back to work

I will step foot on a plane as an employee for the first time in two weeks tomorrow. I tried to lay low by requesting minimum to fly and picking up airport alert today. However, my plan did not succeed as I was ringed during the movie to work tomorrow. A double turn is my fate visiting both BDA and DCA tomorrow. Reality comes alive again tomorrow, working, going places, and seeing the world. I have grown accustomed to not working and only socializing and partying but my time has come to go back to work. I have placed a call to the guy I met on the way to LAS letting him know I have his Marionberry jam and I have dinner plans with the mobboss (as we have dubbed him) Tuesday evening. In the sole interest of making my blog entertaining, I set forth upon my week.

oh what a nite

Cries from George awoke me while the flash of lighting hitting the street below lit up the room. My first thought, I hope they don't cancel the game today. The rain subsided by the time I crawled out of bed. My partner and crime and I got ready for our day in the city. Our first stop was the 9th street pathstation, up to Starbucks for a triple latte and to map out our day. Pastis, the place where celebs like to lunch welcomed us and gave us not only a great table, but a fantastic lunch. A short walk to the subway and a couple trains later we made a pack to not pay for our first drink at Stans. As we swapped trains at 145th the amount of Yankee fans tripled, feeling out of place, I quickly swapped my shirt and put on my hat. This captured the attention of two guys standing in front of us so we got to talking to them. They were headed to Stans and were sitting near us as well so we acquired our drinking partners for the evening. We had the luck of getting a table (unheard of) and in the short hour before the game downed two beers and two shots. The roar of Yankee Stadium is a feeling like any other, especially during a Red Sox game. We made it to our seats ordered a beer and crackerjacks and watched the game unfold. The only inning of pure excitement was the fourth when the Yankees pulled out in fron, unfortunatly we lost the game and it was too painful to watch. We met up with our guys once more and went in search for more beer. After haning out in the Bronx for a bit, we changed back and headed into the city. The MPD was calling our name, unfotunatly the guys were not dressed to get in so we said our goodbyes and smiled at the bouncer of Buddha Bar. He lifted the rope and then introduced us to a guy who wanted us to meet his friend. We were escorted to a large table filled with guys and we were introduced to a guy in his late fourties. We were asked to join them and our drink order was quickly taken. A few moments later the table was filled with girls, a few moments after that a magnium of champange was a the table. The head hancho asked if I would join him outside for some air, we ended up talking and hanging out for a bit and then going to another club. C and I got into his car which was parked in front of the club (mind you there is no parking in MPD) and then drove around a couple of blocks with the top down on this beautiful Mercedes with everyone staring at us. We pulled up a the other club and once again parked in front of Aer. No waiting, we walked right in and could have had anything we asked for. In fact, the bathroom attendant got fired because she was so mean to us. We danced for a bit and headed over the the Penthouse, we rounded out our evening at Pop Burger with his boys and then were sent home in a cab. It sure didn't take long to get back into the swing of the old city.

bow

I have willed the sunshine to come out every day I have been home, even if it breaks through the clouds momentarly; this place is breath taking with the suns rays. I look around during my walks here and there at the green trees, the parks, the clean sidewalks and know this is where my heart calls home. My visit has been very emotional but sucessful in seeing everyone I care about, sharing great conversations, a few drinks, some good stories, and coffee. I just finished having lunch with my dear friend, Teresae who put the bow on the week. I feel very settled about this visit although one thing I was hoping for did not occur, it was probably in the best interest of my fragile (I will deny I said this) heart. My bag is still to be packed and it was with great hesitation that I woke up this morning ready to leave however now I have been given ten extra hours and it feels like the perfect amount of time. I am ready for my summer in NYC, I am ready to see the world...I just hope they are ready for me!

change

Change is inevitable, I am usually an advocate for it for growth and maturity reasons but when it comes to points in my life when I am happy I want the world to freeze and allow me to live happily ever after. This idea is of course far-fetched and unreachable unless, as dictated by movies and fairy tales, you find your soul mate. The idea of a soul mate has always been presented in a human form, most traditionally a mate, one who makes your world complete simply with their being. It is predicted that once you find this person everything else will fall into place. Here is what I propose, what if our soul mates consist of the perfect house, neighborhood, career, or group of friends? This would defiantly free up the emotional entanglement that so often comes with seeking the perfect mate. There was a point in time, two summers ago to be exact, where my world could have froze and I would have been blissfully happy. I suppose that this the feeling that I seek each time I return home. I feel as though I can touch it this time but am unable to wrap my arms around it all and embrace it, even if it is only for a couple of days. But if I am able to do get this in my grasp, then what? Will I be able to just walk away from it and head back to New York? I firmly believe that things happen and don’t happen for reasons unexplained at the time. That is my mind speaking, but my heart just doesn’t get the concept.

nada

I am not sure what kind of reception I expect when coming home but I always find myself alone in my fantastic loft feeling a bit lonely and let down. I can’t really explain the phenomenon since everyone I know is visibly and communicably excited to see me. I built up anxiousness on this trip due to the seeing the ex in person factor and am a little relieved although let down to not have seen him yet. I was a bit deviant in my arrival to town, as I didn’t tell anyone the day ort time hoping to find out what happened in my house while I was thought to be 3000 miles away. The answer that came after a heart-pounding walk from the elevator to the key releasing the deadbolt was nothing. My house is immaculate; the only sign of the finance is a corny Valentines Day card.

I have decided to spend my expanded time here in PDX seeing the people I want to see, asking for things I want, and soaking up as much of the things I love about Oregon to last me another three months in the Northeast. A conversation with Jeff resurfaced last night about where my heart belongs. Am I a New Yorker or am I an Oregonian? The choice was unclear six months ago, but now it is becoming more obvious...

difficult request

I have been asked to let my dad know it was okay with me if he passes. How am I supposed to do such a thing? Granted it is difficult to see him suffer to watch what was the strongest man in my life now become week and reliant. It is difficult to watch the burden (only for lack of better terms) he is on my mother. Losing a parent at the age of 30 is something I am ready to physically deal with as the road to this day has been long and expected over the past two years, however I was not ready to verbally tell my dad anything other than the fact that I love him. I believe people hang on to life until they have closure with people or are able to say goodbye. I was hoping with my visit the permission would be implied. The weight on my heart has been lifted slightly through this visit and I am happy to say that I was able to say goodbye while he still remembered me, I was able to say goodbye in my own way that I have an hour to figure out how. I am happy to say that I was able to do one of my favorite things with my dad during this visit, watch a baseball game. Sadly, I am now the one who yells at the TV.

My goodbye was not verbal; I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I sat on my dad’s lap, held his hand, and talked. He finally asked me to get up as his frail leg was falling asleep. I hugged and kissed him goodbye.

blackout

The rain was coming down with such volience that it rebounded a foot after hitting the ground. The day had grown dark and I was relieved to be on the bus back to my car after a long day at work. Wilma took her time guiding the large vehicle safely to the lot. Stop number two was mine and I hopped off the bus and walked to my car to be greeted by a pool of water, it covered my ankles atop my high heels. I had no choice in my path and I walked through the cold water to reach my car. The windshield wipers did there best to clear my vision although it seemed as though the battle would soon be lost. I proceeded the usual way home, cutting through the Ironbound, a car pulled out in front of me, I honked then I looked at the road in front of me, there was a pool of water but it was so dark, I could not judge the depth. I proceeded and then saw cars stuck, I stopped, prayed, and slammed the car in reverse so I would not become a victim as well. I u-turned and proceeded back the high way where traffic moved slowly. I took the exit for the 21 and followed the cars, the exit I needed was closed due to flooding so I proceeded into downtown Newark. I thought I could figure out where to go, even though I had only been on that road riding a bus, I had no choice, I needed to get home. I turned down a familar street only to be greeted by darkness. The storm had cut the power to the lights and the surroundings. Panic set in and I turned to go in the direction of home but that had become a jumble in my mind when all I could think was this was the murder capital of America and I am driving through it at night, in uniform, with Oregon plates. Turn after turn got me no where familar and finally I looked for a police officer because I was not getting out of my car to ask for directions in my uniform. I found one, already with someone in the back and I pleaded with her to show me the way home. Her directions got me out of the getto but onto some other street parrelling MLK Blvd, which I know that you shouldn't go down in any city at any time of the day. I called my friend who lives here, unfortunatly one I hadn't talked to in a while, and asked him to guide me home. That he did and twenty minutes, now dry feet, and emotional exhausted I was never so happy to see this crumpy apartment.

dislikes

Things I dislike/boarderline loathe about Jersey

The horrilble smell
The asshole people
The obstacle course known as driving
Fur collared jackets
The filthy streets
The drivers, if you can call them that
The lack of healthy anything, food, gyms...
The short men that think they are alll that
My dirty aparrment
My roommate that is always here and thinks "Jersey's great"
The lack of Starbucks
The lack of my friends
The absense of manners
Walking to wash my clothes
The fact that I am so far away from home
The way I am feeling right now

friday the 13th

My bad luck today came in the form of a PBI turn at the butt-crack of dawn. I drove to the aiport in the dark mentally having myself already back in the car driving home. I was the lead, which I haven't been in months and it took a little bit to remember what the hell I was supposed to say. The boarding process was a nightmare and of course the passangers were as well. It took forever for the two of us to serve 148 people muffins and drinks and then we proceeded to hide back in the galley. The gorgeous FA and I hung out and looked at pictures and chatted while staying out the aisle. The flight home was just as bad with tons of specials: 6 ums, 5 maas, 4 whclrs, 2 jumpseaters, and 1 blind guy. The blind guy, David was very nice as I escorted him to his seat and told him to let me know if he needed anything. He seemed to know everytime I passed, because he would ask me for something. One time in passing he asked me if the people sitting next to him were from Isreal. I told him that I didn't know, and asked if that is what they told him. He replied yes, and then I said they probably don't have any reason to lie to you. Then he ask me (he is really loud) if I knew anything about Isreal...hum, no...have I ever been there?....again, no. I told him, I am sure these people would answer any questions you may have. Keep in mind majority of the plane is Jewish as he his yelling okay and my name. We ducked away in the back galley once more, this time after turkey sandwiches and prayed for a fast landing. Thank God that is over.

view

My excitement this morning consist of watching the house behind ours being tourn down as the rain is pouring down and making me even more homesick. The good thing about this destruction is that I am being kept occupied and now we will have a view of the city in the absence of this home. My tasks for the day is to mail off thank yous, do a bit of laundry, pick up a trip, and be lazy for the rest of the day. According to Christina, due to my actions last night, I get a week break from doing something that scares me everyday.
The drunk dial apparently made its point to 19C as he phoned the other night while I was in AUS. He called to ask me if I was going to be working his flight home from STL. Unfortunately I was not, however I did find out enough information to talk myself into getting all dolled up and meeting his flight. I stood there, outside the gate waiting for him to deplane. The reaction on his face was exactly what I was hoping for, total happy surprise. He rushed to me to hug and kiss me hello and we spent the little time we had together talking and clearly into each other. He got his driver to give me a ride back to my car and then he kissed me goodnight, reiterating what a great surprise I was at the end of a long day. Was all that effort of getting ready and going all the way to the airport to see him worth it? Absolutely!

no-brainer

Some things are no-brainers, laying low when you are the only white girl on the bus, not getting engaged after three months of dating, and not proclaiming your love for the Yankees while your in Beantown. I picked up a trip off airport alert yesterday and was delighted with the 0800 check-in. So delighted that C and I headed into the city to have dinner with "Big Daddy". I was texting him how much I missed my mom's annual ham dinner, and he invited red dress and I to the city for Easter dinner. Well, as you may have guessed, dinner (a big fat steak at Ben and Jacks)turned into drinks at Asia de Cuba (I have befriended the manager) to drinks at the W ("our W") at which point I drunk dialed 19C, to the G Spa to dancing at One. We didn't make it back home until 0330 and I played chauffer to the singing duet of my roomie and an ex-Yankee player. They sang to each other the whole drive home. The 0600 wake up call came too early but sat me out on a pretty easy trip that takes me to BOS tonight and AUS tomorrow evening. After a four hour nap, I made my way down the hotel restuarant for dinner and a beer. A classic Sox game was on due the day of rest and I felt it sacreligous to dare ask them to change the chanel to the Yankee game. Finally they did and I quietly routed on my team.

spades

"When the door of happiness closes, another opens;
but often times we look so long at the
closed door that we don't see the one,
which has been opened for us."

I don't usally pay much mind to my mom's forwards but I read this one during my first time alone since the "exciting news". I was struggling to figure out where I stood in my emotions and kept going back and forth with letting go. I took some advice from long ago when my heart was heavy and decided to just put it out into the universe. I made the call from SAT and emptied my thoughts into the receiver. At the end of twenty minutes I was able to close the door.

This trip was hectic to say the least with ground holds, holding patterns, plane swaps due to a cracked windshield, late arrivals, and weather. Our last leg home was scheduled for four hours block (gate to gate) however it end up to be almost six and a half. The crew got to the gate on time to sit and wait for the plane, I was scoping out the crowd, as I always do, and noticed a cute guy in a Red Sox shirt. He was one of the last to board and I held him up so the goody-goody flight attendant could get back up the aisle and so I could chat with him. He sat in 6C which was perfect for the eye contact and smiling through out the flight. My section was easy without much need of service and I was bored out my mind. I recoginized the one of my passangers was bored as well. I asked him if he wanted to play cards and he almosted shouted yes; so I grabbed my deck of pink cards, an atlas carrier to sit on, and sat down in the aisle. I taught him to play spades and ended up with a chuckle from everyone around; even 6C looked down to see what I was doing. He caught my attention and asked to use my lav up front, I am usually a natzi about it, but for him, I made the exception. He asked what I was playing, I told him spades and asked if he would like me to come and play with him. He was said yes. I quickly rapped up my game with the Brit and took my atlas carrier back to the sixth row. His name was Ryan and the next hour was spent flirting and getting to know each other. I had to cut it short because we were going into initial decent. He beat me only because I taught him about the blind bid. I wrapped up my business upfront and wrote my number on a napkin. In flowing Christina's advice of doing something everyday that scares you, I balls up and headed back towards my jumpseat. I walked passed him and said, "It is presumputious of me to think you may want this, but I would really love to see you again." He said thank you with an adorable smile and I walked as fast as I could to safety. I ran into him after we deplaned and he thanked me for my number and told me he was going to use it. Apparently the guy next to him gave him props for scoring my number.
Look at that, an open door...

mfe

I am rounding out the cities we fly to in Texas by over-nighting in the end of the earth, McAllen. I picked this trip up simply to work, it was not my first or second choice but it allowed me to work first class and not be at the mercy of scheduling. The check was later than I was used to so I took the morning to run errands and pack. This proved for a very long day, as we didn’t get here until midnight. A perk about being a stone throw away from Mexico is the free breakfast buffet. I scheduled my wake up call in order to check it out. The elevator door opened and the noise of Spanish filled my ears, I walked into the dining room and it seemed like they were handing out green cards because of the sheer volume of people eating the free food. There was no lines or order to the situation so I grabbed what I could and made my way out the lobby to eat. Sometimes free is not worth the chaos.
Today will be another long day as we go back to IAH then to MSY and back and then onto SAT. It seems like I am there every couple of weeks or so. I call this trip, the tour of Texas. I do, however have a crew that will not get me in trouble this trip do to the fact that I tower over each of them and one of them is so new, so sheltered that she doesn’t know what the hell is going on. She is so afraid she is going to get in trouble if she is not by the book. It’s funny but I can foresee it getting on my nerves soon. Last night she was bending over looking between the plane and the jet way. I asked her what the hell she was doing and she replied, “I was looking to see if the squiggly line was going around on the propeller”. What?! I explained to her that the engines needed to be off while we were parked at the gate. A part of me wishes we had a great layover because I would take her out, spike her drink, and show her a good time. She has lived her parents until she was 28, twenty-eight can you imagine?

chicago (the band not the city)

They say alcohol is a depressant; certainly not at the time of intake or the hours after when I find it necessary to dance and flash people. No, it is the morning after when you have to get up and go back to work with cabin pressure making your head pound. I believe my reaction would have been the same even if I was not hungover or on my period. I returned the call from the ex to confirm my suspision that he was dating someone, but the news that sunk my heart was the impending engagement. I held back the tears on the phone and asked the polite questions so he won't know my sadness. You know the tough front I always need to have up. He is not the one although I did have him as my comfortable fall back. That is now gone and I feel selfish in the fact that it should be me with the "exciting news" that I have found someone. I have thought about my past relationships and it seems like I am the one who makes my partner a better man for the next girl. I have dubbed it relationship rehab. This is what I explain to my mom through a flood of tears and her reply was perfect, "someone is fixing up your guy right now".

Chicago will be in my cd player for a while...

fl-co-fl

You would think I turned 21 instead of 30 last week the way I have been carrying on. I picked up a trip with a guy I had flown with previously and knew it would be trouble because a. he likes to drink and b. he kissed me in the galley last time. However I still picked it up. My classmate was the addition to the crew that would greatly enjoy the weekend. We started off with a Boston turn and then headed to Tampa. A quick nap preceded our evening at the Blue Martini. The band was great, the cocktail waitress’ gorgeous, and the drinks went down a little too smooth. It was just three of us the first night but the following evening we recruited the classmate for our adventure in Colorado. A twenty-four hour layover in Montrose could be considered boring due the quietness of the town, it actually reminded me of Klamath. The 25-year-old first officer instead rented a car, the cobalt, and took us on up to Telluride. The drive was spectacular with the snow kissing the ground and the mountains carved out of red rocks. Drinks and the jukebox followed dinner. A few bar hops later and I determined it would be a good idea to join in on the boobs up against the steamed glass window fun. I left my mark, literally on Telluride. The car ride home was me passed out and sinking lower and lower by the minute. Thank goodness for the late check in and ride to the airport from Fox, whom everyone in town seemed to know. The flight from MTJ, not Montego Bay Jamaica as our captain pack for, to EWR was a nightmare! All these rich assholes and their brat children. I have a strong belief that children should not be allowed to sit in first class. Only rich, good-looking businessmen please! The next leg landed us in SYR, which is a great place to be right after Florida made it to the NCAA championship game that night. I however, am not rooting for them since they beat my Ducks and I proceeded to tell everyone that. We got to the hotel at 2300 and it took some convincing to get me out but finally I said what the hell. This time we were able to recruit our captain and two other pilots from Express. The security guard gave us a ride downtown to Gators and within moments a cosmo was in my hand. Shots followed along with dancing and singing Sweet Caroline at the top of our lungs when the security guard came and picked us up around 0130. The night manager was nice enough to make us cookies and I am sure got a kick out of the drunken chaos we were. Day four was brutal with three legs, ground delays in DTW, and holding patterns. I didn’t make it home until 2200 and am sad to only have one day off before I do it all again.