportunity to fly home a day early, and outside of the looming chaos that is snowstorm-meets-Thanksgiving travel.

I’m all packed up, but the prospect of getting two hours of sleep before a flight really doesn’t interest me. It never has. I have this thing; and I might have written about it before, about sleeping before flights. First of all, I’m too excited to sleep easily, secondly I’m going to be nervous about oversleeping somehow and missing a flight, and finally I just think that an airport is best enjoyed in a low-energy state. You get in and you stand on line, listen to music, read, and a whole bunch of other very non-taxing things.

There’s still time to kill, and I’d think about putting on a few records if it wasn’t so late. Sure, I could throw in some headphones, but I want to dance to my music, I want to play it loud. I’ll maybe do some reading to pass the time, or pace around the room trying to remember what I could have forgotten to pack. I’m not against starting some art projects with my remaining time, or crawling into my bed for warmth and comfort and very intentionally not sleep.