29 June 2011

there and back

Within a day of being back home, I feel into routine of sleep and meeting Todd for dinner. It was nice, and it felt as though, I hadn’t been gone at all. The giant exception was the way he looked at me. Every look was one of gratitude and appreciation that I was home. I like these looks; they almost made the three weeks away worth it.

The only downside to being home this time of year was the allergies. They took me down for the last couple of days and kicked my ass. I was grateful to get on a plane and escape them. Grateful, also to know that this tour of duty was only a week and a half.

Commuting to work is my choice, when I choose to return to base and how is on my plate as well. The direct flight is not always open once summer hits so creative thinking as well as pulling a trigger in one direction is also required. The first bullet I loaded backfired and the flight filled up to an uncomfortable level. I decided to try it anyway versus being stuck in Portland. It wasn’t till I walked in to the airport, that I remembered an old friend, JetBlue. Sure they fly into Kennedy but that is still NYC… I’ll take it. So they generously listed me and off on the red eye I went. I made the decision.

My sleep was restless at best and I took all I could, as my assignment was airport alert at 1000. This is very unusual for us and almost impossible to get a trip off of. These are senior, senior mama trips I am covering and in order to get one, some one has to die on their way to work without contacting one of their friends to take their spot. I had a feeling today would be the day I would get one and be forced to stay up for the long flight and be quilted into touring about.

I touched down at JFK around 0620 and made my way to my home base the way I knew how. The shuttle service didn’t begin until 0800 and that was cutting it a bit too close for my comfort. Off to the air train I went and it took me two stops to realize I was on the wrong one. Now on the correct one, I made it to the subway. Mind you it is now the morning commute and I am coming all the way out from Queens to the city to catch my next form of transport. The 40 minutes on the train gave me plenty of time to contemplate bus or train. I went with train due to the morning rush hour.

I arrived at 0900 and stuck into the cleanest, quietest bathroom in the airport. I changed, washed my face, brushed the teeth and put on the war paint (as my dad would call it). I still looked like death.

Made my way into the crew room and positioned myself by the phones. I crashed out but did manage to hear the phone ring twice with my name not called after. Three hours later, I awoke and still in a daze realized my time to be used was coming to a close.

I don’t like going all the way there, especially with what I went through today and not going anywhere. It sucks cost wise, time wise, and roommate wise. I stuck around as long as I could because I wanted to hear the final union vote. I heard, we lost.

Made it back into the city still in a zombie phase and was chatting with my flat mate, when she told me I could pick up a trip due to the un-use of AA. I tried and it didn’t work due to my break day…I rang scheduling and they gave it to me!! Here’s hoping to hold onto my Paris! It has been so long that I have been there and my soul is always in need of Paris!!

25 June 2011

couldn’t have been a sock….

So with my days off rolled to now Thursday, I ran to the gate to pre-board a flight to Bogota’. Before I knew it the door was closed and I was on my way. I haven’t flown a domestic trip in ages so it seemed like the service was over in no time. The crew was great, all four of us and I was delighted to hear we had a 30 hour layover.
We arrived at the airport to men with machine guns and tight immigrations. I smiled and asked for a stamp in my passport. As we exited the airport, it felt as though we were on the red carpet, there were hundreds of people they’re awaiting in bound passengers.
Met the crew for a Colombian beer prior to going to bed. We arranged to meet in the morning and plan out our day. As dangerous as it has been implied that Colombia is, my dear friend Jim told me I would be just fine and to go and explore. The breakfast was a lovely buffet with all you can drink coffee (OMG good) and ready, stuff French toast! Hello!

The gals and I decided to go and get a cheap mani and pedi and then the speaker offered to take us out. We grabbed a cab to the Montessori located 15 miles or so out of town and straight up a mountain. We took a tram up for a breathtaking view of Bogota’. Photos were taken; magnets and a flag were bought as well as postcards.
A run to the store to stock up on coffee lead into a comfortable evening. It is then I laid the groundwork for how I would get home. Our flight was set to land at 1538. The Portland flight was tight and then oversold. I took a look and there was flight to SEA at 1700. I have a motto, just start heading in the direction of where I need to be. Worse case, I could have driven home. I took a look at the weather in NYC, thunderstorms, no bueno.
We got to the airport and rushed people on and to their seats. My time clock had started ticking; I needed everything to work out. We did the safety demo and checks and while we were in the back waiting for the plane to move, a voice came over the PA. I didn’t understand a word but people started jumping up and grabbing their bags. Apparently there was a weight restrictions so all the non-revs had to get off. I looked painfully at my watch. 45 minutes we sat there and then they all came back on. Panic was starting in. I chatted with the pilots and told them about my flight, they were able to make the time up in the air.
Things were going well, the passengers were a bit dumb but whatever, and then the plane began a holding pattern. There was weather in NYC and we were circling above DC. FUCK! And to make matters worse is in his announcement of heartbreak he said we don’t have enough fuel to do this and may have to divert.
Luckily we got out of it and arrived 20 minutes late. There is a rule that flight attendants must remain on board the aircraft until all passengers have disembarked. In this case we had 9, yes 9 wheelchairs and 5 unaccompanied minors. We opened the door at 1624; I hid in the galley and checked my phone hoping the SEA flight was delayed. It was, by 1 minute…. And they had already issued me a seat in the exit row. Boarding had already begun. I had a sinking feeling almost one of defeat. My crew was awesome and ushered off all the wheelchair waiting people onto the jet bridge so I could go. I ran through the customs and immigration hall knowing I had just landed from a red flag country and could get asked to step aside at any moment.
Made it through without a body cavity search and run up to security. Through my things, computer, jacket and shoes up and gathered them up as quickly as possible. With my four inch heals, full uniform and 60 pounds of luggage in tow, I began to all out run to the gate. It was gate 80 almost at the end of the concourse. I was so out of breath by the time I made it there, I could only show my badge when she asked for my name.
My exit row seat had been given away in my absence but suddenly replaced with a first class seat. I walked down the jet bridge and took my place in the cue of 10 or so people. The agent, god bless her in all ways, came and ushered me in front of everyone. This made me feel uncomfortable because I was receiving special treatment. I embarrassingly walked behind her to the gripping of the people waiting to board; the ground guy stopped me and told me I had to check my bag. I told him that I had a close connection in SEA and before he could say anything the agent made the proclamation that I was in first class. I walked in and looked desperately for a space. I am in frantic mode still and sweat is dripping off of me. I find a small space and just want to get the bag up and sit down getting out of everyone way.
First class is fully boarded, the plane is as well, and the flight attendants don’t seem to be in the great of a mood. I heave my bag up and it gets caught on something. I am trying to fix it and can’t think clearly enough. Meanwhile 2A is yelling at me about her stripped bag. I go to my seat without it fully in and wait for everyone to be boarded. Of course I am at the window so I keep climbing over this nice Chinese man. After the boarding was complete, I got back up to give it another go. By this time some other passenger and the agent are trying to help me and all that is coming out of my mouth is how embarrassed I am. My bag is too fat as well as caught so I reach in to the front pocket and remove my Duane reed sack of laundry. Finally the bag goes in and I can sit down. Sweat begins to drench my body once it is settled. I apologize to my neighbor who finds kind humor in the whole situation and tells me to relax.
I shoot off a text to the BF that I have made it on board and am heading west. As I am taking a drink of water, I see 2A and 2B give the grumpiest flight attendant something. Something I recognize. I watch her walk to the galley and then I read her lips, “Somebody’s fucking panties!” We all know whom they belong to. She marches back to the seat and asked what the hell. I hear, “they are the flight attendants” as four different people start pointing to my seat.
I have to own up to this, and as she begins to approach me, I just tell her. Yep, those are mine; this is my life in a nutshell. She begins to bust out laughing and ask me if I want them back. No, please throw my Primark bikini work panties away. And I promised not to make any more trouble on this flight.
Even though there was weather in NYC they let our plane go, the flight time was shorter than usual as well so I was feeling pretty good about my connection.
As the service began the other flight attendants came up to take my order. She assured me my name won’t be told but the story sure would be. At this point it just became a good story. We chatted more about my day when I finally got the nerve to walk past the panty givers and go to the bathroom an hour later.
Close to landing, I went in a brushed my teeth and freshened my makeup. When I exited they asked me if I could take a jump seat for landing as one of the crew as sick. Absolutely! So I put on my jacket and tucked in my shirt and then started picking up the first class cabin. A military guy was then moved to my seat and the sick flight attendant to 1B. I am sure the first class cabin felt like they were playing a game of Clue.
The good news was that I was one of the first people off the plane and after my grace from prior, I sprinted up the jet way. We arrived at gate B3, I begin to look for my connection. It is 2010 and I haven’t checked in for it, only listed. I go to the board…N12! Where the hell is that? I started sprinting once again through yet another airport. Through the food court, my eyes scanning signs as fast as possible. I spotted an Alaska employee, “where’s N terminal?” I asked while still in full stride. I was told I had to go downstairs and take a train. My response, are you fucking kidding me?
So off I went and all the while trying to check myself in via my mobile. I arrive breathlessly at the gate to see another FA waiting her turn for a ride home. I ran up to the gate and checked in. I was then informed that there were no more seats left, they were waiting for passengers. I sighed and started thinking of a back up plan. We stood there patiently as they paged John Marsh over and over again. Finally, they called it and handed both of us tickets home.
Walking through the PDX terminal relieved that I made it there through every possible obstacle given to me gave me the extra strength to run and jump into the waiting arms of Todd. At that second, I would have done it all again.

20 June 2011

AA to the third

The third time I have sat airport alert this month. What I hate most is not having a clue where I am going. Granted, I usually get some good trips off “riding the couch” but today, I just want to know when I will be finished. I was mentally ready to go home yesterday. I am good for one day before my six, glorious days off. When I didn’t get my personal drop for today after sitting at the airport for 5 hours after my flight, I was crushed. When I looked at my schedule at 9pm and there was no assignment, that old feeling of anxiety came rushing over me. I woke up several times to check my phone (which turned off) in the middle of the night and then the computer. Finally I woke up at 1030 and found out I was to be at the airport at 315. After a run, shower and grabbing less expensive lunch at the deli, I made my way here.
My past two times of this assignment I was sent to Europe, which is always nice for a gal who spend so much time in the UK. The first was Oslo and I was grateful to be in the back. Yes you read that correctly. The f/c galley lady drove me nuts from the get go with her running mouth. The peeps in the back galley were cool and hard workers, which was good because our purser was a lazy idiot. The flight over wasn’t too bad and a nap was certainly in order and cheap once we reached Oslo.
Since the sun is up 20 hours of the day, it was a perfect city to take a long rest and still have daylight to go walk around. I brought an apple with me and it was my dinner. Oslo is expensive!! We did get free breakfast from the hotel so your truly was down there at the crack of dawn loading up!
The flight home ….NIGHTMARE! I can’t believe I am related to this people. They drank us out of house and home. There was barely enough food for the crew. The purser screwed us out of a long nap and proved her stupidity while we were trying to seat a family together. This was a Chinese Family holding Norwegian passports; she says “habla espanol” to the eye roll of me and the quizzical looks of the passengers. What a fucking idiot!
I needed a day off after that hot mess. Philly took my mind off the job for the day.
My next assignment was Friday with thunderstorms. Always a good time to be here because senior mamas miss their commute and good trips come in. I arrived extra early just because I had nothing else to do. I sat here for a bit and worked then reported for duty 30 minutes before I needed to. Two seconds later the phone rang and I was off to Frankfurt.
I was the person they needed to make it a less hellious flight. Every single crewmember came up to me with thanks. Turns out that I was flying with a big wig, who made one phone call for an extra person. The flight was fantastic; I work my favorite aisle and had a great galley and entire crew.
Our layover is in a small German town 30 miles outside of Frankfurt. I love this layover, I adore Germany. I went straight out after arriving to walk around the city. Came back for a quick nap and then met the crew for dinner. Jagerschnitzel!! One of my favorite things.
So once more I sit, waiting for not only my destination but also the end time, the time before I can get on a plane and make it back home for a week. I am so homesick.

airport arrest

I sit here once more on airport alert waiting for the phone......

RING....off to Frankfurt

17 June 2011

0617

five years ago today, I woke up in Texas and began training college. It seems like ten lifetimes ago as well as just yesterday.

16 June 2011

brotherly love

On my return to NYC, I told myself that I needed to do those things I wanted to do but never got around to either due to laziness or complaincy. The idea that I have three roommates is forcing me out of the house more. I was dinking around on the internet and was thrilled to learn that I could journey to Philly for $11 each way on this wonderful new discovery, the Bolt Bus. This blog is coming from here currently as I make my way back to the big apple.

I was up with the nine to fiver's this morning as I made my way down to Penn Station. Post and ice coffee in hand I boarded the bus and in two hours I had passed through three states and was dropped off in downtown Philadelphia. I had been here once for a layover and drug the crew out for a cheesesteak at 11pm because we were in the ghetto and I didn't want to go alone. Sidenote: best damn cheesesteak I have ever had.

I have this goal of seeing all the baseball stadiums in America and have been in the rut of my beloved Yankees. This was my opportunity to see another so I quickly mastered the subway and made my way out to the ball park. I was lucky enough to snag a cheap ticket and made my way in. Much to my surprise Cliff Lee was pitching. I grabbed a philly cheessesteak and made it to my seat. Perfect day for a game. After three seat changes because I was on the wrong tier and then the wrong section, I settled in and watched this team play. They are a hell of a good team but man, they are just pricks and their fans are even worse. Whatever, I was there for the love of baseball and no, I didn't dare don my Yankees cap.

After the game I made my way back to the city for some exploring. First independence hall followed by the old liberty bell. I chatted up the guard so he could take my photo. The great thing about doing that? He made people move so he could do it!

A walk back through the ick side of the city, a place I would equate to the shady area I lived in Brooklyn. I found the Hard Rock for Minda's shot glass and then made my way to marvel at City Hall. The architecture was amazing. Next I made my way to the LOVE statue and took photos. I must admit that I was silly to think that this only existed in NYC on 6th avenue. I was happy to be proven incorrect.

The next thing on my list was the Rocky stairs, also known as the Museum. I walked down Ben Franklin Parkway doing mental check marks of the flags of my visits. I walked and walked....finally I got to the damn place. I jogged up the stairs and turned to admire the view. While watching people using the venue for vagarious workouts, I remembered that I bought a cupcake earlier and enjoyed it.

found the Rocky statue and then made my way back to 30th Street Station for potty and a magnet. I was going to catch an earlier bus back to the city. And what do you know? There was one about to leave who welcomed me on! Love when timing works out! Karma for the times that I just miss things.

This girl is brotherly loved out and awaiting a nice sleep as well as a" where in the world" assignment tomorrow.

Perfect day trip!

13 June 2011

pillow tease

Because of my lack of time prior to leaving and my badge mishap, I was forced to BB&B to purchase a pillow and some toiletries. I am inherently cheap. This is a learning from my father, he would talk about heating the outside, lights being on unnecessarily, money doesn't grow on trees...
So I ended up purchasing the least expensive things I could find. Travel size of bath wash and face wash and a travel pillow. I refused to pay $10 for a pillow when I had already picked one up at Target for $4. A miscommunication between the BF and I resulted in no box being shipped; which equaled me on a travel pillow for the past week. It is a nice addition to my air mattress that I have to climb up into.
My roommate has been shopping on Target.com and over the past three days have received bedding via mail and much to my dismay, pillow. Two days in a row, the buzzer has woke me to find, not my wanted box, but pillows for L.
The box came today, with no note (it is the little things that thrill me) just in time for my airport alert assignment.

So here I am on my first gamble trip, hoping for something fantastic!

12 June 2011

no getting laid-layover

The things of love and hate also boarder in my heart with those of luck and no luck. I have been told my many a palm reader, tarrot card reader, etc. that I am extremely lucky. In fact, I went as far as boasting about this luck on my body in the form of a tattoo. I admit, I fall ass backwards into a lot of good shit, and this is what I need to remember when I strike out.

It began with playful text between the BF and I on Wednesday. One idea lead to another and we planned to have him fly out for the weekend and go on a trip with me. I told him that ever star had to line up for this to happen...flights had to be open, I had to work a trip that had seats, one that would let him go to the hotel with us...yadda, yadda, yadda. The stars did line up and hopes jumped right in the que as well. He was booked on the red eye Thursday and would come spend the day with me Friday; he even willing to head to the Chinese Consult with me. Then we would go to Belfast together, since the flight was open up front, I knew the pursor, the city...all was perfect.

Well, you know those thunderstorms I like so much? Well they don't play a good role in stand by travel. Right as the BF was about to leave for the airport, I checked his flight status one more time out of paranoia and there it was...oversold flights. Piss!

I spent the day in NY running my errands thinking how much more fun it would be to stand in the hot sun wanting in line for my passport or picking up my watch from repair, if I had a partner.

The flight to Belfast was booked and we ended up going without a crew member putting me in my beloved galley and out of the aisle. The aisle that much to my distain showed proudly it's one open seat in first class.

09 June 2011

love/hate relationship

My "crash pad" is with friends in the city, they live on the UWS, a neighborhood I had not previously lived in but had experience working and wandering about. It is beautiful, a block from Central Park, right near shops and restaurants. Perfect location.
I have started to run again, with extra time on my hands, a beautiful park and sunshine there is no excuse not to. Also, I am keen on staying out of the way at our place as there is not too much alone time for the permanent flatmate. Last night and days prior I found myself wandering around the neighborhood after errands and cooling down after my walk. Manhattan is a seductress. I dream about what it would be like to live in a doorman building on CPW or an old brownstown with my own steps. I watch locals bustle about with groceries or going to the gym or having dinner outside, and I envy them. I long to be that person who came here when I was in my early twenties an found myself settled as legitimate New Yorker.
I love NYC in the summer; the heat, the thunderstorms, the park, the humidity....all of it. Today I sat on the edge of the Hudson River and watched the skies dance with lighting and listened to the thunder roll in.

This morning I had to wake after only five hours of rest to do day things. A good international flight attendant stays up late and sleeps in. I stayed up until 0200 and then the nasty alarm went off at 0700. I was not happy. The reason for my early wake up was to go the Chinese Consulate and get my visa. We are required to have it in case some miracle day happens and we (junior crew) get to go. If we don't have it and get called for that elusive flight then we are in trouble...I don't like being in trouble or even the thought of it for that matter.

I attempted to do this yesterday as the rumor mill said they are now taking two days to process instead of one but god love NYC. I set off to find a fedex office to print something and to get my passport photos taken. Should be simple right? No. After my two hours of walking in 99 degree weather, all I managed to find was a Rite Aid where I had to demand people pay attention to me and do their job. The result was a sweaty passport photo and $9 out of my pocket.

Last evening I found out the nearest place to print off my form and the consulate hours. I prepared...so I thought. I got up and to the Fedex office, printed and filled out the form and sleepily drug myself onto the subway. I had five more long blocks to walk after that. I got there 30 minutes before they were opened to find myself at least the 100th person in line. We are ushered in through security and set in ques. There is a screaming baby, I don't have any water (not allowed) and I stood in line for 40 minutes before my turn to the window. Around minute 33 I wondered where my supervisor was supposed to sign my application. I looked over it again and got a sinking feeling that I forgot something. Sure as shit, Mrs. Yang pointed it out. I made up some story that I didn't need it since I was renewing my visa, she didn't buy it. Fuck!!

Defeated I walked four long blocks for water and a breakfast roll ($3, love food carts). I sat down ready to give up and then was determined to get this over with. I googled and found a Staples 10 blocks away. I got there and the damn printer needed a cartridge. My eyes started to swell up with defeat. Why is it so damn hard to print something? Why wasn't I with it in the first place? I pulled it together to ask where another place was. Three blocks this time... I was loosing precious time with the embassy. I got there, printed it out and hailed a cab. I couldn't walk the mile. That of course took 10 minutes and $10. I ran back through security and cut off everyone to hand the stupid letter to Mrs. Yang. 'You come back tomorrow 9 am'. Great, just what I want to do.

I remember feeling so angry that I couldn't get the simplest thing accomplished and it cost me $20 and three hours just to hand over my passport. I loathe this city for that. And yes I get the saying, if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. It is because of shit like this morning.

The easy stuff, the walk in the beautiful neighborhood, the culture, the feeling of being alive...all that takes care of the love part. The part that keeps people around trying and someday marrying or breaking up with New York City.

07 June 2011

bookended

The bookend trip of my leave of absence played out nearly the same. Although I was scheduled to be the galley, the aisle girl asked me if wanted to trade. Any other time I would have said no, but I was ok just easing back into the flow of things. It was like riding a bike and the longer I was I on the more comfortable I got. I was standing around like a ding-dong when I came time for the all-call.

The lady I am working with in the front is so East Coast/Jersey/PA, it is funny; I have been removed from the environment for so long I forget. She is a non-stop gossiper and talker. She was all about filling me in on the “dirt” of the airline and who go fired and demoted and whom I shouldn’t fly with… like I have a choice. Then she found about dog walking, and talked intermittently between gossip and her neighbors’ doings about dogs. How dogs are drawn to her, how she is the neighborhood dog whisper, about each and every neighborhood dog and their behavior with her and their owner, their kind, there fencing situation….I am sorry is the sentence a run-on? Well so was she. I am sure she will have thought about more to talk about while we are on our layover.

So the place is Manchester and the only thing that has changed that I have noticed is a new fast food place across the street from the hotel and the absence of my favorite tea.

My body had not a clue what was going on last night and the flight was exceptionally long. Even though our service took forever, I mean this people took 20 minutes to eat their appetizers, I was totally bummed to see we had three more hours left. I pulled out a book and the galley was cold enough to stay away. The most reading I was able to get done was when yapper went into the pit for 30 minutes. Otherwise she would just start talking whenever a thought entered her head. I did have the passing thought of, dear god what did I sign my self up for?

The bus ride was long and I was able to snooze off for a bit before reaching a glorious bed. I have been sleeping on an air mattress in a loft for the weekend and a plane seat and lounge chair the evening prior. A bed felt amazing and seven hours of sleep followed.

Toured about the city attempting to find Man U tees for my husbands but had no luck. I wasn’t even in the mood to shop. I got a bit cocky walking home as I previously new the city by heart. Well mama got a bit off track…not too much as when I stopped into another hotel for directions; I was only five blocks from mine.

It is odd to be back, I can’t really describe it at the moment…

06 June 2011

here i sit

So after my weekend in the city, the celebration of my friend's birthday followed by sleeping for 12 hours, I am at the airport and ready to go.
The instructions were to wait until Monday, ring in to the person who dropped the ball on my badge in the first place and then make my way in. I arrived at the airport at noon. I wanted that badge in my hand before I called scheduling and told them I was a go. By the time I sat down, new badge in hand, I had a trip. When we were guessing where I would be send, everyone had their thoughts, some I didn't like, others I loved. I had a grimacing thought that I would bookend my leave of absence with the same trip. This gut, it serves me well...off to Manchester I go.
Since I was so paranoid about my badge, I am now here six hours early. It is freezing and I attempted to take a small nap as body doesn't have a clue what is going on and I am sure will wonder what the hell it is doing tonight. I cherish the 20 minutes I did get as this is not the most quiet place in the world. I woke up to some asshole making the grossest noise with his snot. I packed up and moved immediately.
I am working the front galley, a position that I love! The memory is slowly coming back to me about which things go in which ovens and I plan to be on that plane as soon as they let me to get it set up.
I will say this, I am happy to be going to a familiar destination as I can sleep in and wander about. If it was a new place and I had to be a self guided tourist, I am not sure I could muster up the energy.
So with my blonde badge in hand accompaning my old brunette badge, this new brunette sets back into the friendly skies.

05 June 2011

the return

I always have this saying….it mostly used when other people are bitching and complaining, “you are always supposed to be exactly where you are”. I rarely remember this when I am in the middle of a freak out because something didn’t go as planned. I plan a lot of things in my mind, play them out in every act and wrap them up nicely right in time or a bit to spare, as I have been raised. This is the girl side of me, we all have it, it is what drives men nuts because we have cast them in our mental plays but yet didn’t hand them a script.

My first journey back into the flight attendant world started with the prep work. I had three weeks to prepare… first off was to finish Project: Pooches in the Pearl. Done, but not as well as I would have liked. Project: Recess was a bit more complicated as it involved the creation of calendars, color-coding, tally spread sheets, revisions of the manual, being a safety net. In my play this was all complete prior to Memorial Day weekend so I could spend the whole next week devoted to Project: Me. Although Project Me was based on getting ready to return the flying world, packing changing my sleep patterns, planning ahead, it also include luxuries such as yoga daily, massages, hair appointments and rest. Dinner with the BF was on the agenda too. I pictured us enjoying a last dinner outside in the warm spring Portland air at one of my favorite Italian restaurants, perhaps a glass of wine to aid sleep on my journey out to work. From the airport, I would simply sleep and then travel on to my chosen destination from there. Perfect right?

Project: Recess went on well into Thursday with a lot more questions, which I didn’t mind, extra walks…which I did, extra overnight which had me walking three small pups all day Friday. Yoga sadly went by the wayside as time sped by. I did manage to get my hair done as no blonde would survive un-harrassed as a tourist in NYC and I did have a massage. It was not the kind of relaxing massage I had scripted, instead this man was looking for secret information…I didn’t know what he wanted but I was willing to tell him anything and everything. Old lady here, hurt her back during kickboxing and has been nursing it since then.

My romantic Friday evening dinner was that of a piece of cheese and lemon grass soda from Whole Foods as we jetted to the airport. I snapped at poor Todd under stress and walked up to the gate just as they were boarding.

I arrived at my home base around 0530 and went right up to the duty desk to ask for my new badge..they looked and looked. (Mine had expired during the leave.) Nothing. Into my supervisors office I go to be informed that if we can’t locate then I have to be removed from my trip. The badging office isn’t open on Saturday and there is a hold that needs to be lifted which was “ball dropped on our end”. I took a nap until noon and returned to her office to see if there was some miracle that would allow me to work. Nope. I had to drag my stuff into the city and wait until Monday to have the paper work done.

I am disappointed because first off, I came here to work, secondly I am staying at an apartment where I need to be out of sight out of mind to have this work, thirdly now I am just sitting around nyc totally broke for the weekend. The only good thing to come of this: my friend Carries birthday party is tonight…. I get to attend.