So here I sit on the jump seat, waiting patiently for the next 2 hours and 45 minutes to be complete…okay, maybe not so patient. It is the last leg, the final time I will sit as a working crewmember.
Even after my thirty minute snooze in the pit, I am still tired but able to function a bit more than this morning. It was a long morning to say the least with emotions and nerves on edge. I awoke almost six hours prior to wake up and could not go back to sleep. Around 0330 I gave into it and just got up and worked on my new adventure. Eight hours of sleep in the last two days has put me on edge to say the least. Since I am working my favorite position a coffee and a little something in my stomach usually put me right back on course no matter how much sleep preceded my day. Today not so much. The passengers are exhausting; they are majority upgrades and people who you can tell they have never flown first class. Let’s review…
1A upgrade who is very kind and clueless so will accept anything I offer. thought about saying, “dirty cookie off the floor and milk?” she would have taken it.
1F Carol, she is well trained, no issues there
2AB the woman is my least favorite and you can tell they have never been up here before, she is asking me to take photos of them and asking for oj and champagne. As of right now, 2/3 through the flight they have had at least 15 different drinks. She wants this and then they want try this drink…no, that’s not what they wanted. When presenting the cheese and sundae cart, they told me they would have it later. Uhm, no this is now not at your leisure, we are not on a cruise ship. I go and pick up her glass of baileys on the rocks which when she ordered it she wanted irish cream in a glass. “on the rocks ma’am?” no with ice…I ask her if she would like another and instead of answering she just tapped her glass. “I don’t know what that means ma’am” another “another baileys’ on the rocks please?” yeah. Then she comes up and wants an irish coffee. We ask her repeatedly if she wants baileys and coffee or a real irish coffee with whiskey explaining to her that we don’t have Jameson. Chris goes through all this work to make one and she doesn’t like it. I am doing cookie service and she doesn’t allow her husband to have his own. I am sure they will piss me off some more in the next couple of hours and try eight more drinks.
2E He’s for sure a Texan. He knows what he wants and says please and thank you. Sold!
3A arrived late, brushed me off when I tried to take his order and when I returned to see if he was ready he told me it was 0900, no sir it is 0400. He fell asleep after take off and I went to close his window shades and he woke up and opened all three of them back up. He’s an idiot but he hasn’t asked for very much.
3B totally nice and kinda cute. Ordered an exec meal and then crashed out. Says please and thank you. You can tell he is a fist class person.
3D he is nice and a little needy but nothing compared to the rest.
3E is traveling with her non rev family and needs to have her snotty attitude beaten out of her.
4AB super nice girls, very polite nothing like the older sister
4DE very nice and polite non revs although any time one orders something, the other one wants the same. I feel like asking the guy if he’d like a blow job to see if the wife says “me too”
My cookie service which usually takes 3 minutes took around 15 with all the stupid questions, requests and demands. I present a tray of cookies and milk and say, “fresh baked cookies and milk?” what is it? WTF does it look like?
It is kind of relief because for a minute on the way over and a minute or two on the layover I thought about how much I would miss this. But today, and these people and my lack of being a “paris, first class, international” flight attendant reminds me that I am so over this. I am ready to begin a career with fresh air, non preservative food, non-nylon wearing, no talking back, happy to see me, no plane bloat, no more polyester, no more brushing my teeth with bottled water, no more thank you, have a nice, bye-byes. Bring on the dogs!
editors note: to add to the exhaustion of the flight was a dirty look from 2B during the buh-byes and then I had the pleasure of being dragged into secondary customs office and then through agriculture. Just an extra sigh of relief that this journey is now complete.
30 August 2009
28 August 2009
one last time
I am wide awake at 0149 when the wake up and van time are 0640/0740. I did the proper things of only taking an 3 hour nap on arrival, walking around all day, and having dinner which a single cocktail. I did not however stay up until midnight as I usually try and do because my body screamed at me me to get some rest. Three hours and and then I had to use the bathroom, three hours and the mind went from dreaming about my last flight to mind spinning about it and then next couple of weeks.
Here in Manchester where I have log more time than past relationships, I experience what will most likely be my last layover. In eight hours I will be aboard my last flight as a flight attendant and even though I have longed for the day to be released from scheduling control, I am sad. The first pang of it hit my yesterday when Carol and I were doing the only the thing a straight girl could do here, shop. We found fun dress up for adult shops in the mall and I was wandering around trying to put together my Halloween costume since I always like things to be original. The hurry up and figure it out because you are never going to be back here and life isn't going to be "I'll look for it on a layover in England" ever again. My next year's costume will come from a domestic shop and most likely only one from Portland.
I have been advised to actually feel what is transpiring instead of sharing it with the world. It is advice that struck me as odd when I first read it considering the source. How does this guy know me so well? I haven't allowed myself to shed more than a handful of tears at a given time about this next move. The tears have come with thoughts of finality and lost. Majority of the tears came at my going away party of which only a handful of people showed up to but was a success in mind as those people I care about most were there. It was after the attempt to bribe everyone in the bar out $5 and their guess of my next destination for charity that the band serenaded me with "leaving on a jet plane". I sat there in between the three guys and really listened to the song, watching Carrie and Lauren the tears began to flow as I realized that once again I am leaving great friends. I think this is why it took so long to make friends here because I didn't want to feel this awful pain again. It is why I hit self destruct with Joe, it is why I distanced myself from everyone. "Babe I hate to go".
Three have been bag under my eyes for weeks now and the weight keeps hanging on even though I tell myself it is just plane or humidity bloat. Carol made the comment that it will be nice when I get back into a gym routine, Although I don't think it was malicious, now I just look in the mirror with hope that once things get straighten out and are "normal" once more, I can be back to the happy shape.
For now it is back to the second bed to pray for silence of the brain even as Carol's snoring is the background for rest, and some sleep before I put on that uniform and first class smile one last time.
Here in Manchester where I have log more time than past relationships, I experience what will most likely be my last layover. In eight hours I will be aboard my last flight as a flight attendant and even though I have longed for the day to be released from scheduling control, I am sad. The first pang of it hit my yesterday when Carol and I were doing the only the thing a straight girl could do here, shop. We found fun dress up for adult shops in the mall and I was wandering around trying to put together my Halloween costume since I always like things to be original. The hurry up and figure it out because you are never going to be back here and life isn't going to be "I'll look for it on a layover in England" ever again. My next year's costume will come from a domestic shop and most likely only one from Portland.
I have been advised to actually feel what is transpiring instead of sharing it with the world. It is advice that struck me as odd when I first read it considering the source. How does this guy know me so well? I haven't allowed myself to shed more than a handful of tears at a given time about this next move. The tears have come with thoughts of finality and lost. Majority of the tears came at my going away party of which only a handful of people showed up to but was a success in mind as those people I care about most were there. It was after the attempt to bribe everyone in the bar out $5 and their guess of my next destination for charity that the band serenaded me with "leaving on a jet plane". I sat there in between the three guys and really listened to the song, watching Carrie and Lauren the tears began to flow as I realized that once again I am leaving great friends. I think this is why it took so long to make friends here because I didn't want to feel this awful pain again. It is why I hit self destruct with Joe, it is why I distanced myself from everyone. "Babe I hate to go".
Three have been bag under my eyes for weeks now and the weight keeps hanging on even though I tell myself it is just plane or humidity bloat. Carol made the comment that it will be nice when I get back into a gym routine, Although I don't think it was malicious, now I just look in the mirror with hope that once things get straighten out and are "normal" once more, I can be back to the happy shape.
For now it is back to the second bed to pray for silence of the brain even as Carol's snoring is the background for rest, and some sleep before I put on that uniform and first class smile one last time.
25 August 2009
expectations
I would consider myself someone with very high expectations. I always play out scenarios in my head about everything, I usually want things to adhere to the play by plays in my head and they usually don't. I find myself disappointed more often than not. I would also say that I have gotten used to things not playing out perfectly so much so that when things do go smoothly or get done without a lot of hassle, I stop and wonder why.
Perfect example is the week which I have named I heart NY week. Instead of going on one last holiday I elected to stay in NYC and do those things I always wanted to do, or what I dub my nyc bucket list. First stop on my I heart NY week was the Hamptons thanks to the generosity of my friend Lindsey it only cost me a train ticket. We had a great time laying out and enjoying the world of the rich (viewing not living) and although it would have been nice to walk around the beach towns, it was a nice little journey. Friday I spent a wonderful lunch with Beth and worked on business plans over a couple glasses of wine before returning home for a quick cat nap and final shift at Brother Jimmys. I worked downstairs and it was not the usual run around with your head cut off shift, it was nice and mellow. On the walk home was the whole penis incident which completely ruined my mood for the evening.
Saturday it took everything I had to get out of the house to go to the library. Finally at four after 2 afternoon naps I made my way there and got my very own library card but found the gorgeous space a little overwhelm for the simple book check out. I then decided to take my cuteness to 230 Fifth for a drink on the rooftop. The view was amazing but the waitress completely ignored me so I got up and left. I ended up walking the rest of the way home and getting a burger for dinner instead. I spent the night in wishing someone would call and invite me to something fancy.
Sunday was lunch with Lance and instead of going out he wanted to throw me a farewell brunch party at his place. All of my girlfriends were busy so I went solo. I was the first to arrive and when Mousier asked me what I wanted to drink he was floored by my request for a bloody mary and then nixed the mimosa too. I ended up with oj and vodka while Lance went out to get burgers to grill. I only knew 2 people for the whole thing and finally felt I paid my dues and left around 7. I wanted eggs Benedict and bloody marys not burgers and wine. And even though it was the generous thought behind it, it made me realize that I wanted to come home. To attend parties where people didn't ask me who was this girl that was leaving. Parties where if my zipper broke on my dress someone would be smart enough to help me duct tape it together properly. I wound up in bed at 830 and happy to be alone.
The next day was Portland which was awesome because I had no expectations. The only expectation I have concerning the city is when I was going to get back to it. Mental planning had me coming back after my trip to Greece with the girls next week and then grown up time would begin. Now that plan has become murky as well since an extension of the apt swap is now on the table.
I have my buh bye party tonight and even though I am trying not to, I have a hope that it is successful and people have fun.
Just where exactly do expectations come from?
Perfect example is the week which I have named I heart NY week. Instead of going on one last holiday I elected to stay in NYC and do those things I always wanted to do, or what I dub my nyc bucket list. First stop on my I heart NY week was the Hamptons thanks to the generosity of my friend Lindsey it only cost me a train ticket. We had a great time laying out and enjoying the world of the rich (viewing not living) and although it would have been nice to walk around the beach towns, it was a nice little journey. Friday I spent a wonderful lunch with Beth and worked on business plans over a couple glasses of wine before returning home for a quick cat nap and final shift at Brother Jimmys. I worked downstairs and it was not the usual run around with your head cut off shift, it was nice and mellow. On the walk home was the whole penis incident which completely ruined my mood for the evening.
Saturday it took everything I had to get out of the house to go to the library. Finally at four after 2 afternoon naps I made my way there and got my very own library card but found the gorgeous space a little overwhelm for the simple book check out. I then decided to take my cuteness to 230 Fifth for a drink on the rooftop. The view was amazing but the waitress completely ignored me so I got up and left. I ended up walking the rest of the way home and getting a burger for dinner instead. I spent the night in wishing someone would call and invite me to something fancy.
Sunday was lunch with Lance and instead of going out he wanted to throw me a farewell brunch party at his place. All of my girlfriends were busy so I went solo. I was the first to arrive and when Mousier asked me what I wanted to drink he was floored by my request for a bloody mary and then nixed the mimosa too. I ended up with oj and vodka while Lance went out to get burgers to grill. I only knew 2 people for the whole thing and finally felt I paid my dues and left around 7. I wanted eggs Benedict and bloody marys not burgers and wine. And even though it was the generous thought behind it, it made me realize that I wanted to come home. To attend parties where people didn't ask me who was this girl that was leaving. Parties where if my zipper broke on my dress someone would be smart enough to help me duct tape it together properly. I wound up in bed at 830 and happy to be alone.
The next day was Portland which was awesome because I had no expectations. The only expectation I have concerning the city is when I was going to get back to it. Mental planning had me coming back after my trip to Greece with the girls next week and then grown up time would begin. Now that plan has become murky as well since an extension of the apt swap is now on the table.
I have my buh bye party tonight and even though I am trying not to, I have a hope that it is successful and people have fun.
Just where exactly do expectations come from?
22 August 2009
why it's important to be a new yorker
I finished what will most likely be my last shift at the old restaurant and in an effort to safe money and myself a headache in the morning I went home following my shift. It was a gorgeous evening so I opted to walk the 45 blocks home. I made my way through my favorite streets jamming to my ipod and taking in the night life and people that surrounded me. I was almost home and noticed a van coming out of Minetta Lane. It is a gorgeous tiny street and it it unusual to see cars on it. When I passed in front of it the man asked me if I knew where Christoper Street was. I explained to him the best way I knew how to get there only because I only walk around the area, my directions were a bit strange. He explained to me that he was just looking for a good bar. I told him to turn back around and go to Bleeker Street in the village. And then he asked me if I was going to a bar and I said, no that I was returning home from work at a bar. He asked me again about Christopher Street and I was giving him a size up to let him know it was the gay district and I looked down for the spilt second it took to see his penis. Staring right at me in some form fitting beer coosie like thing.
"All right, that's enough! I said with shock and disbelief about what I just saw and what I can't erase from my mind as we speak 20 minutes later. No more Oregon nice girl for the remainder of the time here it has to be the fuck-you New Yorker as I am not in the mood to see any more penis.
"All right, that's enough! I said with shock and disbelief about what I just saw and what I can't erase from my mind as we speak 20 minutes later. No more Oregon nice girl for the remainder of the time here it has to be the fuck-you New Yorker as I am not in the mood to see any more penis.
18 August 2009
2?
So my well planned out month of working hit the brakes in a usual (for this year) fashion. After purposely picking up a trip to ensure I was good for another three day trip to come my way. Well, I spent all day yesterday with both phones in my audrey hepburn bag walking around in the incrediable heat of the city. I picked up things for my upcoming party and ended the day perfectly with dinner and drinks with my friend Carrie.
I had a feeling I would get airport alert today, and wall-la here, I am. I am sitting domestic airport alert and am currently not phased as I brought my computer occupying myself with design work. I have 45 minutes left and hope to just sit here with no destination so I can take off for the beach tomorrow.
I am always amazed to sit here and watch flight attendants during airport alert. Most likely there is crap tv on in the background and many of them are glued to it. Some nap when the mecca of chairs, one of the seven lazy boys, is obtained. Most watch things on their computers or talk loudly on their phones. And depending on the hour of the day, most sit around and talk gossip about the company and complain about anything and everything.
People of every age, race and religion gather here in the basement waiting for the bat phone to ring to send them away or that fantastic place called home.
I had a feeling I would get airport alert today, and wall-la here, I am. I am sitting domestic airport alert and am currently not phased as I brought my computer occupying myself with design work. I have 45 minutes left and hope to just sit here with no destination so I can take off for the beach tomorrow.
I am always amazed to sit here and watch flight attendants during airport alert. Most likely there is crap tv on in the background and many of them are glued to it. Some nap when the mecca of chairs, one of the seven lazy boys, is obtained. Most watch things on their computers or talk loudly on their phones. And depending on the hour of the day, most sit around and talk gossip about the company and complain about anything and everything.
People of every age, race and religion gather here in the basement waiting for the bat phone to ring to send them away or that fantastic place called home.
17 August 2009
depression war
Depression about leaving everything I have known or not known for the past three years is sneaking up on me. I take that back, it didn't take long for me to recognize what was happening. All my body wants to do is eat and sleep; I have had this happen before. There are days that it wins the battle and I sleep until the afternoon and then go straight to work. There are days when I win and I actually get out and do things. Today was half and half.
I was so tired after meeting the crew for dinner that my body refused to function and with the fear of getting sick, I allowed myself to go straight to bed. Well, when I woke up at 0100 to use the bathroom, it of course was all over until 0530 when I finally fell back to sleep. We didn't have crew rest on this flight so I was a long day. The commute home was hot and muggy and needless to say, I was not happy to have to walk 10 extra blocks in my uniform since my stop was closed on the C train. I took the coldest shower and then made the mistake of sitting down on my bed. Four hours later I made myself get up. I went to the computer and uploaded some photos and then glanced to the left. The western sky was a gorgeous pink and in the instant the old self took over and I grabbed my camera and ran out the door.
I spent the next five hours walking around the city. It was wonderful, the weather had finally given in to a slight breeze and the miles faded away with the hours.
I walked majority of the way home from 53rd on 5th Avenue and then moved over to 6th Ave. It was funny to walk by the old PATH stops where we used to come into the city when we lived in jersey. I smiled as I walked by the church from Halloween and the Starbucks and the papaya dog. I walked by the corner of 9th Street and remembered that is where mob boss used to pick me up for our dates. It was a silly memory but good one none the less. It was more of a full circle realization of how far I have come in three years.
My goal is to be myself as much as possible and to continue to soak up this incredible city that I have had the great fortune of calling my home.
I was so tired after meeting the crew for dinner that my body refused to function and with the fear of getting sick, I allowed myself to go straight to bed. Well, when I woke up at 0100 to use the bathroom, it of course was all over until 0530 when I finally fell back to sleep. We didn't have crew rest on this flight so I was a long day. The commute home was hot and muggy and needless to say, I was not happy to have to walk 10 extra blocks in my uniform since my stop was closed on the C train. I took the coldest shower and then made the mistake of sitting down on my bed. Four hours later I made myself get up. I went to the computer and uploaded some photos and then glanced to the left. The western sky was a gorgeous pink and in the instant the old self took over and I grabbed my camera and ran out the door.
I spent the next five hours walking around the city. It was wonderful, the weather had finally given in to a slight breeze and the miles faded away with the hours.
I walked majority of the way home from 53rd on 5th Avenue and then moved over to 6th Ave. It was funny to walk by the old PATH stops where we used to come into the city when we lived in jersey. I smiled as I walked by the church from Halloween and the Starbucks and the papaya dog. I walked by the corner of 9th Street and remembered that is where mob boss used to pick me up for our dates. It was a silly memory but good one none the less. It was more of a full circle realization of how far I have come in three years.
My goal is to be myself as much as possible and to continue to soak up this incredible city that I have had the great fortune of calling my home.
lhr....3 to go
Much to my dismay I hadn't changed my availability choice to request to fly so I was forced into picking up a trip to ensure I flew instead of waiting around for scheduling. There were only two destinations in open time and I opted to pick up a position I liked instead of destination; the lesser of two evils I suppose. My least favorite trip is London, we all know that and now we stay out by the airport so you can't even walk around, there is nothing I was informed so I prepared for a day of rest and boredom.
Quick synapse of the flight. I adore the purser, we have flown trips together and he worked pretty much with me. The other aisle girls...I called them the dumb one and the smart one. It took me a couple hours to snap at the dumb one for all of her questions and lack of knowledge of first class service. The mid galley person who has the easiest job on the plane is supposed to assist us in the end with the extra carts. Well we up front, smoked them and ended up giving them our carts. I wasn't planning on this so I was not too happy to be doing her job as well.
Funny thing: during deplaning a lady asked me about her violin and where it was. I looked in the closet and didn't see anything and then asked her who she gave it to. "A girl with dark hair"...we all have dark hair. "well I didn't receive a claim ticket or anything" ma'am, this isn't a coat check.
We got to have some fun while waiting for the bus to pick us up from the plane by taking pictures in the 777 engine. The penance was paid by me because then the sleaze bag captain found it necessary to talk to me and tell my inappropriate stories for the 40 minute bus ride. Same captain that hooked up with some chick on the layover and then paraded her around when the crew met in the morning. I am sorry, this is not the 60's you are in your 60's for chrissakes!
The flight went by pretty fast on the way home because I was work, work, working in the galley. Glad to be doing so as London is upgrade/miles central and the passengers are usually....domestic like.
so the next two trips are out of my hands...two more to go, is kind of sad and then i have a trip where security takes my things to freshen up with during the flight with snotty attitudes and all I can think is...it's almost over.
Quick synapse of the flight. I adore the purser, we have flown trips together and he worked pretty much with me. The other aisle girls...I called them the dumb one and the smart one. It took me a couple hours to snap at the dumb one for all of her questions and lack of knowledge of first class service. The mid galley person who has the easiest job on the plane is supposed to assist us in the end with the extra carts. Well we up front, smoked them and ended up giving them our carts. I wasn't planning on this so I was not too happy to be doing her job as well.
Funny thing: during deplaning a lady asked me about her violin and where it was. I looked in the closet and didn't see anything and then asked her who she gave it to. "A girl with dark hair"...we all have dark hair. "well I didn't receive a claim ticket or anything" ma'am, this isn't a coat check.
We got to have some fun while waiting for the bus to pick us up from the plane by taking pictures in the 777 engine. The penance was paid by me because then the sleaze bag captain found it necessary to talk to me and tell my inappropriate stories for the 40 minute bus ride. Same captain that hooked up with some chick on the layover and then paraded her around when the crew met in the morning. I am sorry, this is not the 60's you are in your 60's for chrissakes!
The flight went by pretty fast on the way home because I was work, work, working in the galley. Glad to be doing so as London is upgrade/miles central and the passengers are usually....domestic like.
so the next two trips are out of my hands...two more to go, is kind of sad and then i have a trip where security takes my things to freshen up with during the flight with snotty attitudes and all I can think is...it's almost over.
12 August 2009
high school posters
I used to have this poster in my room growing up, I am not sure when I first got it but I know that it was on my wall during my high school and a during the year I lived at home during college. I was a drama student and was in a phase of the mask. i loved them and even had to make one of my own face in drama class out of paper mache. The poster was of a hand removing a mask from a face, they were identical. The white hand had perfect red fingernails and the mask which it held was a gorgeous woman. Only her features where detailed, the eyes with long lashes, the ideal nose, the rosy high cheek bones, the lips were bright red and in the shape of a smile. The face which was being unveiled in the poster was ideal in the features except the eyes were sadder and the mouth was expressionless and there was a single tear gliding down the high cheek bone.
I received a note on my FB wall today:
Hey just looking through your photos finally you look beautiful and looks like you have a great group of friends!
It caught me off guard as I was mentally looking through my photos and I guess I do post all the good times and those good times are mostly with my friends. Travel aside, I don't go around taking photos of myself having dinner or just hanging out alone. I do project that life. I hear it all the time, "what an exciting life you lead". "sex in the city life" "you have so many friends" "you are constantly doing something" "you really know how to live". I completely agree with these outside views when I am motivated to get out of the apartment and take the world by the horns. What you don't see in my status updates, or photos or even in my stories sometimes is how freakin lonely I am. I keep myself busy in order not to think about it, and of course I am not lonely when I am with my true friends here which I can count on one hand. And granted there are those moments that I love being alone. I have begged to live alone for three years and at last, I do. I was laying in bed last night unable to sleep from the hours of 330 to 430 and thinking that I would like to be in my bed in Portland. I was thinking about who I could call and chat with and no one came to mind that would appreciate a call that late even with the time difference. I started and the ceiling and thought about what I would be doing if I was "home". Then it hit me, I would be doing the same exact thing. And that is when I fell asleep.
I know I am depressed about leaving, about making another life change. My body is telling me with tummy upset and a few zits. I want to sleep all the time and have arguments with my eyes to stay open and get out to do things. I think I have it all planned out but thinking about the details drives me mad, so I push then aside.
I have been dating this guy for a month or so. We have fun together and I had the upper hand, so much to the fact he was texting me that he thought about me and missed me. I guess that is all it took for the self destruct mode to set in unconsciously. I ruined the "relationship" last week by blatantly flirting with other boys while we were at the bar. We didn't come together, he came with a group of friends, and I with Carrie. I can use alcohol as the reason for my stupidity but it is not an excuse. And then I was upset when he left not even realizing what I did until the next day after the hangover left. I sent an apology but didn't hear back. I went out last night in hopes to see him. I only had beer and wanted so badly for him to walk through that door and forgive me. He never showed and I continued to kick myself for the rest of the evening. Granted I wasn't out for a long term thing, I just liked having someone around, someone who adored me.
So I will continue wear the mask of beauty and happiness. The three great finds at the thrift store this afternoon will help keep this mirage in place.
I received a note on my FB wall today:
Hey just looking through your photos finally you look beautiful and looks like you have a great group of friends!
It caught me off guard as I was mentally looking through my photos and I guess I do post all the good times and those good times are mostly with my friends. Travel aside, I don't go around taking photos of myself having dinner or just hanging out alone. I do project that life. I hear it all the time, "what an exciting life you lead". "sex in the city life" "you have so many friends" "you are constantly doing something" "you really know how to live". I completely agree with these outside views when I am motivated to get out of the apartment and take the world by the horns. What you don't see in my status updates, or photos or even in my stories sometimes is how freakin lonely I am. I keep myself busy in order not to think about it, and of course I am not lonely when I am with my true friends here which I can count on one hand. And granted there are those moments that I love being alone. I have begged to live alone for three years and at last, I do. I was laying in bed last night unable to sleep from the hours of 330 to 430 and thinking that I would like to be in my bed in Portland. I was thinking about who I could call and chat with and no one came to mind that would appreciate a call that late even with the time difference. I started and the ceiling and thought about what I would be doing if I was "home". Then it hit me, I would be doing the same exact thing. And that is when I fell asleep.
I know I am depressed about leaving, about making another life change. My body is telling me with tummy upset and a few zits. I want to sleep all the time and have arguments with my eyes to stay open and get out to do things. I think I have it all planned out but thinking about the details drives me mad, so I push then aside.
I have been dating this guy for a month or so. We have fun together and I had the upper hand, so much to the fact he was texting me that he thought about me and missed me. I guess that is all it took for the self destruct mode to set in unconsciously. I ruined the "relationship" last week by blatantly flirting with other boys while we were at the bar. We didn't come together, he came with a group of friends, and I with Carrie. I can use alcohol as the reason for my stupidity but it is not an excuse. And then I was upset when he left not even realizing what I did until the next day after the hangover left. I sent an apology but didn't hear back. I went out last night in hopes to see him. I only had beer and wanted so badly for him to walk through that door and forgive me. He never showed and I continued to kick myself for the rest of the evening. Granted I wasn't out for a long term thing, I just liked having someone around, someone who adored me.
So I will continue wear the mask of beauty and happiness. The three great finds at the thrift store this afternoon will help keep this mirage in place.
11 August 2009
4430 t.a.b.…four
At first I logged onto the computer after the silence of the two phones laying next to me left me wondering what was up the shelve of scheduling. It was dark outside and coupled with the strange fact that I have been actually working this month as well as it being a Sunday told me there would be something awaiting me. My favorite airport arrest was assigned for 1730. I acknowledged the trip and then dicked around on Facebook, man that site is a time-suck! After milling about the empty apartment, eating lunch and reading a bit of the $5 Sunday Times, I logged back into the computer to find another message waiting for me, they had changed my schedule to FRA. I’ll take that in a heartbeat. So the series of good trips has continued.
Commuting to the airport is pretty easy these days, in fact I now do it my uniform as to save time at the airport and I know longer care about people staring at me wondering why I am not on an airplane. It has been a wee bit hot this summer so I was a little sweaty by the time the C train stopped at Port Authority. I check to see if the bus was there and with its absence, I ran over and grabbed a salad from the café. I walk past the 20 people waiting for the bus to give the key my ticket and he tells me to bring my bag up so I can be first on the bus. We discuss the Dominican parade and then the theory my hairdresser shared with me about the Dominican girls being the best at blowouts. He agrees and gives me the card to a barbershop he owns.
On to the bus where everyone looks at me as I board; I have the ipod in and sit at my seat for the 40-minute drive. Inevitably tons of people get off at terminal A and then get back on the bus after their mistake. Happens everyday; it’s comical when I have extra time, not so much when I am in a hurry. Today, luckily I am not in a hurry; in fact security line was wide open and waiting for me. I got to the crew room and checked in for my flight, printed my pairing and sat down with my salad. I chit chatted with some friends and killed the 20 minutes prior to my arrival at the gate.
Gate 128 had a gathering of the blue uniforms and still showed FRA, so I walked up to the gate and did the usual introductions. I was assigned to work in the back so I kept my ears open for the want of someone upfront who wanted to switch. Sure as shit, I got my first class aisle. Since this is a flight with speakers it was Hilda and I as the aisle people. I got the drinks for everyone and passed out papers as I was supposed to do and then picked up a bit of her slack. It became an ironic theme of the day since she thinks she wrote the book on service.
This is a rare-for-me flight in which we receive crew rest on the way over, so there is an automatic urgency to get the service done, as everyone is excited about break. I worked as efficiently as possible but had those 10 people who wanted to enjoy every course, conversation and drink possible. Fine by me as I realize how much they paid for their ticket and I like being in the aisle. I was a bit out of practice with the service has I have been in sewage for the past couple of trips plus this was a wide body and there was two us up there. I let Hilda set up as clearly she had her way of doing things, and that’s alright with me, just give me a heads up instead of yelling at me for putting a used glass in the glass rack which you don’t want used until later. So the service went on and only one person came up to help us finish, she ended up yelling at him, the guy born in NY with an attitude that I love. He gave it right back to her much to my unrestrained amusement. As I am on the cheese cart, I am getting looks from the mid galley to hurry up as they stuff their face with leftover food. I give a dirty look back as they are doing nothing to help me finish and I actually slowed down my pace a bit. Guess who was on break last.
The switch of breaks left me in the first class galley alone and up comes the other reserve to raid the leftover wine. We ended up chatting and he is a riot. He has/is leading an envied (at times) life to me; completely bumming through. Has been a ski lift operator and then spent his summer surfing, been around Europe on a $1000, writes for a magazine and general lives the hell of life on the least amount of money possible. He has an infectious laugh as well and I get a kick out of his stories, thus we decided to bum around on the layover together.
The flight ends after a read-my-mind-you should be over there not here breakfast service. I was happy to be on board the crew bus, ipod in heading for Mainz. We stay in this adorable German town about 40 minutes away from the airport. I have been here twice and wandered about both times taking in the German culture that I adore. We got our rooms and at first I felt like going straight out but after a shower, the tiredness hit so I took a three-hour nap. Let me tell ya, it is damn difficult to force your body to wake up and get out of bed after such a short time. Luckily my motivation was more stories from my new friend and meeting the crew for dinner.
We walked and chatted and matched wit around this quaint town. When I walked up to the desk to get a map just in case, the receptionist asked us if we wanted to see something special? Being that the Germans have quite the reputation for freaking behind close doors, the question caught me off guard momentary but then she happily circled the dome and the old part of town. So we walked and chatted and then came upon a slide. I ran up the hill happily and climbed up the fort like contraption that would never go over in the states due to its liability risk and slid down. We wrapped up our walk in time to meet the crew for beers in the lobby bar. Eight of us showed up for beer and dinner, which is a pretty good, turn out for a crew. The beers were 2 for 1 and we sat and drank and came up with business plans for fishermen out at sea. Great group of people so it was a pleasure to be out and even better when our nice captain picked up the bill.
We all went to dinner and the camaraderie continued over another glass of beer and schnitzel. We topped off the evening with spaghetti icce, a helping of vanilla gelato pushed through a play dough like noodle maker with strawberry topping and white chocolate shavings.
I came back to the room and forced myself to stay awake for an hour more hoping to sleep until wake up. I chose to do this by watching the only movie I recognized on the telly, Showgirls…still sinks even in German.
I awoke at 0630, almost two hours prior to wake up starving and having to go to the bathroom. So, an hour later my leftover jaggerschitznel is almost gone thanks to the coffee stirrer doubled as a fork and coffee is calling my name…right after my shower.
My favorite coffee place has recently closed so I found myself walking around a "block" looking for another cafe. Let me tell you, four inch heels and cobblestone don't get along well. It was warm so I was simply carrying my blazer over my arm as well as my purse. I walked up to a place that had a sandwich board with kaffe for one euro. I start to walk in a realize it is a bar...I hesitate and the woman outside looked at me. I asked her where I could get a coffee take away. She pointed to a bakery a few stores away. I walk there and size up the menu to make ordering as simple as possible. My quick summation shows me there is only one size. So like a good flight attendant, I order a kaffe with cream. The lady looks at me and says, "I don't speak English". What?! So I say kaffe and point to the machine. Big or small she ask. I said big and accompanied it with the hand motions. She charges me and places the cup with lid and stir stick at the end of the bar. I walk down and locate the milk and sugar a few steps away. Since there is a guy over there already, I only take my coffee as to not crowd him. I get my cream and a touch of sugar in and look back for my lid and that bastard took it. I didn't dare ask for another one, so I just carefully walked away with my coffee shooting darts into the back of the guy in front of me with a spill proof cup. As I exit, the coffee spills on my thumb and I silently curse in the direction of the man with my lid. From the right I hear this catty voice, "we are not impressed with you". I turn to realize some American woman is talking to me. I looked right and left and sure as shit, that comment was directed at me. I was so shocked no response came out but I continued to walk and think about running back and spilling my coffee on her. All I could think is that her husband might have been looking at me. What a bitch.
The van ride was around 40 minutes and found me listening to my ipod and all of getting excited when some one passed around gum. I was jones for a fried turkey sandwich last week and it must have been fate to be in Frankfurt airport because that is where they live. I talked it up to the crew so majority of us stopped in and got one. Through customs for the usual German stamp, my stupid passport reflects Germany more than any other place in the world, and then through security.
The plane had just arrived so we stood around the gate waiting and chatting. Once on board we did our safety checks and I was feeling much more in tune with the job and clicked away.
The flight was uneventful for us in the front, we had some non revs and people who clearly had never been in first class. It was good because they were scared to ask for any extras. That was the only good part because they acted like immobilises the rest of the time. Asking for ice, Ma'am this is Europe, they don't use ice. Looking around for the drink cart when I asked what the gentleman wanted to drink while presenting his warm nuts, "Sir there is no drink cart in First Class we have to be imaginative and think of our drink all by our self". And of course they all ate the ice cream sundaes and cookies. Not seasoned first class at all.
Apparently in the back some lady claimed the woman in front of her knocked her unconscious by leaning her seat back and then continued to yell and threaten the crew. We almost had to divert the plane until a phyciastrist sat with her. Story is a passenger nearby came to offer the flight attendants a sedative to give the crazy lady. Apparently she calmed down and was laughing at a movie an hour or so later. Koo-koo...
I was on third crew rest and passed out, I don't think I have ever slept that hard on a break previously. The lunch service was a breeze as usual and in no time we were in our jump seat for wheels down. Customs sent us to agriculture just for the hell of wasting our time. On the bus, blocked in, and home in an hour and a half. Nap time is calling my name,
Commuting to the airport is pretty easy these days, in fact I now do it my uniform as to save time at the airport and I know longer care about people staring at me wondering why I am not on an airplane. It has been a wee bit hot this summer so I was a little sweaty by the time the C train stopped at Port Authority. I check to see if the bus was there and with its absence, I ran over and grabbed a salad from the café. I walk past the 20 people waiting for the bus to give the key my ticket and he tells me to bring my bag up so I can be first on the bus. We discuss the Dominican parade and then the theory my hairdresser shared with me about the Dominican girls being the best at blowouts. He agrees and gives me the card to a barbershop he owns.
On to the bus where everyone looks at me as I board; I have the ipod in and sit at my seat for the 40-minute drive. Inevitably tons of people get off at terminal A and then get back on the bus after their mistake. Happens everyday; it’s comical when I have extra time, not so much when I am in a hurry. Today, luckily I am not in a hurry; in fact security line was wide open and waiting for me. I got to the crew room and checked in for my flight, printed my pairing and sat down with my salad. I chit chatted with some friends and killed the 20 minutes prior to my arrival at the gate.
Gate 128 had a gathering of the blue uniforms and still showed FRA, so I walked up to the gate and did the usual introductions. I was assigned to work in the back so I kept my ears open for the want of someone upfront who wanted to switch. Sure as shit, I got my first class aisle. Since this is a flight with speakers it was Hilda and I as the aisle people. I got the drinks for everyone and passed out papers as I was supposed to do and then picked up a bit of her slack. It became an ironic theme of the day since she thinks she wrote the book on service.
This is a rare-for-me flight in which we receive crew rest on the way over, so there is an automatic urgency to get the service done, as everyone is excited about break. I worked as efficiently as possible but had those 10 people who wanted to enjoy every course, conversation and drink possible. Fine by me as I realize how much they paid for their ticket and I like being in the aisle. I was a bit out of practice with the service has I have been in sewage for the past couple of trips plus this was a wide body and there was two us up there. I let Hilda set up as clearly she had her way of doing things, and that’s alright with me, just give me a heads up instead of yelling at me for putting a used glass in the glass rack which you don’t want used until later. So the service went on and only one person came up to help us finish, she ended up yelling at him, the guy born in NY with an attitude that I love. He gave it right back to her much to my unrestrained amusement. As I am on the cheese cart, I am getting looks from the mid galley to hurry up as they stuff their face with leftover food. I give a dirty look back as they are doing nothing to help me finish and I actually slowed down my pace a bit. Guess who was on break last.
The switch of breaks left me in the first class galley alone and up comes the other reserve to raid the leftover wine. We ended up chatting and he is a riot. He has/is leading an envied (at times) life to me; completely bumming through. Has been a ski lift operator and then spent his summer surfing, been around Europe on a $1000, writes for a magazine and general lives the hell of life on the least amount of money possible. He has an infectious laugh as well and I get a kick out of his stories, thus we decided to bum around on the layover together.
The flight ends after a read-my-mind-you should be over there not here breakfast service. I was happy to be on board the crew bus, ipod in heading for Mainz. We stay in this adorable German town about 40 minutes away from the airport. I have been here twice and wandered about both times taking in the German culture that I adore. We got our rooms and at first I felt like going straight out but after a shower, the tiredness hit so I took a three-hour nap. Let me tell ya, it is damn difficult to force your body to wake up and get out of bed after such a short time. Luckily my motivation was more stories from my new friend and meeting the crew for dinner.
We walked and chatted and matched wit around this quaint town. When I walked up to the desk to get a map just in case, the receptionist asked us if we wanted to see something special? Being that the Germans have quite the reputation for freaking behind close doors, the question caught me off guard momentary but then she happily circled the dome and the old part of town. So we walked and chatted and then came upon a slide. I ran up the hill happily and climbed up the fort like contraption that would never go over in the states due to its liability risk and slid down. We wrapped up our walk in time to meet the crew for beers in the lobby bar. Eight of us showed up for beer and dinner, which is a pretty good, turn out for a crew. The beers were 2 for 1 and we sat and drank and came up with business plans for fishermen out at sea. Great group of people so it was a pleasure to be out and even better when our nice captain picked up the bill.
We all went to dinner and the camaraderie continued over another glass of beer and schnitzel. We topped off the evening with spaghetti icce, a helping of vanilla gelato pushed through a play dough like noodle maker with strawberry topping and white chocolate shavings.
I came back to the room and forced myself to stay awake for an hour more hoping to sleep until wake up. I chose to do this by watching the only movie I recognized on the telly, Showgirls…still sinks even in German.
I awoke at 0630, almost two hours prior to wake up starving and having to go to the bathroom. So, an hour later my leftover jaggerschitznel is almost gone thanks to the coffee stirrer doubled as a fork and coffee is calling my name…right after my shower.
My favorite coffee place has recently closed so I found myself walking around a "block" looking for another cafe. Let me tell you, four inch heels and cobblestone don't get along well. It was warm so I was simply carrying my blazer over my arm as well as my purse. I walked up to a place that had a sandwich board with kaffe for one euro. I start to walk in a realize it is a bar...I hesitate and the woman outside looked at me. I asked her where I could get a coffee take away. She pointed to a bakery a few stores away. I walk there and size up the menu to make ordering as simple as possible. My quick summation shows me there is only one size. So like a good flight attendant, I order a kaffe with cream. The lady looks at me and says, "I don't speak English". What?! So I say kaffe and point to the machine. Big or small she ask. I said big and accompanied it with the hand motions. She charges me and places the cup with lid and stir stick at the end of the bar. I walk down and locate the milk and sugar a few steps away. Since there is a guy over there already, I only take my coffee as to not crowd him. I get my cream and a touch of sugar in and look back for my lid and that bastard took it. I didn't dare ask for another one, so I just carefully walked away with my coffee shooting darts into the back of the guy in front of me with a spill proof cup. As I exit, the coffee spills on my thumb and I silently curse in the direction of the man with my lid. From the right I hear this catty voice, "we are not impressed with you". I turn to realize some American woman is talking to me. I looked right and left and sure as shit, that comment was directed at me. I was so shocked no response came out but I continued to walk and think about running back and spilling my coffee on her. All I could think is that her husband might have been looking at me. What a bitch.
The van ride was around 40 minutes and found me listening to my ipod and all of getting excited when some one passed around gum. I was jones for a fried turkey sandwich last week and it must have been fate to be in Frankfurt airport because that is where they live. I talked it up to the crew so majority of us stopped in and got one. Through customs for the usual German stamp, my stupid passport reflects Germany more than any other place in the world, and then through security.
The plane had just arrived so we stood around the gate waiting and chatting. Once on board we did our safety checks and I was feeling much more in tune with the job and clicked away.
The flight was uneventful for us in the front, we had some non revs and people who clearly had never been in first class. It was good because they were scared to ask for any extras. That was the only good part because they acted like immobilises the rest of the time. Asking for ice, Ma'am this is Europe, they don't use ice. Looking around for the drink cart when I asked what the gentleman wanted to drink while presenting his warm nuts, "Sir there is no drink cart in First Class we have to be imaginative and think of our drink all by our self". And of course they all ate the ice cream sundaes and cookies. Not seasoned first class at all.
Apparently in the back some lady claimed the woman in front of her knocked her unconscious by leaning her seat back and then continued to yell and threaten the crew. We almost had to divert the plane until a phyciastrist sat with her. Story is a passenger nearby came to offer the flight attendants a sedative to give the crazy lady. Apparently she calmed down and was laughing at a movie an hour or so later. Koo-koo...
I was on third crew rest and passed out, I don't think I have ever slept that hard on a break previously. The lunch service was a breeze as usual and in no time we were in our jump seat for wheels down. Customs sent us to agriculture just for the hell of wasting our time. On the bus, blocked in, and home in an hour and a half. Nap time is calling my name,
08 August 2009
6 to go...oslo
Carol was attempting to get on this flight but unfortunately it was sold out. I tend to block out flights, whether they be good or bad after clearing customs. This flight as with all my other Scandinavian flights was needy and dreadful with people wanting every beverage we had and then standing in our way to use the bathroom.
One of those flights that I was happy to realize the countdown is now in single digits.
One of those flights that I was happy to realize the countdown is now in single digits.
5 to go. twilight zone
I knew that the phone was going to ring, I was feeling a bit hungover from the numerous tequila shots the evening prior so whenever I woke up, I checked the phone and then checked the computer. Finally around 1100, I acknowledge at trip to Brussels. I feel back asleep until 1430.
I had been to Brussels prior and flown with one of the crew members prior as well. The rest was needing to be refreshed a bit. It is a rarity that I see a 777 and had no idea where I was working. I looked at the a cheat sheet and much to my delight, I was up front. My friend was the galley unknown to her so we swapped.
I walked on the plane and went to stow my luggage at the 3R door when the captain walked toward me from the back. It is odd to see a pilot make it out of the pit, let alone walking around the interior of the aircraft. He asked me who I was and I introduced myself three times before he got the name right. Then he asked me what the extraction of my name was from. WHAT?! Dude, I am not in the mood. It is made up, I reply. And then he wants to know why. I told him he would have to speak to Carol about that one. A speaker comes on and immediately starts bitching about things, so I wrote her off in a second.
So, I am doing my equipment checks and chatting with Marci when the lead gets on the PA and announces it's family time, it's family time. Translation: it's time for a crew briefing. These usually take 5 minutes max between the captain and the purser. Well, 25 minutes later after being told to wear our hair up during service and that our captain will back us, and other things which I can't recall, oh, leave a note at the front desk of the hotel in case you die during the layover. I am looking around at everyone and they are just sitting there absorbing all of this.
Well, we start boarding and the speaker from before is being a total bitch to me. I completely ignored her to which her reply was to throw the galley curtain around like a child. Gratefully it was just the two of us in our little bubble during the service and I must have laid down the attitude as no flight attendants other than our one friend and the purser came to my galley for anything. My galley is usually the hang out.
Without going into every minute of the flight there, layover and flight home. I will just run down the crew. I truly felt I was in the middle of the twilight zone.
Captain: flown for years, loves to yap and isn't afraid to say what's on his mind, even if it is completely inappropriate. Ended up taking photos of the girls chest who went out to dinner. (mine included)
FO: cool guy, I looked to him to get my jokes
IRO: Kiwi, who I am sure has laid more women with his accent than Wilt Chamberlain. He gave me his business card and told me he liked the way I moved in my heals.
Purser: he is a story at the end
A zone galley: all this guy does is Brussels and he was so excited to have some people join him and listen to his stories. He was looking to pick up the scraps after dinner, if you know what I mean
Back galley girl: cute, sweet quiet. wore pearls on the flight and the layover. I looked at the FO and told him, I bet she is a freak behind closed doors. Got a couple cocktails in her and out it came. holy moly!
a girl in the back: cougar was her nickname. she was at least 50, saggy tits but still wanted to show then to people. she spent the layover trying to get laid by anyone. she just put it out there. she ended up with a date tonight with the IRO.
a guy in the back: didn't say a word the whole 48 hours and had a come over from hell
So the purser: apparently he thought Marci and I were talk show host because the shit that came out of that man's mouth...
here's highlights
he is 47 married to a 70 year old, that he talks about constantly
he was a go-go boy but retired at the age of 41, he traveled with this part time gig, he demonstrated a bit of the routine when he would be in a cage.
he told us that for his stripping job he bought Calvin Klein underwear, the ones with the pouch and then his wife would sew up the back to make them tighter
he met his wife at the golden corral ( like a family style buffet)
he used to work at walmart prior to stripping
he didn't have anything when he moved in with his wife (then 47) we asked if she was his sugar mama.
he would answer any question we would ask and I am not sure if he knew that we were laughing at him or just wanted to talk.
and talk he did, constantly. I was smart enough not to get cornered, but poor Marci heard things she will never forget.
Many times we looked at each other with the most amazed looks and then would usually bust into a fit of laughter at the twilight zone we were in the middle of. do-dodododo-do
I had been to Brussels prior and flown with one of the crew members prior as well. The rest was needing to be refreshed a bit. It is a rarity that I see a 777 and had no idea where I was working. I looked at the a cheat sheet and much to my delight, I was up front. My friend was the galley unknown to her so we swapped.
I walked on the plane and went to stow my luggage at the 3R door when the captain walked toward me from the back. It is odd to see a pilot make it out of the pit, let alone walking around the interior of the aircraft. He asked me who I was and I introduced myself three times before he got the name right. Then he asked me what the extraction of my name was from. WHAT?! Dude, I am not in the mood. It is made up, I reply. And then he wants to know why. I told him he would have to speak to Carol about that one. A speaker comes on and immediately starts bitching about things, so I wrote her off in a second.
So, I am doing my equipment checks and chatting with Marci when the lead gets on the PA and announces it's family time, it's family time. Translation: it's time for a crew briefing. These usually take 5 minutes max between the captain and the purser. Well, 25 minutes later after being told to wear our hair up during service and that our captain will back us, and other things which I can't recall, oh, leave a note at the front desk of the hotel in case you die during the layover. I am looking around at everyone and they are just sitting there absorbing all of this.
Well, we start boarding and the speaker from before is being a total bitch to me. I completely ignored her to which her reply was to throw the galley curtain around like a child. Gratefully it was just the two of us in our little bubble during the service and I must have laid down the attitude as no flight attendants other than our one friend and the purser came to my galley for anything. My galley is usually the hang out.
Without going into every minute of the flight there, layover and flight home. I will just run down the crew. I truly felt I was in the middle of the twilight zone.
Captain: flown for years, loves to yap and isn't afraid to say what's on his mind, even if it is completely inappropriate. Ended up taking photos of the girls chest who went out to dinner. (mine included)
FO: cool guy, I looked to him to get my jokes
IRO: Kiwi, who I am sure has laid more women with his accent than Wilt Chamberlain. He gave me his business card and told me he liked the way I moved in my heals.
Purser: he is a story at the end
A zone galley: all this guy does is Brussels and he was so excited to have some people join him and listen to his stories. He was looking to pick up the scraps after dinner, if you know what I mean
Back galley girl: cute, sweet quiet. wore pearls on the flight and the layover. I looked at the FO and told him, I bet she is a freak behind closed doors. Got a couple cocktails in her and out it came. holy moly!
a girl in the back: cougar was her nickname. she was at least 50, saggy tits but still wanted to show then to people. she spent the layover trying to get laid by anyone. she just put it out there. she ended up with a date tonight with the IRO.
a guy in the back: didn't say a word the whole 48 hours and had a come over from hell
So the purser: apparently he thought Marci and I were talk show host because the shit that came out of that man's mouth...
here's highlights
he is 47 married to a 70 year old, that he talks about constantly
he was a go-go boy but retired at the age of 41, he traveled with this part time gig, he demonstrated a bit of the routine when he would be in a cage.
he told us that for his stripping job he bought Calvin Klein underwear, the ones with the pouch and then his wife would sew up the back to make them tighter
he met his wife at the golden corral ( like a family style buffet)
he used to work at walmart prior to stripping
he didn't have anything when he moved in with his wife (then 47) we asked if she was his sugar mama.
he would answer any question we would ask and I am not sure if he knew that we were laughing at him or just wanted to talk.
and talk he did, constantly. I was smart enough not to get cornered, but poor Marci heard things she will never forget.
Many times we looked at each other with the most amazed looks and then would usually bust into a fit of laughter at the twilight zone we were in the middle of. do-dodododo-do
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