Aside from being told, “Your cookies gave Santa diabetes,” the worst comment to hear is, “Be realistic.” When no one thought a human could be made into a kite, the sport of parasailing was invented.

Peter Parker didn’t think he could climb walls, but then a radioactive spider bit him and he never resorted to taking the stairs again.

When I was told I couldn’t hold my breath under water for more than a minute, I victoriously coughed up chlorine as my Mitch Buchannon of a lifeguard rescued me.

My point is that reality is as boring as watching a silent film with your eyes closed. As a half-Capri Sun-full type of person, I believe in the greatness of the past returning to bring bliss to the people of the present.

In the music world, I have faith that Brandy and Monica will return with a sequel to their music video “The Boy Is Mine,” but instead titled “The Baby Is Yours.” Another group of ladies I hope to make a comeback is Salt-N-Pepa, minus the salt. It is important for me to maintain a blood pressure of 120/80 or my doctor won’t give me a lollipop at my next checkup.

Along with music, I’m hoping for a revival of classic TV shows. I want “Ghostwriter” to return except the show would be “Ghostwriter: The College Years,” and the clues would be given in the form of one-liners from the ghost of Mitch Hedberg.

“Disney’s Adventures of the Gummi Bears” is another show I’d like to see return. Gummiberry Juice provided the gummis with bouncing abilities and temporarily gave humans super strength. Maybe professional athletes who have been caught for using steroids are actually closeted fans of that show.

In addition to TV shows, there are a great deal of games that must be played once again. One game in particular changed lives in the 1990s: the game of Pogs. In the days of Pogs, recess looked as if children had taken up street gambling. Playing for keeps was tough. Each time I lost one in battle, I took a five-minute break to undergo Kubler-Ross’ “Five Stages of Grief” before moving on to a new game.

Out of all the necessary comebacks, the one needed most is human interaction. I don’t think fingers were created to spend every second of the day texting. If anything, they were made to endure an entire thumb-war tournament. I hear people get incredibly excited when a guy or girl they like adds them on Myspace or Facebook and I think a part of me dies inside 8212; either that or an ulcer has developed, I’m not sure.

Comebacks are constantly occurring, but without the belief in their return, they are hats without rabbits, Victoria devoid of a Secret or Oprah without Stedman.

8212;Sarah Atallah is an English senior.

8212;This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.