Day One: Lessons in Trajectory and Gravity

When I looked across the S-Bahn, I noticed my buddy Tom was laughing at me.
“What?” I asked him.
“Oh, you just look so excited.”
“How could I not be? I’m in Europe not only for the first time, I’m also living here by myself.”
“You’re quite brave.”
“Well, I’m going to have to be.”

Truth is, I miss all of you (mostly Parker) already, and I definitely wish I could share this trip with someone so they, too, could snicker at the bus labeled “Fahrt.” However, I’ve already ridden what I like to call the Weiner Linier all by myself (don’t tell my mom) and made it home in one piece. I am such a big girl.

That being said, this entire thing is incredible. My buddy took me on a whirlwind tour of the first district and I tried to absorb all the historic architecture and meaning behind each steeple and statue. Tom describes it all as “romantic”, and I’m inclined to agree. Not that I remember about 90% of the tour, thanks to jet lag. I thought I’d do well to set my schedule in time with Vienna’s by sleeping at the appropriate time, but the babies on my plane had a different idea.

Oprah endorsed it, my mother bought the DVD, but I will tell you this: “The Secret” does not work.

Background: The theory behind “The Secret” is an omnipotent Universe that determines the course of your life based on the energy/wishes you send out into it.

Example scenario: You’re at the gate about to board your international flight, when the girl at the counter says, “You have a terrible seat.” “Really?” “Yes, I can change it for you.” According to The Secret, my silent wishes to be placed in first class should have been heard, processed, and spit back out in the form of a ticket saying “Section: BUSINESS TIME.”  Contrary to Oprah’s claims, in this hypothetical example, the hypothetical results were underwhelming.

As I folded my knees up by my ears to fit in my stall, I was struck by inspiration: IKEA needs to design airplanes. They are the masters of small spaces, and with their talent, every seat could have a kitchenette/bathroom (The latter of which became more and more attractive as I was in the window seat separated from the aisle by a sleeping beast who didn’t speak a word of English.  I now understand why my dog gives you a soul burrowing stare to signal until you let him outside because I found myself doing the exact same thing). But then I thought about it even more: Did I want to try to beat the laws of physics in a machine made with an allen wrench, laminated MDF, and parts that just end up smashed together out of sheer frustration because of several missing screws? …maybe not.

Additional Secret Caveat: the Universe doesn’t hear negatives. So I say, “I’d really much rather not have crying babies on my nine and a half hour flight.” The Universe replied with, “Oh, what was that? You’d really much rather have crying babies? Done.”

While waiting at the gate in Calgary, one grandmother bounced 6 lbs 8 oz of SQUEALING joy and said,  “I can’t believe they don’t let babies in business class.”

I can.

If I paid over a grand for a plane ticket, I believe I reserve the right to toss your screaming baby out the window. However, I was in the cattle car – excuse me – economy section and only had the luxury to dream.

So, I hunkered down with earplugs, earmuffs, and several Gravol, which knocked me out for several (screaming baby interrupted) hours. By the end I was close to crying myself.

*Small side note for anyone flying Lufthansa in the future: Please note that the safety videos only show the safety features in the business class section. I suppose on the safety card for the rest of us it just says, “GET TO THE EXIT FIRST! USE ANY MEANS POSSIBLE!”*

Despite all this, I’ve done well today: I’ve handled the horrifying labyrinth otherwise know as the Frankfurt Airport, found my new home, got a cell phone, toured Vienna’s first district, went bought groceries, drank a cup of Austrian coffee that would put hair on your chest, narrowly avoided death-by-pigeon, and have started the task of making my room livable.

I feel like running around the snail of all of Austria’s districts, yelling, “OHMAGAW! I AM IN VIENNA!” but I’m afraid after all of that I am much too sleepy.

XOXO Gossip Jetlagged


About j.ball

I took all the thoughts rumtumbling in my head, and I put them in this blog.
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