coffee-tea-or me

homesick

2011-08-01T15:54:00.000-04:00

Here I sit half way around the world, and it hits me like a ton of bricks...I am homesick.

I haven't been home since the 11th of July and even though I got to see Todd in McCall, it was such a journey there and back a vacation wouldn't be deemed the title. My next time off is the 19th and I am so ready mentally to be home. To get appointments made, sleep in my new bed, see my mom, and just be.

My feelings are hurt by someone I don't even know. We made a plan to meet up tonight and go out in Tel Aviv. A friend of mine is working the flight and is very sweet. Even though I had only an hour sleep I was keen on meeting up and having fun. We don't fly out until tomorrow night so one night of caution to the wind I could live with. I made it to his room for a cocktail and then to head out...it became a two hour, drag the feet, drama ordeal. I finally told them I was going to get something to eat to escape the Queen who was rude to me off and on for no reason and the oogling pilot whom I have already had a run in previously.

I came back to my room relieved not to be out with them but sad at the same time. I walked away from drama and now I am here alone.

Not sure if it is the lack of sleep or the current lack of stability but I feel blah. And the thing is, I shouldn't...it was a great trip over. Yes, you read correctly... I picked up and held onto a TLV. Blondie asked if I not only wanted to trade her for first class aisle but also if I wanted her 2nd break. DONE! It made the trip so nice and easy.

Here's hoping for a day at the beach tomorrow after a work out, some nice photos, a little grocery shopping and a much better feeling about being so far away.

week funk

2011-07-25T12:20:00.000-04:00

A week ago I was awake early in my Paris hotel on the search for coffee and a pan au chocolate. Today I sit in the passenger seat of a Mini Cooper with the windows down and the Idaho wind whipping through my hair.

The past week hasn’t been my best ever; I have been in a funk. I could blame it on pms but I don’t think it last this long, nor am I usually affected by it. The six-day trip took it out of me and for the next few days all I did was sleep. I am talking sleeping in until three and four in the afternoon. I spent my only day off sleeping and then walking around downtown NYC looking for sheets. The day I got up at 4, it was by the sound of the alarm I set in order to pick up a trip.
I chose based on position and I needed the front galley. I wasn’t in any mood for aisles, neither back nor front. I choose Edinburgh because I love the city and hadn’t been in forever. I am sure it was partially my mood but I wasn’t too keen on any of the crew including the fat, nerdy pilots. My aisle girl…man she was a bitch and a half. Absolutely no communication and I finally told her I wasn’t good at reading minds. That pretty much sealed the deal on us talking to each other for the remainder of the trip.

I slept a bunch in EDI and came home to sweltering heat. My roommate and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to go and take a nap in Central Park and sweat off our plane bloat. I also got some color out of the deal. I went to be that evening not knowing my schedule for the next day and figuring they would roll my day off and send me international.

Like a good international flight attendant I stayed up until 0400 engrossed in a book. I woke up paranoid as I always do on call days to check my schedule at 0900. Mother F’ers put me on the 2 day IAH. This affected not only my whole months next schedule and my weekend but also the plans to meet up in McCall.
I drug myself up and out to run my errands in 102-degree weather before heading off to the airport rather early. The trip was fine, great crew was able to work out and relax a bit. The only down side was the lack of hours, the previous schedule shift and the fact the damn plane didn’t land until 1800.

While commuting to the West Coast isn’t too bad, it takes a bunch of planning and the ability to leave prior to 1800. Planning this 4-leg journey to meet the BF at the parents’ house in the middle of beautiful BFE was not fun to plan. I booked a flight to ORD leaving at 1800 hoping a miracle would be on my side. They had a connection to BOI that night so if all worked out….

Well, we’ve met right? The damn plane lands late and I miss my ORD flight. There is another at 1830 but I don’t know if it is full and Lauren did a quick search and found a DEN flight that had seats. I have no idea what she was looking at because my information said it was overbooked…by a lot. Never the less, I packed my 50lbs worth of crap over the A terminal by bus and then another bus. I head to the gate hopeful and within 10 minutes I am on in my own exit row. I didn’t have time to find out what flights left to BOI after my arrival, I knew there were lots of carriers so this was my best hub to end up at. Well, I land at 2115 and not only is there no flights leaving, the whole damn airport is shut down. The guy I chatted with told me they were even open a little late this evening due to bad weather. WTF? I wandered around for an hour or so trying to decide if I was going to stay the 11 hours in between flights in the terminal or if I would pony up the cash for a hotel. The Crown Plaza had a price I could live with (Todd is paying half since he had half custody of my sanity) and went for a shower and 6 hours of sleep.
Southwest was kind enough to give me a ride to old spud country….sorry for interruption just got pulled behind a post office to have sex; hopefully that isn’t a federal crime.

Anyway we are about 9 miles out from beautiful McCall and all seems better now that we have chatted and the sex helps as well. Looking forward to relaxing by the lake and having some home cooked meals and gin and tonics on the deck.

six long days

2011-07-16T07:34:00.000-04:00

My plans to go to Chicago fell through so I had a choice, sit at home and babysit the kid or try and go back to work. I choose the later. On Tuesday I boarded the early flight back to base with my seat assignment in hand, I rang scheduling to pick up a trip. They have special days now that you can pick up on your day off if they need extra help. Luckily, this was one of those days. I had my choice of good trips, Stockholm, Geneva, etc except they checked in pretty early. My flight was scheduled to arrive at 1540 and god forbid something happened and I didn’t make it in time, I would then be in trouble. This gut instinct made me pick up a trip with a 2005 check-in. This trip was a six-day that meant I didn’t have to make it back to the NYC apartment for another week. The instinct I felt was correct as we had a mechanical delay in PDX.

The trip I picked up was new to our schedules. Since the merger is in its beginning stages some genius decided to start giving some of our trip to the other carrier (good trips mind you) and giving us one in return. So the trip goes like this: home base to Paris (28 hours) – Paris to Washington DC (24 hours) – DC to Paris (24 hours) – Paris to home.

Sounds like a great trip right? Depends on the crew.

The plane in question is a 757, which means there are 3 pilots and 6 flight attendants.

Here is a run down:

A nice guy, dry humor who looks like the guy from USA “Up all night” (the name is escaping me)

French girl, screams French in every way but not as in your face about it. She is nice, she is married to a doctor, drives a Lexus…we know all about her life…

Other speaker is a West African who used to play professional soccer and talks to me a lot about the power of a woman. He is my favorite on the trip.

The lady I have to work with directly: I knew it was going to be interesting when she told all of us that she fell down recently and hit her head. And that is a summary of how she acts. We have gotten into a couple tiffs about how to bang out the service and she thinks I am a sounding board for random thoughts. Even when I am reading the paper or my book…or typing this.

The purser…strange…He is who I have to sit in the jump seat with. He is Australian; his name is John yet he goes by some French word for fortune. He is never consistent on how he wants the service done, so we are guessing each time. Him and the back galley seem very displeased with each other and of course I am in the middle of it. He is the butt of everyone’s jokes and he just doesn’t seem to get it…or anything for that matter.

As far as the trip is concerned, it has been a great one. Our leg found me in a great mood, even though I was working in the back. We landed in Paris and made our way to a new hotel in the financial district. It was nice to see another side of the city, a non-touristy side. I went to the supermarket and purchased salads, yogurt and peppers for my meals. The extra four hours made the layover feel like forever but it was Bastille Day so extra time there was wonderful.
The next flight was into DC and let me tell you, the change in passengers was noticeable from the start. They are nasty…they have an expectation of bad service so they have their guard up. I want to scream at them that we like our job and we will be nice if you give us a chance. After the hellacious boarding I managed to smooze most the people, the back people were much better than the front. Same chaos and guessing game with the crew.

My layover in our nations capital was very nice indeed. Our hotel is right in Georgetown and if you told me I had to move there tomorrow, I would be packed and ready to go. Frenchy along with the pilots and I went out to a nice dinner after we arrived and the captain graciously purchased our meals. If I had known that I would have ordered more than a salad! : ) A nice rest followed. The next day I slept in, worked out, had lunch in DuPont Circle, went to Capital Building, had a delicious cupcake and then a nap.

This was harder flight to wrap your head around since it was day 3 going on 4 and we were headed back over the pond at a very late hour. So far, four hours into this flight and I am doing ok tired-wise. I did have to yell at a bunch of people at boarding about the exit row and how they can’t sit there if they didn’t pay for it. Yadda, yadda. I will say this… I miss our passengers.

Tomorrow in Paris we are back to the hotel in the middle of everything. There are sales going on in Paris for the month of July…they have such great things there, I might be tempted to go have a look see. A dress in lieu of eating next week? Very tempting! : ) as not eating will aid in the fabulousness of the dress!
Hoping for a balanced layover of sleep, good food, great sales/finds, weather, and getting some work done. That’s not too much to ask is it?

sheets

2011-07-12T18:33:00.000-04:00

About a week a go, I received a text from the BF indicating he had pulled the trigger and purchased a new bed for us. It had been something we had been talking about for a while now. The first thought and want was European twin beds. These are impossible to find in the US. We then moved to the idea of a temper-pedic as I started having back problems with the queen that was our current cocoon.

I was both shocked and proud of his incentive and action. It took a conversation to realize that he took the job very seriously and also ordered a bed frame and the sheets.

Let me pause for a moment and let you know what I started dating... A man who wore almost all Eddie Bauer. Not because he particularly liked the style or cared but because it was long enough for his frame.
I have done a lot of work in the education of style and choices of clothes that look great and fashionable.

He is also a boy. A boy who could have been sold the Brooklyn Bridge if it was the store. I am inheritantly cheap but stylish at the same time. If it were I wheeling and dealing at the showroom, I would have argued that they needed to give me everything for free in addition to the mattress.

I was not present at this exchange; therefore I had to intervene late. I asked what the bed frame looked like and then I asked the question about the color of sheets... champagne. Uhm, no. I don't like old person sheets. I love sheets in bright, fun colors or great patterns. I take pride in my bed and anyone close will tell you, it takes months prior to me making a change.

When I arrived home we decided to wait for the delivery of the mattress and then we could take back the sheets if I hated them. I did. So we head to the store and Todd takes the reigns explaining that he jumped the gun and I wasn't pleased with the color. Fair enough, I will look like the bitch, here. I am the one who has to sleep on these things for the next five years.

The sales woman asked why I didn't like them. I replied, they look like a 60 year old picked them. Her look back at me indicated these were the same sheets she had on her bed. She asked if I would like to see any more colors, which I said yes. The real answer was no as we were not going to spend a fortune for sheets. As we made our way over to the small, bland selection, she asked me if any of them suited a 40 year old. She about got slapped.

Since we were close, we ran over to a couple shops and found some sheets but not ones I loved. We proceeded back downtown for lunch where I popped into Pottery Barn and William Sonoma. Nothing. Back to run a couple more errands and we stopped at West Elm. They had sheets we loved (as noted earlier online). They didn't carry Cal Kings in the store.

We then went back home and grabbed the car to go to Z Gallerie and then Crate and Barrel. Last resort was BB&B for which we had just received a coupon. The selection was disappointing. There were only a few colors to select from. I knew I was pushing my limit about three stores ago. I almost asked if we could go back to Ross but I knew that it would mean our break up. I conceded and bought dark gray sheets.

I treated the very patient birthday boy to a beer as a thank you.

Our new bed now sits on the ground with gray sheets awaiting a woman's touch.

days of domestic

2011-07-08T17:22:00.002-04:00

I set myself up with blocks of 3 or 6 days so I can somewhat know what will happen scheduling wise. On my return to work this month, I was good for nine days (which is allowed at the months beginning). Ideally I would work three trips and catch the flight home on Thursday night.

Obviously this isn’t the case…

On my first day back, I was assigned airport alert. So far I had really good luck with getting not only a trip but a great trips. No such luck this time. What is did was left me with two days in scheduling’s hands at the end. So after my glamour of Paris and Madrid, I was assigned a domestic two day trip.
The check in wasn’t until 2000, which this late sleeper likes, and the first leg was a dead head to Vegas. It wasn’t too shabby as the crew was nice and gave me water and a first class seat. Luckily I was able to sleep for a couple of hours. After the five and a half hour flight, I gather my belongings and looked for coffee. There was none to be found in the immediate area so I walked the next-door gate and bored the flight I was sent to work. The local time now is midnight, three a.m. to me. It was a red eye back to Houston.

They assigned me first class galley and as usual, I had not a clue where anything was, didn’t know that I was supposed to stand for the demo. But it was plenty of time to figure it out as I only served four drinks the whole flight and then read my book.

Had eleven hours in the airport hotel before I worked the next flight back to base. Again, I was first class galley but this time had an aisle guy. I was trying to convince him to do a nice international like service but he was having none of it.

The huge difference between domestic an international is the pride we take in our service, our appearance and our hard work ethic. I was informed that the domestic flight attendants don’t get off their jump seats to work until the seatbelt sign goes off. This is long after international people; we jump up as soon as the double ding.

Our service is consistent, thoughtful and lengthy. We used pick up pans for rubbish not trash bags. In first class a silver tray is attached to your hand. The differences could go on and on. It made me grateful to be in my base and proud to be a hard worker. It was honestly hard to try to go with the domestic flow and not work hard. It was a nice break and even though I exchanged my Thursday night for a nights sleep in the crew room, it is nice to be on my way home and not exhausted from time changes and working my butt off!

mulligan please

2011-07-05T00:37:00.000-04:00

I came in from Paris on Saturday and was released to a 24 hour break. By the time I made it home, the clock was down to 22 hours. I decided to take a look at all the trips for the following day, there were loads. Everyone calls out sick for the 4th of July and even though this would be my first one of the USA, I was excited at the choices. At my fingertips was Stockholm, Paris, Brussels, Geneva, Amsterdam, Madrid and all the usual UK stuff.

After a quick debate, I clicked on Madrid; I had never been prior. The flight was good, I worked in the front with a class mate and even though we had a large ground delay and majority of the passengers acted like upgrades, it was an easy flight.

We finally got to our rooms around noon and I was wiped. I set my alarm for two hours and crawled into bed. There was something strange going on with my mobile as it believes I am in Turkey or something. Anyway, the damn alarm didn't go off and I ended up waking up at 1800. This displeased me greatly as I wanted to go and explore the city. The good news is that Spain is a late country, dinner isn't usually consumed until ten so it gave me some time.

I went downstairs and received a map from the front desk with very specific instructions on where to go and what to see. I walked easily to the first couple of attractions and then ignored my instinct to turn right. This resulted in one of the many getting lost points of my day. I underestimated the vastness of this city and overestimated my sense of direction. It was not a good combination. Even though I enjoy getting lost in a new city, when time is ticking down on me it makes me feel uneasy. The Metros are not all over the place and the map I was given wasn't the greatest.

Disappointed, I got so turned around I didn't manage to see hardly anything. Once I took a train and then the Metro back to familiar ground, I treated myself to a much needed beer and some tapas.

I am hoping scheduling will grant me a do-over in the near future.

for the love of a city

2011-07-01T17:27:00.000-04:00

My unused airport alert on Thursday did provide me the opportunity to pick up a trip. I only looked at the city and was so entranced, I didn't look at the position...back galley. I am not good at the back galley in any plane, let alone a wide body. I thought for sure someone would trade but I was met with snobbery when I asked. The speaker finally traded which put me out in the aisle. You have a bar cart partner and the relationship with that person can make or break the flight. I have lazy bitch as my partner. The trip isn't going well.

I got a bad vibe off of her from the get go and was disappointed to see she was on my side. It is typically the French speakers who are lazy but this one...she didn't do shit. When I am working, I just want to get the service over with, so I bust my ass. I did the drinks, the meals, the pick up the dah, dah, dah. This isn't a hard job, let's get it done. I came back with the second meal cart full and went off. The other reserve, not the lazy one felt my wrath and went to pick up. At the very end of the flight when we all pow-pow'd about our mutual feelings of disgust, I handed the bitch a pick up pan. "Your turn, we have all been out there." She looked at me with a profound look but went out there and picked up.

Here is the catch-22. Tomorrow, I can play that game and make her pick up my slack; I can doddle with the best of them. But, but we have crew breaks. That means we all want to finish as fast as possible so we can get more nap time in. Guess I will mess with her on the second service. And watch out for her name on future flights.

~~~~~ the layover
I had actually forgotten about my distaste for most of the crew after my nap here in Paris. That is the beauty of this job, letting go right after the flight is over.

We arrived after an hour and half bus ride into the city. I awoke from my mini nap just in time to see the Eifel Tower; I immediately smiled! We are staying in a new hotel so I was quickly shown around by the purser, who took an immediate shining to me. We had to wait a bit for our rooms so I decided to have coffee and then go straight out exploring.

The view from my room is the river and the mini statue of liberty. I had never seen it up close so I started my journey there. I crossed over the river and began my 4 hours of walking, shopping, exploring. I love being here! However cliche it is, it is one of my favorite cities.

Without my usual rest, I hit a wall around the fourth hour. My lunch of croque monsieur and wine put me over the edge, bed called out. Of course my sleeping pattern is a bit jacked and I am beating myself up for sleeping until the gym closure. Funny because I probably walked 12 miles today. Oh, well!

The funny thing about this layover. The last time I was in Paris was September 2008. I remember it well even though I had been working Paris trips all summer. I had been dumped the night prior. Paris is not a lovely place when newly single. Now I return with a new love. The love that was meant to be. Sometimes it takes a small pause of recognition and three years time to remember.

there and back

2011-06-29T23:19:00.002-04:00

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!!

couldn’t have been a sock….

2011-06-25T08:33:00.003-04:00

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.

AA to the third

2011-06-20T15:10:00.003-04:00

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

2011-06-20T15:10:00.000-04:00

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

RING....off to Frankfurt

0617

2011-06-17T18:50:00.002-04:00

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

brotherly love

2011-06-16T20:21:00.001-04:00

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!

pillow tease

2011-06-13T17:58:00.000-04:00

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!

no getting laid-layover

2011-06-12T01:06:00.000-04:00

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.

love/hate relationship

2011-06-09T23:20:00.000-04:00

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.

bookended

2011-06-07T16:33:00.000-04:00

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…

here i sit

2011-06-06T16:54:00.001-04:00

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.

the return

2011-06-05T17:25:00.001-04:00

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.

in conculsion

2009-09-17T00:17:00.002-04:00

Not many people have had the opportunity, or if they have, actually taken it. I have seen the world and lived in the greatest city imaginable. I got out unscathed other than a few broken hearts and a whole lot of lessons.

25c

2009-09-12T20:24:00.001-04:00

11 September 2009
I have overstayed my welcome here in New York City. When the day of the big move back to Portland arrived it was with much relief as I ached for missing the birth of my friend’s daughter, Labor Day bbqs, and friends in general. The previous two nights were in the company of my dear friends Carrie and Lauren. We laughed and enjoyed every second together including the open bar Merrill Lynch party we stumbled upon. There were tears at the good byes and a long walk home still didn’t ease the grief of leaving friends who have made my life bearable here. Breakfast plans were set with Beth at 0930 in order that I wouldn’t drink too much the evening prior, to get up before noon, to finish packing, and to get a hearty meal in. We met at Mogador and ended up talking business and exchanging gifts. It wasn’t as sad to say good-bye to her because I knew that we would be in loads of contact as the business starts and we are doing a dog/house swap come spring.
I walked home in the mist of the day that added a heavier heart to myself and those follow new yorkers whose mind was on the events eight years ago. I used my umbrella unlike a true Oregonian and arrived home around 1200. I promised myself to get everything packed and clean and into the shower by 1430. Things were going pretty well until I figured out the bag was not as big as it was in my mind and I was running out of room. How, why do I have so much crap? I found a box previously used for my destination raffle and packed it full of odds and ends. I rushed down to FedEx at 1400 and it started pouring down rain. After a 13-block walk, I combined my metro cards and hiked back. A quick shower and putting the last of my stuff in the allotted bags end up with: one large, stuffed duffle bag, my roller board, my backpack, two large purses, a whole foods bag, one pillow, and my Hampton’s sun hat. It took three trips to the elevator and then I realized that I was in desperate need of a cab. Trouble is that I didn’t live on a busy enough street, my bags can’t be drug around the block in one load, and it was pouring down rain. Cabs become gold when it is raining. I took my couple of bags around to Spring and prayed no one wanted to walk off with the remaining bags in the lobby. I stood in the rain hailing unlit cabs for 5 minutes before a town car came by. I explained my situation and got the price tag of $20. Done! We sat in traffic and my hopes of making the 1800 flight began to fade. I didn’t arrive to Port Authority until 1630. The ticket guy gave me a big hug goodbye and told me he would miss seeing me. Nicest thing that happened to me all afternoon. The bus driver was also a doll and helped me out with my luggage as we pulled up to terminal c at 1710. There was free cart available and the guy at the check in desk kindly checked my bags and luggage rack without an ounce of attitude. I walked through security quickly (thank you crew id) and made it to the gate 5 minutes before boarding. The cookies to the agent proved golden as I now sit on my own row. The cookies to the crew have allowed me whatever I need to be comfortable. Defiantly not the flight I took Monday, thank god! I rested for a bit prior to my turkey dog and ginger ale. In three hours I land and make my way home. Home to a bed that I can sleep in forever if I like. To my house with my bathroom, windows that open to fresh air, a neighborhood that makes life easy and manageable. I move home to friends, and new career. I move home with world experience, eyes and mind open, a New Yorker in attitude on reserve, and an Oregonian in kindness and consideration.

I leave NYC on the weekend of the VMA awards, the US Open and fashion week and for once, couldn’t give a damn less.

The journey is now complete and in Carries words, come full circle.

only in nyc on sullivan street

2009-09-09T23:03:00.002-04:00

Allow me to set the scene: I had just gotten back from walking Carrie to the subway stop and opted for a tasti-d-lite before going home. I wanted to eat it outside and enjoy the remainder of the summer. I approached my building and sat on the curb leading to the door. There were a couple of tipsy guys next door being silly and I was paying them no mind. Suddenly one guy approached and asked if he could throw his Porsche keys at me again. What? He threw them towards me and I just looked him and then his other friend came and started talking to me as well. The key thrower was a black guy who claimed to be a social worker and then showed me the medal his was wearing from the honor society. The other guy who claimed to be his cousin was a Spanish man missing his front two teeth, wearing a cowboy hat and tight dress shirt. A first thought he seemed gay. They continued to talk to me much to my humor and then the Spanish guy lit up a bowl. All of a sudden the black guy with the medal started singing to me and the Spanish guy leaned over to point out that his fly was undone. A moment later someone came out of my building with a French bulldog and the dog just stopped cold and stared at the guy singing in an awful key. The owner immediately picked up the dog and walked away while I busted out laughing at the whole scene. As if on cue a couple walked in between us and gave the guy a strange look to which he replied that he was trying to get laid. The dog, now five feet away is still staring at the guy and the owner has to pick him up again. Now a businessman comes home to my building and isn’t fazed by any of this.

Still chuckling, I made my way into the building and bounded upstairs to get this all down. Man, I am going to miss New York!!!!

valium writing

2009-09-09T23:03:00.001-04:00

I am about as miserable as a person could be on a plane. There are children all around me screaming and one directly behind hitting my seat every so often. What makes this situation worse that there are seat available in first and for some unknown reason I, the only non-rev was not upgraded. It is a Houston crew; I could tell the minute they showed up at the gate that even after I gave them gummy bears won’t even acknowledge me. I opted to take a Valium miraculously hidden in my bag to knock myself out. It hasn’t worked and I break out in tears every so often as I have yet to deal with the week that is ever so slowly coming to an end.
It is my fault that I am currently entrapped in this misery. I am the one who took charge when I thought the call was up to me about staying a few more weeks in New York. After mulling it over with the pregnant one who my September revolved around and deciding that it would be safe to stay without missing the big day and that way I could go on holiday and make a few bucks while I readied the business. It all made sense at the time, but now I realize that I was supposed to go home prior. I should have taken the trip to Greece by myself because I didn’t even end up going to Greece; we diverted our plans to Lisbon instead. I had already gone there on holiday but wanted so much to take advantage of having someone who actually wanted to travel with me that I said ok, 13 hours prior to the flight departing when the suggestion was offered up. I had a good time, yes but it wasn’t the greatest holiday ever, it wasn’t the one I needed to bookend my journey.
Since everything seemed in place with dates and occurrences, I volunteered myself to the dog walking business in NYC. It was a good time since Beth was on vacation and I could not only get some more practice in before the big show of my own but also make some money.
I spent most of Saturday recovering from the week of “where are we staying tonight?” and happy to be in one place. I wasn’t sure I was going to have the focus for the business and surprised myself in my diligence to get things done.
Sunday I sat off for the LES to dog sit a bulldog named Beatrice. Carrie and I had made plans for the NY Sunday brunch that I had so desperately wanted for almost a year now. After walking the mile to find the apartment amongst the mass quantity of buildings in Stuy town, we met up for eggs Benedict and bloody marys. There was also a street fair/art exhibit going on in Tompkins Square that we took in. I brought Carrie back to the apartment so she could meet Bea and go on a walk with us. The owners left me a note about a wagon that she rides around in. And for the next hour and a half we drug the dog around the neighborhood much to everyone’s (including our) delight. The rest of the evening was spent in a gorgeous apartment wondering if they were happy with their lives and how do I get to the point. I slept restlessly on the couch waking to her every move just in case she needed anything.
Morning walks filled my agenda as well as much needed coffee. I was and still am in a foul mood and did everything in my playbook to shake it; nothing worked. Ended up going home between dogs to pack up another bag and go through the remainder of my stuff. I long desperately that this could be the last flight home instead of me coming back for a 20-hour period in which I hope Stella is born. To add to the pressure of walking the dog at 530, returning keys a mile away, and making it to the bus stop all within 30 minutes I also need to find a way home tomorrow so I can continue walking the dogs as promised to Beth. I ended up calling a car service since my half-mile walk from the subway to apartment with bags almost broke me earlier. Love how you can buy anything you need in NY…gonna miss that. What I am not going to miss is how freakin long it takes to get something accomplished and how when there is a time frame, complications surely appear.
The good thing about these extra two weeks is that I have my business in line. The website is done, the cards and note pads are designed and ordered and I am mentally ready to take on the dogs. And I am so ready to have my space back…the weekend cannot come fast enough!!

portugal holiday

2009-09-09T23:02:00.000-04:00

will write soon....

first class..that's a joke today

2009-08-30T16:30:00.002-04:00

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.

one last time

2009-08-28T20:48:00.003-04:00

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.

expectations

2009-08-25T17:28:00.003-04:00

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?

why it's important to be a new yorker

2009-08-22T01:32:00.002-04:00

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.

2?

2009-08-18T20:09:00.002-04:00

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.

depression war

2009-08-17T01:45:00.002-04:00

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.

lhr....3 to go

2009-08-17T01:29:00.003-04:00

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.

high school posters

2009-08-12T14:45:00.003-04:00

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.

4430 t.a.b.…four

2009-08-11T19:00:00.002-04:00

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,

6 to go...oslo

2009-08-08T22:55:00.006-04:00

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.

5 to go. twilight zone

2009-08-08T22:55:00.004-04:00

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

400

2009-07-28T15:11:00.003-04:00

For my 400th post I am going to look at all the things (that I can think of) that have changed since I have lived in NYC.
(about the city, there has been 399 other post about changes in me)

metro card was $1.75 now $2.25
NY post was .25 now .50
tribough bridge is now RFK bridge
bridge toll was $6 now $8
spitzer was governor now it's patterson
hilary was our senator, now some lady with kids
the crown has reopened on lady liberty
cigarettes are now $11/pack
4th of July fireworks on the hudson this year
old yankee stadium closed and new stadium opened
same for shae, now citi field or as we dub it tax payers field
mighty wall street crashed
the yankees missed the playoffs for the first time in 13 years (i was at the last game)
the oak room in the plaza hotel has reopened
TKTS now accepts credit cards
taxis now have tvs and accept credit cards
the law changed on how many times a person can run for mayor (2 to 3)
the NY Giants won the superbowl (greatest game ever, btw)

this will be edited as i remember more things or find all the notes that i constantly write to myself.

29 july

2009-07-28T15:08:00.003-04:00

i have been corrected about my first flight as a crew member, it was in fact 29th of July. I completely forgot about base orientation.

I was sitting airport alert for the second day in a row when the phone rang for the girl in front of me. She pitched a fit about having to go to Zurich and even though I had plans for the evening, I told her I would go. No dice, it's first in, first out. The third hour of arrest was half way through and I begin planning out my dinner and what I would wear to a fundraiser that evening when the phone rang again. I jumped up to grab it because I was covering for a classmate of mine who went to get a donut and it was for me. I was instructed to go to the gate and replace a flight attendant who lost is id badge. So on I went to gate 72. The guy was a bit of a dick to me to say the least when I told him what I was instructed to do and told me he'd be back when he found his id. I told him he could come back but I wasn't getting off the plane. So I scrambled around the back galley as I never work back there and have no idea what to do and off we were to Barcelona.
So my favorite layover ever was repeated on the third anniversary of my first layover. Only this time it was different. My pilot friend, Jim was not on the flight. I couldn't drag myself out of be until 1700 to go sight seeing since my body is having none of this working all hours of the night business. Instead I took the metro down to the beach and walked and walked. I dipped my feet into the Mediterranean and thought about my journey and how it is coming to a close. Then I wandered through the streets snapping photos and enjoying the Spanish culture. I stopped to refer to my map and looked up to see the damn hard rock cafe that I walked in circles for on the last visit. Finally I was hungry so I hopped the metro back, changed clothes, grabbed my book and treated myself to dinner. I sat alone and had a fantastic meal but missed company.

I realized this: you can repeat a destination but never the experience. Live in the moment when it is happening, enjoy every second because it is fleeting.

7.25

2009-07-25T10:47:00.003-04:00

I am not sure if it was exactly three years ago today that I was on my first trip as a flight attendant. I am at the age when things are becoming a little foggy. However I can tell you that it was eleven years ago today that I was hit and run by a car while riding my bike down to Fred Meyer and my scar on my knee and wrist remind me to be smarter about life decisions. I can also tell you that nine years ago today, Matt kissed me for the first time.

The past three years have felt like a different lifetime, and in some ways I guess that it has been. I am not sure where I was last year at this time, I know that I was busy working, busy enjoying life and balancing the three jobs and a boyfriend. I know that I was packing up my first apartment in the city and getting ready to move to BK. I know that I was happy last year at this time and the year prior as well. July is a good month for me and maybe, just maybe that accident happened so I could stop and reflect about a year past and have a smile at it's conclusion to this anniversary of something that may have injured me more. I am happy now even though there are a million questions coming at me about what I am going to do and where I am going to live. Right now I am living in the moment and stopping today to not only celebrate the change of life that is happening to Nichole but also the cross road of a change that will happen in me as well soon.

news

2009-07-22T09:28:00.003-04:00

July 21 (Bloomberg) -- Continental Airlines Inc., the fourth-largest U.S. carrier, said it will trim 1,700 additional jobs and increase some fees after reporting a $213 million second-quarter loss as demand and fares declined.

The deficit of $1.72 a share widened from a loss of $5 million, or 5 cents, a year earlier, the Houston-based airline said today. Sales fell 23 percent to $3.13 billion.

The job cuts, which represent 3.9 percent of Continental’s workforce, reflect the pressure on the industry from the collapse of business travel in the recession and fare sales to fill planes. The reductions are on top of 1,200 eliminated positions the carrier has announced since May. Continental’s quarterly loss was its seventh in a row.

“We must take aggressive steps to increase revenue and reduce costs,” said Chief Executive Officer Larry Kellner, 50, who is stepping down and being succeeded on Jan. 1 by President and Chief Operating Officer Jeff Smisek.

The job reductions and fee changes will produce $100 million in annual benefits when fully implemented next year, Continental said. The carrier will add $5 to checked-bag fees for customers who do not prepay online and increase by $5 the cost to make a telephone reservation.

Severance Costs

Excluding $44 million in costs for severance, terminated contracts and a drop in value of Boeing Co. 737 jets that are being retired, Continental’s loss was $1.36 a share. On that basis, the loss was 1 cent more than the average forecast of 10 analyst estimates compiled by Bloomberg.

Continental asked 700 flight attendants last month to accept leaves beginning Sept. 1 as U.S. summer travel wanes. It eliminated about 500 reservations jobs when it shut a Florida call center last week. The carrier cut 3,000 jobs in 2008 as fuel prices rose to record highs.

Also releasing results today are UAL Corp., whose United Airlines is the third-biggest in the U.S., and fifth-largest Southwest Airlines Co. American Airlines parent AMR Corp. posted a second-quarter loss excluding one-time expenses of $319 million, or $1.14 a share, on July 15.

Combined losses excluding one-time costs at the eight biggest U.S. airlines may be $1.2 billion, according to Michael Linenberg, a Bank of America Corp. analyst in New York.

In June, Continental increased its target for shrinking seating capacity this year to 6 percent from 5 percent. The carrier has suffered from waning corporate-travel demand because it has about 50 percent of its seating capacity in international markets, the most among major U.S. carriers.

Flu Outbreak

An outbreak of the H1N1 virus, also known as swine flu, reduced revenue by about $50 million for Continental and its regional airline partners. Continental, with the most flights to Mexico of any U.S. airline, cut its seating capacity between the U.S. and Mexico in half during May as demand collapsed.

The airline’s yield, or average fare per mile, tumbled more than 18 percent in its main jet operations, led by a 24 percent drop on flights across the Atlantic. Revenue for each seat flown a mile, which reflects demand and fares, fell 17 percent, as miles flown by paying passengers dropped 5.7 percent.

Continental paid $762 million less for jet fuel than a year earlier as the price per gallon dropped 40 percent. Costs for each seat flown a mile, a measure of efficiency, fell 13 percent.

Second-quarter costs for pulling Boeing 737s out of service were related to Continental’s decision last year to park 73 mainline planes and an unspecified number of regional jets in 2008 and 2009 to lower operating costs.

Continental ended the quarter with $2.77 billion in unrestricted cash, cash equivalents and short-term investments.

Kellner’s plan to step down to start a private-investment firm was announced by Continental on July 16. He became CEO in December 2004.

To contact the reporter on this story: Mary Schlangenstein in Dallas at maryc.s@bloomberg.net

Last Updated: July 21, 2009 07:35 EDT

the question posed:

how are ya sister? how bout that big news today?!?! was looking at your profile and it sounds like you are so unhappy with the job - and i'm just curious to know as to why you are so unhappy with it?

my answer after thought:

hey gorgeous!! I am well, the good part about not working a lot is that i at least get to enjoy nyc all summer.
i thought about your question last night and have come up with this answer.
craig, you and i have different jobs. yes we are both cabin crew for the same airlines but i live my life in fear.
i fear that i won't be able to pay rent next month because i don't control my schedule.
i fear that if i do give in and make plans, that i will have to cancel them do to scheduling messing with me and i will have to break a commitment.
i fear that if i pick up a trip (with the only control i think i have) that it will be taken away for me.
i fear that i will miss the phone ring on a 24 hour call out and i will be in trouble with my supervisor.
i fear that my life is not my own.
i can handle all of this in the winter because i know it will happen but now, when we are supposed to be busy?
it is more of a mind suck than anything, and there is only so much that an intelligent adult can deal with.
i have come too far to quit, so i am riding out the wave for a reward to the almost year of not being busy.
i would love a furlough, if i don't receive a cola...i need a mental break from the fear.

mr preston

2009-07-13T14:44:00.000-04:00

The feeling of being with a friend, the comfort was undesirable between us. We spoke for hours about everything and could have spoke for days longer. It was a give and take, a real adult conversation; we were not longer teacher and pupil, we were adults and friends.
I picked up a trip to Bristol because of the three choices of first class positions; I liked this city the best. Well, since I have never actually explored the city but had a great time visiting things surrounding the city. It dawned on me later that Bristol was close to Wales. I have been wanting to go to Wales for quite some time as it just next door to the oh, so familiar England and a part of my heritage stems from there. Another reason I longed to go and visit this country filled with myths and castles is due in part to my jr high teacher.
I had gone to a private school my seventh grade year and was placed in eight grade level since I was the only seventh grader enrolled. There was a click, as there tends to be in middle school, of five. Ken, Curtis, Rachel, Amy and myself. We wore Espirt and Guess and were represented by our favorite color of Skittles. We were inseparatable and adore each other thoroughly. Our teachers were as follows Mr. Wimmer who talk math, Dori who taught health and made us wear sand around for weeks on end, Scott our cool ass science teacher who liked to curse a lot, and finally our main teacher Mr. Preston.
I don’t remember what the first day was like meeting him because he was new to the church group prior to the school year. I do remember loving his accent and listening to him tell stories about Wales. When I look back now, I think he was planting the travel bug in me without my knowledge. It would take years for this bug to actually bite me. The first week he attempted to teach us English, we informed him that he was not suited to do so because he couldn’t even speak it properly. Thus yours truly got the role of the English teacher for the year.
We conjured up so many memories yesterday of things I remembered and then he would remember something. It was humorous to relive those moments that when in mind, only seemed like a few years ago. But alas, it has been twenty.
Cardiff in itself was a great little town. We enjoyed a pint while wandering through the food festival along the bay. We would stop and chat for a while and then move on. I found it necessary to take a ride on the slide and couldn’t convince Steve to be a kid with me. We took an open bus tour, ate some fish and chips and I tried mushy peas. They taste a lot better than they actually look. We went for a drive in the country, and I was not only able to meet his children and connect with his beautiful wife, but I was also taken to the castles of stories
It was such an amazing day, mostly for my soul. Some teachers really do make a life long impact on their students….

lack of concentration

2009-07-10T14:20:00.004-04:00

The lack of writing hasn't been for lack of thought or story lately. It is due to the simple fact that I have become ADD lately.
I am living in this amazing space for the month of July and possibly August and I just want to soak up every moment possible here. I have the fortune of participating in a housing swap with a guy who lives in SoHo bordering the West Village. Both are incredible neighborhoods which I used to wander around prior and wonder what it would be like to live here. Now I am here. I have a smile on my face every moment when I walk out the door or when I am walking past incredible restaurants on my way back home. I am not sure how long I will get to live here so I am living each day as though it was my last here in NYC. I have turned down any sort of travel this month and even feel bad leaving for a trip for work. I walk around and wonder if anyone wants to give me there rent controlled apartment forever and if there is a market for dog walkers here in this neighborhood. All in all I feel very blessed and want the month to go in slow motion.
I am continuing my life as a minimalist as I am living out of a trunk and a small closet space. It doesn't even phase me and I am dressing better now that I walk out the door to a catwalk half the time. One of the most important lessons I have learned from this journey is the lack of necessity for so much crap. I only need my spirit and the rest of the stuff is just filler in life.
I have many more epiphanies but must find the notes on which I write these down. The are scattered through out my pocketbooks and in my phone. I have learned so much from living here and even though I haven't got the chance to really get it down and work through it, I live it everyday. And that is what is important.

all for hairless toes

2009-06-27T23:06:00.002-04:00

I am glad Carol is here to witness the predicaments I get myself into as well as to bandage me up afterwards.
The hair on my toes was brought to my attention by Janene one summer afternoon while in flip flops. I just shrugged it off any figured everyone had it, so who gives a shit. I am lucky enough not to be one of those really hairy chicks, I have light blond hair everywhere but my head and...well back to the story.
I felt them rustling in the wind in Hawaii and then again in Panama. It is a weird feeling to feel the hairs on your toes moving in the wind. I didn't like it one bit. So when i got home I got out the veet. Problems solved for a month or so and then there were those bastards again and know they have gotten darker. I marched down to the Rite Aid below my building and picked up some wax. Should be easy enough as I have waxed my eye brows in the past and those of my then boyfriend. I saw Hilary waxing with ease as well so off I went. Much more effective and a lot less smellier than the veet. I choose to conquer this feat once more since summer is now here and since Carol is visiting, I thought it a great idea that she could pull the wax off as she would have a better angle on the subject.
I bounced into the darken kitchen and placed the jar in the microwave for the appropriate amount of time. I wanted to heat it quickly and return to my room as I was sure if idiot was home or not. I tore off a piece of paper towel and went to grab the wax by the edges. Well it shifted and poured onto my hands, the cutting board, counter and then gathered on the floor. I immediately began cursing silently and jumping up and down holding my fingers which are not only burned but also covered in wax that is cooling very fast. I ran my hands under cold water and then grabbed an ice cube. I tried it first on the mess than now lay before me in its entirety since I have thus switched on the light. I realize I am going to need help. I walk the five feet to my room and ask Carol if she can come and help me. She begins telling me a story about hot gluing her fingers together. And then moves onto another story. I interrupted and asked if she could continue with the story while she helped me with the mess. I have three fingers out at this point. We grab more ice and tons of paper towels. I open the drawer and grab the cheese cutter. We do stop and apply wax to my toes since it has cooled down and we still have an object to achieve. Carol takes over as I am surrendered helpless by the throbbing of my hands. "Please don't let Jase be home, please don't let Jase be home." After the mess is cleaned up and the cutting board is flipped over, she removes the wax. And then walks me in to apply snoopy band aids to the fingers who took the fall for the hairless toes.

moments in the apple this week

2009-06-26T17:44:00.003-04:00

I has taken me two years to really get the stride of the city. I have hopstop as my backup but generally know how to get anywhere I need via the subway. Granted there are those times when I have my ipod too loud and I miss a stop or I am too tired to logically think about which way I am really going but those times were I have it under my belt give me a rush.

I am absolute love with New York City right now. It is summer and since I haven't been flying, I have actually been taking advantage of the city. Tuesday I made mad ass karma points with the universe by helping carry my twin mattress 10 blocks including the stairs of Morningside Park to its new owners apartment. What was funny about the whole thing is that he kept asking for breaks because he was getting tired. After I went to watch my friends play in a band as I normally do when I am free on Tuesday nights. I couldn't talk any of my ladies into going and thought that was a good thing in the end since I was just going to have one beer. I had airport arrest at o'dark forty five. Well, guess who didn't get home til 0330 and was still drunk on the bus ride in? I am so glad I wasn't sent anywhere and was able to sleep the whole four hours. The next evening I played softball on a semi-date on Roosevelt Island. I am super excited not only to get out and enjoy the evening but also to go somewhere new in Manhattan. Even more exciting was the tram ride back to the city, I felt like a little kid. The team won and then tested our luck at pub trivia. Great evening.
Last night some of my ladies and I got together to watch Shakespeare in the park. It was the reenactment of King Lear and the play was done on the run. Every few scenes we would chase the actors through Battery Park. Totally great experience! We stopped into some weird bar from the 80's for a couple Ladies night cocktails and then called it good.
Today, I got shit done including walking a dog. I also fed'exd some packages and took my camera up because I wanted to get some shots of Harlem. Unknown to me was the gathering of people in honor of Michael Jackson at the Apollo Theatre. I stood in amazement as they sang his songs in glorious harmony and chanted for a legend. This is what New York is all about, moments like these!

2f

2009-06-21T19:58:00.002-04:00

He walked on first out of my 14 customers in first class, standing above his seat, I gave him time to get settled. After he got done combing his hair I finally approached and asked what he would like to drink.
"Whatta got?"
"We have a large selection of beverages, is there something you had in mind?"
"Champagne"
I turn back to prepare and deliver it to him and start greeting the rest of my passengers. He begins to wave at me.
"This thing has three prong holes and the headphones have two."
"I assure you sir, it works with two, the third is for your own personal headset."
I get the rest of my customers drinks and he summons me once more. He begins telling me about some pilots in the back and something about United Airlines. He is mumbling and my ear block do not make a good combination; my hangover is making my patience of trying to figure out what he is speaking of less.
Pressure is on to get things finished before the safety demo so I am taking orders from my passengers. I have six golfing guys who are an absolute riot but don't understand that I don't have time to chat with them right at the moment. All I need to know is your main course option and your salad dressing. We'll work everything else out in the air.
Well I get to 2F and he tells me he has a question. I take a seat next to him and ask what his question about the menu is.
"Glenlivet"
I stare blankly. "Sir, that is not a question."
"Glenlivet"
"Are you asking me if we have Glenlivet on board?"
"Yes"
"We do have it but it can't be served until we are in air, I will be asking what you want to drink when I begin the service."
"Is is 12 or 18 year"
"Sir I don't know, as soon as we are in the air, I will bring you the bottle."
"I want it with my mushroom soup"
"Sir, what meal would you like...."

While presenting the warm nuts, I bring the mini of scotch and asks if this is what he would like to drink. He examines the bottle and says yes. I ask if he would like it neat or on the rocks. He says without ice and I go to remove the bottle in order to pour it and present it back. He snatches the bottle, so I just brought him a glass.
The appetizers are presented and I have to describe each of them twice. He decides on the empanadia and soup. He is also three pieces of bread in by now. I am clearing dishes away to prepare for the salad course and he yells that he is not done with his soup because there is a sip left. It takes me a bit to figure out when he is finished with things, he puts them in the middle of his and the empty seat next to him. When I see he is finished with his scotch, I ask if he would like another one or perhaps a glass of wine. He asks what reds I have. I go through the list and tells me the "second one" and as I pour the Chote de Rhone he mumbles something about a wine tour in 1976. I nod and pour faster. When I go to refill it later he tells me that it is full bodied. Okay, wine expert.
Cheese was along the same line of him thinking I said Gouda instead of goat. And then he wanted to look at the port. I presented him the bottle and he begins telling me what kind of port Delta serves. Do you want some or not?
The ice cream cart is presented and by this time I have served everyone else in the cabin first and just come back to him. I explain what toppings we have. "No raspberries?" Did I say raspberries, um no!
He stay up the whole flight and held onto his linen for a good four hours. During breakfast service he looked perplexed but we got through it pretty quickly.
As I was giving back jackets and saying my goodbyes I told him to have a good day. He asks me where I live in Scotland. Sir I am from Oregon not Scotland.
The customers are disembarking and I am at the "bye-bye position". I am asked to come up front because the guy (who has been dubbed my boyfriend by the other idiot crew members) wants to talk to me. He starts mumbling and here is what I catch.
"Walla Walla, Pendelton, fur traders, Arkansas, shooting someone", and then he point to his nose and says something about a mustache and laughs hysterically.
I smile politely and after he exits, I ask everyone standing around me if they understood any of that. He also asked Paul from Houston if he was from Massachusetts and Ivan from Russia if he was Swedish.
I bet this loony bin is a multi-millionaire. But money doesn't buy sanity.

over it

2009-06-18T01:01:00.002-04:00

It's official, I am over it. The job if you can call it that. I prefer to think of it as a burden on my time with flight benefits. I am in Edinburgh on a layover, the first I have had all month actually and although it is a million times better than airport alert, it is not my cup of Earl Grey Tea anymore.
I sat on the edge of my bed after picking up the trip just waiting for the phone to ring to tell me I was bumped off; to my great relief it did not. Then I got packed and made it to the bus stop for the hour ride wondering if I would get senior opted out of my position and have to work in the back. I shuddered at the thought. Then I wondered if I would like my crew especially the galley guy since we work so closely together. I wondered if the pilots were good looking and fun and if they were single. I ate my dinner on the bus since we hit traffic and it would be my only opportunity to eat prior to eleven at night. I wondered if the passengers would be nice, what the weather would be like in Scotland, and if I would be able to get back into the routine of flying.
Everyone was nice, nothing to write home about. And it kills me because you always have the same conversation with flight attendants. Where are you from? When did you get this trip? Where do you live? What did you do before this? Yadda, yadda, yadda. And you have to be polite because you are stuck on a plane with these people. I choose to read a book and let everyone else have the monotonous conversations, talk about nothing but flying, and tell rumors about the company. Why can't these people discuss world events or a piece of literature?
I struggled through the last hour of the flight prior to service as my eyelids demanded to close. Then we did the service and the attitudes of my passengers didn't change from dinner so I counted the minutes until I was in bed. The van ride was the same thing...chat, chat, chat. I put in my ipod to detour people from thinking I had interest in their gossip. I slept and slept until awoken by a friend on the late crew. I showered and met up with them and it was the same routine since I didn't know anyone but Shawn I had to answer the questions. Easier to do with a glass of wine in my hand. The tried to explain to me that reserve life is not that bad and one day I'll have my day in the sun. We went to dinner and then to listen to music; nothing exciting but it was nice to be out of the hotel room.
Now I have been up since 0430 GMT and have a long day ahead. I couldn't go back to sleep and it gets light here super early in the summer. So I have wondered around my room, repacked my luggage and thought about what time a coffee will be ideal to help me make it through the day.
I am taking a shower in a minute, putting on my uniform and shoes that I can't seem to get a funky smell out of, then meeting everyone downstairs to take a van to the airport. Once again I wonder if first class is full and if the passengers will be nice and I look forward to a time when I don't have to ask these questions.

shrink wrap love

2009-06-15T17:29:00.002-04:00

I am renewing my love with shrink wrap once more. I first discovered my affection for it when I moved out of my favorite apartment on the UES. I wondering how to keep my scared bookshelf together for the move and one thought was saran wrap and when walking by Big John's Moving shrink wrap jumped out at me. There was once upon a time when I work at Fred Meyer that we would do random stuff to peoples cars while they were working. Once upon a time my car was moved around to the back of the building causing no less than panic on my end. Other times the jokes consisted of filling the car with Styrofoam peanuts and shrink wrapping a car completely. These were the carefree days of late high school and early college when I ran with a jackass crowd and clearly had a lot of time on my hands. I have a lot of time on my hands these days as well and the only jackass I run around with is myself.

The bookshelf in question is still with me and I love it not only for its practicality but also because of its story. Every piece of furniture in my loft in Portland has a story, so this piece will fit in nicely. I was coming home from work shortly after moving into the city and passed by some curbside give-a-ways. I took a shining to the shelf immediately and rushed home to put away my bag and come back to get it. I took it home and cleaning it up and started arranging my books on it immediately. Since books have replaced my fetish for shoes, my shelf has become valuable in their display. I am determined to get my free bookshelf back to Portland somehow. For now it is shrinkwraped up and awaiting the next journey.

I believed I was making progress with this whole packing up the New York life project and sadly had my bubble burst by Amy. She commented that I had a lot of crap. Really? I was taken back because she has know idea how much stuff I have already sent back. It was perfect motivation today to get more organized and really take inventory of what I had left. It was also great to actually get the set of keys and a date from Kenny, the guy whose place I am taking over for July.

I wonder if we become the opposite of our parents upbringing. I was in the process of packing and thinking how exhausting it is to keep packing up ones life and taking it somewhere else. I can almost say that I loathe the process and just want to stay put for a long while. When I was a kid, I longed to move to another house or another town because I thought it would be great to shake things up a bit. But alas, we stayed put at old 3030 Cannon for all the years I lived there. When I was in Nebraska to see where my dad grew up he mentioned something unknown to me, that he had moved several times as a kid. My immediate question was: is that why we never moved? To which the answer was an infatic yes. Carol also moved around a bunch as a kid as her father was in the Navy. It makes sense to me now why we stayed put. I, on the other hand, have moved 23 times in my life all after the age of 18.
Enough already!

rest please

2009-06-13T00:06:00.003-04:00

I should be tired. It is midnight on a Friday night after a week of enjoying NY night life. My alarm is set for 0530 in order to pick Amy up at the bus stop, and I haven't sleep all that well this week unless you count those morning naps.
My mind has been beating up on myself this week due to circumstances beyond my control. I was given 3 airport alerts in four days with nothing coming from them other than $20/day wasted and the shortening of my journey to go postal on the place. The other two days, I sat around on call and finally asked for the last one off because my sanity was at an end.
I walked dogs instead and it was good.
I am with the dogs now, in fact. I am house/dog/cat sitting on the Lower East Side and so damn happy to be in another place and alone. I decided it was the perfect evening to sit around and watch a movie. The evenings of drinking and socializing have been fun but I always feel like I should have stayed home, not spent any money, and cured cancer or something instead. But if I do stay home and be a shut in to save money, blah, blah I feel like I am not taking advantage of living in the city. I am sure there is a happy medium, it is just not coming to me at the time in this strange place which is impeding my needed rest.
I am happy to have my friend in town to do tourist things with like walk the Brooklyn Bridge. I am also happy to have someone I trust fully around in my stomping ground. I adore my friends here but I feel like there is something lacking that I want to fit in so bad that I think too much about whether they like me or if I overstayed my welcome.
I know that I am just tired and I need to start taking care of myself. I need a routine, I need a life, I need to feel productive. Then, I hope to lay my head down and get some real rest for my soul.

fast track

2009-06-06T21:43:00.002-04:00

It is coming up on three years that I have been away from what I consider home. On the 15th of June three years ago I began this journey. There have been numerous ups and downs, laughs and cries, celebrating and mourning, smiles and tears. All of this time was served with no real purpose in mind besides seeing the world. It seemed ideal to leave Portland when I did especially after the mortgage crisis hit. I craved the chance to fill up my passport with stamps, to be a part of the conversations of world travelers; to say, I have been there.
I know that I am near the end of this journey because I can't hack it any more. It's not that I haven't tried to survive, I have. I have fought battles that should have sent me running home to my parents house with my tail between my legs. I have won some of these battles and lost others by great defeat. But I am still standing. There were days when I was standing on top of the world and could retain this life forever. The majority of time has been spent wondering what the hell I was doing and when it would actually pay off. I thought this summer would be my payoff, a chance to actually know what I was doing when it came to my schedule at the airline. The economy has been the airline enemy, and thus my seniority has remain stagnate. There are no new hires and the senior mamas can't retire because they have lost their retirement in the recession. I remain still on reserve and will probably do so for the next few years. I can see how this job would be amazing once you had a line, once you could control your life and your schedule. But my fingers are slipping one by one from the bar of sanity with this job.
The inability to commit to offers from friends, dates, or events have now turned into not even being asked as I never know an answer. And if I do say yes, it is not definite until I actually at the activity. I have let down and disappointed friends and myself numerous time with no malice. It took me a while to figure it out and I thought I was just feeling sorry for myself because no one was asking me to do anything. They had given up I learned, and I can't blame them. Any relationship is hard with this job, even a friendship with a flight attendant who understands takes so much effort to retain. I had a couple of boyfriends while on this journey and if your a blog reader, you know what happened to those. I am a loner here, and that doesn't fit my personality. I need friends, I need parties to attend, events to be asked to. But I have also realized that I need to make more of an effort in getting out there and making sure people know I am available. There is a fine line with stocker however that needs to be considered.
Money is always an issue no matter where you live, how much or how little you have, it always causes anxiety. Simply put: New York is expensive. I have found ways to survive on dollars a day but still it's New York, every once and a while you need to enjoy it.
Something my therapist said many months ago when I could justify $90/hr to go just hit home. I am so glad I took my tips and went to see someone because I had so many underlying issues that I never thought about. Her words were kind, wise, and sometimes not what I wanted to hear but they are embedded in me. She explained to me that being a flight attendant and living in New York was not one thing, it was two lives being lived simultaneously. I could split them up at any time. I didn't get it forever and then it just clicked the other day. At first I attributed this genius to myself but remembered Mary had said that ages ago. I don't like my job. There is maybe 5% in the past couple of months that I have enjoyed. Obviously the layover. The getting to work, the checking in, the airport alert, the getting in trouble with the only supervisor that seems to care about things, the working and catering to passengers, the working with random people whom you hope to like and get along with, the being forced to stay awake when the body screams for sleep, the having to wake up in the middle of the night and putting a smile on your face even though coffee is no where in sight, the toil on the body in bloat and bad skin, the wondering, "where the hell will I be tomorrow". It's too much, it's too much to pay for the reward of getting a good trip every once in a great while.
New York and I are in love. We have a fantastic relationship but it is a relationship non the less. We get in arguments and I wondering how I got here and how long I will have to put up with it's shit but I love it through out. My living situations have not been the best since coming out here but that is not NYs fault. It's nobodies fault, it is just me trying to find an economic niche. A home away from my Portland home, my perfect loft. And that is the issue, I have never taken one foot out of Portland, I was on my tip toes when I had reliable renters but I have always had an anchor more than just my friends. The best months I spent in NY were those six months after Christina alone on the UWS. I wish so much that I was back there and that I had never left. I wish money didn't have to dictate where I lived. I thrived in NY then and periods afterwards but not to that extent. I know that I have moved around to try and regain footing in this city but nothing has worked and at the end of the day money takes me back home. I could sell my loft but it hurts my heart to think about giving up the proudest thing I have ever accomplished. If I sold the loft, I could stay in NY and yes, I have thought about it.
So it comes down to this: a home is anywhere you make it. I need a home, that is why I am wondering around the world searching for happiness. Guess what? Home is in my heart, it happiness, it contentment, it will never leave me and all I have to do is nurture it.
My life prior even though great was about stuff, shoes and clothes and where I lived and what events I went to. That is what I wanted when I moved here. I wanted to be popular and have the same relationships and go to parties and be somebody. It took me three years to figure out why I have served this time away from the comfort of the known.

It is to learn this: it is not about what I have, it is about who I am.

The idea seems simple enough but knowing this has opened up a new path for the rest of my time here. It allows me to collect the memories, the experiences, the lessons, the laughter, and take it all into the being that I have become. This growth is not just over the past three years but over the past thirty two, the past three have just been fast tracked into my soul.

24 days

2009-06-06T17:02:00.002-04:00

I have spent the morning packing and attempting to organize the mess that is my room in Harlem. I have 24 more days to go and have been counting them for the past month. What lies in front of me is almost certain for July and a maybe for August. I have decided in order to keep my sanity I must just take it month by month.
Speaking of lack of sanity, I am assigned airport alert again tonight. It is late so I am not sure where or if I will be sent out. I did manage to get a good nights sleep for the first time in a week so I would be down for something new and fun. I did pack stuff to do if I get a boring one so the odds of being sent out since I am ready for anything will most likely be slim. Unprepared? Sure go here!
I am hoping for some quiet time either on the layover, at the airport to write. I have made the revelation. The reason why I have been on this journey came to me during my quick jont home. I want to explain it and analyze it and share it with the world.
I GET IT now!!
Now knowing my purpose will hopefully lay a path of intention in front of me.

shoe box

2009-06-03T01:37:00.000-04:00

I am putting shoe boxes away and looking at all the stuff in my old closet that needs to be organized. I am wondering why I have so much shit. Where did this all come from? What I don't get is why it was so important to me in the past. I am looking in shoe boxes and seeing shoes I forgot I owned. I run my hands over coats and dresses wondering what prompted me to purchase them in the first place. I love fashion, I loved it more here than I do in New York. I have survived for three years without this stuff. Why do I need shoes in every color? I thought I had a lot of stuff in NY to bring back here but staring at the clothing store I have in front of me, my life is mininualistic in NY. I just proved I can survive 10 days with the contents of one small back pack.
It seems odd to me that this is what once defined me. And it saddens me that if this is all I am going to be when I return to Portland, then I don't want it.

return to roma

2009-05-30T16:18:00.000-04:00

I think I was just asked my room number near the elevators to ensure I was not an early morning call girl.
I am dressed in my uniform sans jacket and just went out for a delightful cappuccino and an early morning walk around the hotel. Our plane is delayed by 20 minutes and I wish it were delayed by a whole day or more. I am in the Eternal City, one of my favorite of all time.
Once more I was the lucky recipient of an airport alert assignment and although it took two days in a row of warming the couch, I am so happy to be on this trip. This is what I live for, the brass ring which I only hold seldom but what keeps me coming back for more. All the elements were in place on this journey, a wide body plane, great crew (one crazy but that is normal), my favorite position in business first, crew that actually wanted to go out, combined with my favorite country in the world. If this is what I was able to do every time I packed for the airport, the decision to stay with this job would be a no brainer. But here is the thing: to “hold Rome” takes 20 years seniority. Really? I am going bonkers at 3 years with no line in sight.
Back to the silver lining. The group that gathered to wander around the most famous city in the world was two friends and a new girl who was sweet as could be. Our tour guide was a Columbian who thought he could talk his way around the city and we let him. He took us to every point on the cross in Angels and Demons and answered our pleas to go to the mouth of truth as well. Momentarily I was channeling Audrey as I suck my hand into the mouth and posed for a photo. It was so much fun to hang people to hang out with and of course not to have to beg strangers to take my photo. The only thing that would have made this journey better is a trip to the supermarket to load up on my favorite things but at last it is closed.
This I know for sure, I will always return to Italy, I have no doubt.

chicken fried, cold beer on a friday night..

2009-05-27T18:24:00.003-04:00

My decision to call sick was not like a bill to pass Congress, it only took a little nudge. I had some trouble with my gums prior in the weekend and the thought of them getting worse with flying, the fact I was assigned to work a trip with the crazy flower lady, and the invite for a great weekend lay before me made the case for the late night phone call.
The next morning we met on St Marks for the upcoming journey. I was assigned to a cook off team and was asked to wear a redneck costume for the meeting of the van. Only having a few hours to come up with something, I gave myself a black eye and then taped a confederate flag made from crayon to my chest with the illusion of being pregnant.
It took a couple of hours to get out the city and we hit traffic along the way but the eight hours in ol' Gertie paved the way to a fantastic weekend with many laugh-out-loud moments. We met up with Mama Sue and Don Caesar and left the pavement. Country tunes provided the perfect background music for the ride to cabin. When first told of this Redneck Weekend and a cabin in the woods of West Virginia I was ready to rough it, sleep in a tent without showering for days. I was more than pleasantly surprised to find a house in the woods with all the modern convinces. I did elect to sleep on the porch swing for fresh air and to really feel like I was out in the woods.
The Friday team made us wear togas, take multiple jello shots, and eat burgers from the grill. Afterwards we sat out on the back porch and talked into the wee hours of the morning. Drew got on a roll with telling stories and the three who were left standing loved every minute of it. The next day we donned our "Redneck Ranch" tee shirts and went into town for supplies. We headed to the local WalMart and wandered about with local eyes attempting to read and understand our tee shirts. I took this opportunity to practice my southern drawl and attempted to talk to as many locals as possible. Meanwhile across the store Beth had to translate the questions posed by our French friend with his accent. (Mind you he speaks impeccable English).
Back to the cabin and down to the creek for a little sun and cooling off in the water. Miller Lite was never far from our reach.
The Saturday team brought the elegance of the city to our cabin with a gorgeous fish dinner and the theme of pineapple through out. After dinner we played a game and then JR got his guitar out and we sang along til four in the morning.
I chose to drink Jack along with the boys so my headache was not well received. Instead Kate and I went on a high for a couple of hours and provided each other with therapy. When we returned we all got together and headed down to the creek. A little more standing in the water prior to our attempt at kayaking.
The Sunday team (including yours truly) fixed a traditional southern dish called old country boil. We started our evening off with sampling of four different kinds of Boones and the appetizers of wheat thins and cheeze whiz. Since they threw a northern in the mix, I insisted on some greenery. I made my famous Fiji apple, Gorgonzola salad. It ended up to be redneck because I forgot to pick up the correct cheese and had to substitute some serious cheddar. The main dish, the perfect finish to the weekend was laid out on table of newspaper. The fresh boiled corn, shrimp, sausage, and red potatoes was one of the best things I have ever had. Of course the miller lite made it even better. Our dessert was apples in crescent rolls with butter and cinnamon with a mountain dew over it.
Our team won the cook off hands down and was presented with aprons for our efforts. The games of horse shoes, toilet lid toss, and pumpkin spitting were dominated by JR who received a beer can telephone.
Once again we stayed up talking until the wee hours of the morning before heading back to the big city. Our drive was broken up with a stop at Cracker Barrel where I chose the chicken fried chicken with mac and cheese, apple dressing, and green beans, along with my sweet tea and biscuits.
It was the perfect weekend with good friends, good food, and many memories. I am so blessed to have a been a redneck...at least for the long weekend.

old blog

2009-05-19T10:32:00.001-04:00

I had a private blog once upon a time. A place for the output of my feelings without fear of being judged. I just read a few of my old post and thought I would share...

tuesday, april 25, 2006

ten year old haunt
Mistakes that follow you around for ten years are usually relationships haunts that people hold on to. I tend to forget about the relationship and the feelings and just remember the lesson I learned with that partner. Actually, it is difficult to even remember what it was like to be with my past interests. I won't call them loves, because I am unsure if I have ever truly experienced it. Sure I have had the crushes, the butterflies, the need-to-be-with-you-everydays, the care deeply for, but undying, this-is-it LOVE...not yet. Anyway back on track, my mistake was that of having a fake id, scratch that, it was getting caught with a fake id. I just returned from a private detectives office that could be in an old movie, up the dimlight stairwell into the office with beveled glass that bost of the name of the detective. I had to get fingerprinted in order to finish with the expungement process of hiding my nineteen year old mistake from all visible eyes but mine and that of my lawyer. Applying for an airline means that they do an FBI background check on you and you have to come clean about things in the past. And to add to the insult of this all, I have to plead for forgiveness from the Canadian government for my "crime" in order to gain entry. If someone would have pulled me aside at the bar, that fatefull night in 1996 and told me that I would be paying for my stupidity ten years later, I would have gladly went home and got an ice cream or done something I could legally do. All of this effort is due to me chasing after my dream of being a flight attendant (ie. seeing the world on a budget) and the break that came to me Friday afternoon, an interview in Chicago with the number one airline in the nation. I am doing everything in my power to nail this interview, I am ready to fly.

four day birmingham

2009-05-19T09:34:00.003-04:00

I am such a foul mood, and I would love to shake it. It am going to attribute it to the rain and to the stupidity of the cashier at Marks and Spencer. Yes that will do.
I am on a four day trip, the second trip ever longer than the usual layover. I picked it up with hopes of a reunion with my jr high teacher in Wales and the chance to be away from the apartment and its oddness for a day longer. Much to my dismay my roommate was home Sunday morning playing dj music at noon. It got me out of bed and forced me out for a coffee and a walk around. When I returned there was a guy coming out of our bathroom. He approached me and asked if I was Jases roommate. Uhm, duh. Yes. He introduced himself but his name didn't stick as I looked into his bloodshot eyes. He swayed with the music booming out of the other bedroom as his arms rose every couple of eight counts. He blocked my way to my room and asked what I was doing. I told him that I just got a coffee and now I have to get ready for work. He was perplexed by the fact I had to work on a Sunday. I made the mistake of telling him I was a flight attendant. His blood shot eyes and large pupils grew even larger. He then asked me if he could see me later. No, I replied, I am leaving town. He then just asked me out directly. I quickly replied I had a boyfriend and he asked me if I was sure. What I am sure about at this point was the fact that my coffee was about to wind up on him if he kept blocking my path. I held my story in tack and then told him to get out of my way. After a long shower, I was putting on my make up and there was a knock at my door. Sidenote: my roommate and I are down to texting and emailing each other as forms of communication, I answer my door and there was strung-out asking me if I wanted to order food with them. I replied no thank you. Food? The drug I thought he was on wouldn't want to eat, pot maybe? I didn't smell anything in the house. I got the hell out of there lickity spilt.

The flight over was pleasant minus one passenger who try as I might to win her over to my "drop the attitude" club she won't budge. I don't really care for women in first class for this reason and others that are obvious. My galley guy was not only a Northwestern but anal as all get out. We got along fabulously. We met up along with some other crew members for dinner and a play at the Royal Shakespearean Theatre. It was Julius Caesar and done brilliantly.
I had planned to rent a car today and drive to Wales. I wanted to put another country under my belt and it would be fun to drive on the other side of the road. I awoke to rain and decided against the journey as my old teacher was actually stateside and I didn't have anyone to road trip with me. Instead I walked crossed the bridge into the small quaint, very expensive town. I wandered in and out stores and each time I emerged it was a different sky. When hunger set in, I decided to go to M&S for a quick, cheap sandwich. While at the register I asked where I could eat my lunch as most have a small cafe. The idiot cashier once getting my request understood conferences with three other people before returning a blank look to me. You would have thought I asked about the Queen's hangnail...that they may have known about. So I grabbed my lunch and sat on the steps of their delivery door and ate my salad as people walked by and stared and my toes got wet from the mist.
I gave up on my day out and went back into the market and stocked up on supplies for the rest of the day in. Hoping there is a good movie on but bought the dirt book about Madonna for two pounds just in case.

I am grateful not to be at home. Rain or no rain, this is much better than being hit on in a place I pay to rest my head.

packing it up

2009-05-14T09:10:00.003-04:00

I have packed up my place, now room so many times in my head when things were dark and grey. But today when I have started this act tangible, it is overwhelming. Not for the idea that I am packing it up with Oregon as my outcome but instead of all the shit I have. I live in a 10x15 room for god sake! I wonder what I need for the next three months, what I can live without and what I might want to wear. It is all ridiculous considering I just survived ten days with a backpack. I wonder how I am going to get all this stuff back and wished I lived closer so I could just jump on a plane and go back and forth. I can't, I need to stay here and make money. I am ready to fill in shifts and get my head above water. I am in complete survival mode now, surviving my roommate, we have resolved to talk via email and that is fine by me. Surviving financially and emotionally. I long to be home and to be able to meet some one for a movie. My friends here have other things going on, as I am one to talk with just now getting back into town after three weeks.
I knew that my decision was correct when returning from Vietnam. On the bus journey home, I glanced to the skyline which always makes me smile either externally or inside, "hey I get to live there" and there was nothing. Complete apathy for the city. It could be attributed to my exhaustion but still yesterday on the way home, the same thing. Soon it will be over, this journey. Soon this struggle and loneliness will cease.
Or so I hope.

still here

2009-05-10T04:54:00.003-04:00

My day in NRT:

arrived at 0730
washed face, brushed teeth, freshened up
missed bus to terminal 1
had vietnamase guy share his negative insight of the world
made bus an hour later
got here on my id only
used internet
ate McDonalds (craving western food)
got sick
got a push cart
walked the entire length of concourse
stopped in every store
purchased random things
stopped in drug store
purchase stomach elixer
used internet
wandered more
went back and purchased ear picks for the novelity of them
had lunch
wandered more
stopped at Starbucks for coffee
read my book
had some guy come talk to me for an hour or so...nice but lost me when he asked if Paris was in Italy...he is American...enough said
got facial and hand massage
wandered back to gate, plane still delayed
used internet
just got paged to the CO desk
leaving now with my trusty cart...feel like a bag lady

long part of the journey

2009-05-09T23:31:00.002-04:00

It is always exhausting going home; even though I have been thinking about and been ready for it for days. I was able to take a quick shower before grabbing a cab out of the motorbike chaos of Saigon, then I waited for my flight to Narita and some guy who was on the flight to Hanoi with me came up and jawed my ear off. My sleep was once again restless and I figure it is because my legs are too damn long for that plane.
I arrived in Narita and made my way over to the other terminal on my id alone as I have yet to print out a boarding pass. I learned that my flight is now four hours delayed bring my total time here to 13 hours.
I am bored, I have gone in every shop there is. I ate some western food only to have my stomach give me the what for. Luckily there is a pharmacy here in the giant airport so I picked myself up some exliar and will stick to Japanesse food for lunch. I am debating on a shower or a facial, I can't afford both and I don't think they take dong here!
24 hours or so till I am in my bed. My bed in my messy room...let's not think about that right now!

the end days of Vietnam

2009-05-09T23:14:00.002-04:00

My first day in Saigon was good, I got a little hustled by a cyclo driver but the agreed price was paid at the end of the journey through town, to the insane market place, and to some pagodas. I also gave him here the here's what with New Yorkers and talk him the word extorsion. It was great to see things and it would honestly take days to explore the whole city, it is huge. After dropping off some shopping I regrouped and headed back out. I wandered around District 1 stopping for a beer and then having dinner. I also did a little souviner shopping and then headed home. On the way my damn flip flop broke and I was reduced to giving in to the incesant "motorbike?" request. I showered and scrubbed the hell out of my right foot and went to bed. It was the first time I had to set an alarm since my holiday began.
I organized my things and headed off to the booking office to catch my tour to the cu chi tunnels. I was sent on my way with breakfast and a loner pair of shoes from my guesthouse. I met a few Candaians on the journey but spent most of the time reading up on the upcoming places and enjoying "Slim Jim" conduct the tour. He was comical..."the bigger the bike the bigger the girl!" His english was learned from Aussies, Brits, and a few Americans so his antidotes were sometimes mixed together but still funny and educational.
Our first stop was a temple with the mix of four religions, one made up that escapes me now (their pope died in 1959 and they have yet to elect another one) Buddist, Catholic, and Islamic. They all gather in this godly decorated temple on nine different steps four times a day for service. It was bazzar to say the least.
After that we drove by the alley in which the famous "burning girl" was photographed. Lunch at some random place was next and I made friends with a guy from Toronto and we just laughed at the organized chaos.
On to Cu Chi where we watched a film on how the VC used incrediable tactics to win what they dub the "American War". We walked around the forrest where most of the war took place in the south. The rain poured down and all I could think about (instead of the bullshit war) was Forrest Gump talking about the rain coming down in big drops, sideway rain, and rain coming straight up.
"Gump, get in the hole!"
"Yes sir!"
We saw the booby traps and how they were constructed. And then came the fun part. We could shot a gun and I am not talking about the guns I shot grown up, big boy guns. I was the first to sign up and choose the AK47. Talk about a rush!
After I couldn't heard a damn thing but my adreline was pumping we crawled through a 100 meter tunnel. Most people could squat and gave up and went out the short cuts, I crawled on my hands and knees till the end. It was awesome.
We ended with "big party at long table with tapicoa and tea". I was expecting pudding but instead we ate potato like something with crushed peanuts and washed it down with a sip of tea.

saigon

2009-05-08T01:37:00.002-04:00

I beginning to feel like a true traveler, a true backpacker even. I was the expert on the bus last night and had the routine down to a science. I stopped drinking water an hour and a half prior. My longshelve tee shirt and pashmina was the perfet warmth, my bag was locked into place, my water from a hook next to me, one newly purchased Valium and I woke up 30 minutes prior to arriving in Saigon. I was refreshed and ready to find the hotel recomended to me from travelers going the other way. I offered my suggestions to them in return. After assuring my room was clean and I would only be charged for one night, my guard came down. A three hour nap was a bit of a time waster, but long over due. Some info from the westerners in the lobby as sent me on my way to the backpackers road to book a tour.
I stopped and ate street food and it was one of the best things I ever had.
This day is devoted to wandering about, it will take a bit to get my barrings but nothing to commit to, no time restraints for today, just me and the city of motorbikes.

vietnam day 7

2009-05-06T21:00:00.002-04:00

After meeting my friends for a farewell beer, I waited for the next bus ride and tried to infultrate the group of Brits. They were pleasant and good to chat with but went there separate ways once we arrive in Nah Trang.
This sleeper bus was nicer than the last. More leg room, the seat sat up as well as reclined, they didn't play Vietnamase music videos at all hours, nor did we pick up thirty other people who laid on the floor. Also my bag managed to get off this one instead of me chasing down the bus via motorbike. The draw back to this one was the lav was locked. I peed at the first stop and it was the grossest toliet I have every been in. I took a small sip of water to gratefully down the Valium Mike gave me and crashed out until 0500. The bus ride was super bumpy and there were times I felt the bus was going to either crash into something or tip over. Looking back, I might be able to contribute this to the drug but I did awake with my seatbelt on.

So here I am on the South China Beach. I have yet to make it over there but it looks nice. My twelve hours here will just be spent wandering around. Breakfast is on the agenda as well as one of those iced coffees.

vietnam (lost track of the days)

2009-05-06T03:02:00.003-04:00

My day has been good, I awoke at 730 and wandered about. My breakfast was an iced coffee and lemon pancake. I wrote postcards while soaking up the warmth of the morning. After my tailor shop opened I followed my tempation to be adventurous and rented a motorbike.
I explained to the guy that it was my first time so he gave me a quick lesson in stop and go. I guess that is all you really need. I made a turn into old town where the streets were quieter so I could get a feel for the bike and was whistled at by a police officer. Motorbikes were not allowed. He came and turned off my engine. I stared walking the bike back to a main rode but was unable to move the bike. Luckily a westerner came up and helped me put the bike in neutral. A couple of blocks later I climbed on the bike and started fumbling around trying to turn it on. I saw another western couple so I asked for the guys assistance. Moments later the bike was running and I was being my journey around the town. I stopped for a liter of gas and the attendant must have figured out that I was an novice so he started the bike for me as well. After that I was set and quickly had the bike in high gear driving along the China Sea. I drove and drove stopping only for a quick water break and to take photos. I rewarded myself with a job well done in mastering the machine with a thai massage.
Getting ready to make one last loop around the town before taking a shower and meeting my new friends for a farewell drink. The bus to Nha Trang leaves at 1800. Twelve hours in a bus, hoepfully I have worn myself out for sleep the whole time.

vietnam day four...i think

2009-05-05T00:31:00.002-04:00

After finding four great travel companions, we have made our way to Hoi An. The fourteen hour bus ride to Hue was comical to say the least. Greatfully I had to moved to a top bed in need of more leg room. I did get various hands on me during the night as people made their way to the toliet over the obstacle course of people laying on the ground. On my way back from the neighboring toliet, I was replacing my shoes back into the given plastic back when the co-pilot shook his finger at my shoes and then slapped me in the leg.
My new mates (3 Irish and 1 Canook) wandered around the city of Hue and found nothing to see other than the Perfume River...we smelled it rather. We decided a beer was more in order so we sat at an air con'd cafe and enjoyed the local beer for eighty cents.
Back on the bus for another four hour trek and we grabbed road soda. The Canadian and I sat together and giggled the whole time. We were very happy when the bus made two more stops because we had to pee and this also enabled us to get more beer. The journey was over in no time and ended at a quaint hotel here in Hoi An.
I am sharing a room with Brian and Kristi. We played rock, paper, scissors for the shower and I won much to the joy of my very soiled body and probably anyone I had been in contact with lately.
We met up for dinner and had a traditional dish from Hoi An called "white rose". Amazing!!! I followed with a Vietnamase pancake of shrimp and all sorts of goodness. Wine and great conversation added to the evening. Then we headed off to a place called Cargo and stayed until last call. Then moved on via motorbike to a bar in which you could write on the walls. We ended up dancing until they closed and then attempted to move on to another spot. Brian and I's motorbike ran out of gas, so the girls went ahead and we wandered the streets until we found home.

Today has been a nice day walking around the gorgeous beach town. I snapped some shots and found the bar which our graffetti marked our presence. Another fanstatic meal preceeded getting fitted for a custom made dress. I am trying really hard not to walk into the custom shoe shops because I need a new pair of shoes like I need a hole in the head.

Hoping to talk my still sleeping buds into renting a bicyle and going to the beach. Did I mention life was good?

dog or cat?

2009-05-04T02:44:00.002-04:00

I walked into the backpacker storage room to the smell of old moldy towels, and stinky feet. It was overwhelming and I searched for a space as fast as possible. Another guy, tall and unwavered by the smell quickly found a space. I asked him what he was doing that day. He replied going to a mosalium and asked if I would like to join. So off we went on the back of two motorbikes cleverly negotiated by Martin. The line snaked on for a half a mile and we stood in the sun being ushered along by armed guards. We were instructed to store our bags, and then 300 meters later, our cameras as well. Within no time were lined up in two lines walking along a red mat. Up the stairs into a square building with pillars, and around the corner. We walked the three sides of a square around the body of Ho Chi Ming. We walked the rest of the property before gathering our belongings and resting with an iced coffee. We chatted away about where we were from, where we had been, and where we were going. Next we hired a cyclo and went to the temple of literature. Nothing exciting but the pho lunch which followed was quite grand. Since he was not sick of me yet we walked the streets of Hanoi stopping in DVD stores, the post office, and on the corner for a fruit shake. We sat with the locals on tiny plastic stools and sipped away. On the way back to the hostel for happy hour we stopped by the lake. A Vietnamase guy came up and wanted to practice his english.
We talked about Britney Spears, the color of his motorbike, what he did for a living, and asked him to help me with my Vietnamase.
We started talking about eating dog and cat. I told him that was something I could not do. I will try a lot of things but that is not. He told me not to worry as my dog was far away.

vietnam day 2 thus far

2009-05-02T21:36:00.000-04:00

I felt my age last night when after two beers and a dice drinking game, I had to call it quits and hit the hay. I was in bed asleep by 2030, awoken several times by the nine other girls I was sharing a room didn't bother me as I fell right back to sleep. I got up with the slew of them and went downstairs for breakfast which consisted of a roll, ramen noodles, and coffee from concentrate. I am not complaining because it was free and it shouldn't send me running to the toilet.
I am spending my day in Hanoi going to look at some temples before departing on a bus tonight southbound. The first stop will be Hue fourteen hours from departure. So, I will be sleeping on a bus tonight....better than a van down by the river.

vietnam day 1

2009-05-02T03:10:00.002-04:00

I have only been in Hanoi for 14 hours and the struggles, emotions, and exhaustion which has been experienced makes me feel like I have spent a month here.
The five hour flight from NRT was restless to say the least, my body begged for sleep but could not find a comfortable space. The man next to me was unamused with my tossing around. A man with a paper sign was waiting for me as I book two nights at a hotel recommended in Lonely Planet. I left with him for the 45 minute drive into the city. When we got to the hotel, the lady tried to charge me $25/night and when I showed her my book she changed it to $18 the highest price and told me that I had to stay at another hotel. A guy would take me on his motorbike. I used the internet prior to departing to find my travel partner decided to stay in Laos rather than accompaning my through the country of Vietnam. I decided I had enough of this bullshit and told the woman that she could not take advange of me just because I was an American. We argued back and forth and finally I told her to give me my money back and that I was going to inform Lonely Planet of this scheme of theirs. I stormed off into the unknown streets of the Old Quarter of Hanoi at 11:00 pm. I flagged down a taxi and asked him to take me to the Sofitel which I saw coming in. I was furious and all I wanted was a shower and a clean bed. I got to the hotel and got a room, mind you the room cost as much as my roundtrip ticket from Japan. I didn't care, I had my pride. Sidenote: this was one of the nicest rooms I have ever stayed in. I stood in the shower for 20 minutes still realing about the past hour's events.

I awoke to wonder not only where I was at, but why. Did I have to get up for anything? Am I on a layover? What country am I in? What time is it?
I went downstairs to have the breakfast included in my room price (specifically asked when reserving) and enjoyed a gorgeous buffet of every food you could imagine. Let me tell you about the coffee here, it will get you going. I had read about a coffee they feed the beans to a lima or something and then they take them from there shit, clean them and then brew them. I was hoping that was not the kicked in part of the caffine.

I finish my breakfast and begin my day. As I was exiting the restaurant I was asked to sign something. They were trying to charge me for breakfast. Ah, hell no! So I argued with them and then the front desk. And then it occured to me as I was watching interaction...it's because I am a woman. I did not pay for the breakfast mind you.

A few hours of wondering around my hotel, and I was not impressed. I was walking through filth, every street looked the same. I wondered what my next move was, how I could get out of here, and where I should go.

I still don't know the answers but now have a bed for $7.50 at a hostel a better sense of being, and my strength as wonder woman as Turiya likes to call me.

only have a 100 yen, so this has to be fast

2009-05-01T03:37:00.002-04:00

So I landed in NRT to be met by the health officals. They came on the plan with head to toe haz/mat suits. One was rushing around taking what first appeared to be photos but turned out to be a video of every single passanger. He was not shy about getting right up to you either. Good thing I just applied lipstick. Others were rushing around the plane collecting forms. Mandatory forms from each passanger asking where they have been for the past ten days and where they will be for the following ten. After the business first section was released we were handed a form about going to a clinic if we felt ill and our own personal mask.
I love this country, they don't mess around with shit!

Carol, you will be happy to know that now I have two masks because I stumbled across one in a first aid kit and threw it in to my backpack for good measure.

Awaiting my flight to Hanoi now and can't wait to get on that plane and sleep. Vietnam when I awake.

why int'l airfare should not go below $300

2009-04-23T01:46:00.003-04:00

Walking down the aisle at the very end of an exhausting leg to Dublin. I am stopped by a call light three rows ahead of me. I approach the seat with an exhausted look as if I was not going to walk by anyway, "yes?"
"I have a question about this paper."
"Your landing document?"
"Hmm, it says nationality and uhm, what does that mean?"
Blank look, I am trying to collect my thoughts of why she is such an idiot.
"Do they want to know my background?"
"What?!" "Well, ma'am let me ask you this...were you born in the United States?"
"Hmm, yeah"
"Do you have an American passport"
"Yeah"
"Do you have dual citizenship with any other country"
"Don't think so"
"Have you renounced your citizenship to an embassy or consulate of the United States of America?"
Completely lost look.
I clapped my hands like I was talking to a 3 year old and said, "Guess what? You're an American!!!"

time passing

2009-04-22T18:15:00.000-04:00

the lack of writing is not the lack of thought,

sadly, it is the lack of time

sent to me during a previous struggle to stay

2009-04-22T18:13:00.002-04:00

I am a New Yorker
I do not live in the five boroughs or on the Island or Upstate
I may live hundreds or thousands of miles away
Or I may live just over the GW Bridge
But I am a New Yorker

I am a New Yorker
Whatever took me out of New York:
Business, family or hating the cold
did not take New York out of me.
My accent may have faded and my pace may have slowed
But I am a New Yorker

I am a New Yorker
I was raised on Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and Rockefeller Plaza,
The Yankees or the Mets (Giants or Dodgers)
Jones Beach, Rye Beach, Orchard Beach or one of the beaches on the sound
I know that 'THE END' means Montauk.
Because I am a New Yorker

I am a New Yorker
When I go on vacation, I never look up
Skyscrapers are something I take for granted
The Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty are part of me
Taxis and noise and subways and 'get outa heah' don't rattle me
Because I am a New Yorker

I am a New Yorker
I was raised on cultural diversity before it was politically correct
I eat Greek food and Italian food,
Jewish and Middle Eastern food and Chinese food
Because they are all American food to me.
I don't get mad when people speak other languages in my presence
Because my relatives got to this country via Ellis Island and chose to stay

They were New Yorkers

People who have never been to New York have misunderstood me
My friends and family work in the industries, professions and businesses that benefit all Americans
My firefighters died trying to save New Yorkers and non-New Yorkers
They died trying to save Americans and non-American cans
Because they were New Yorkers.

I am a New Yorker
I feel the pain of my fellow New Yorkers
I mourn the loss of my beautiful city
I feel and dread that New York will never be the same But then I remember:
I am a New Yorker

And New Yorkers have:
Tenacity, strength and courage way above the norm
Compassion and caring for our fellow citizens
Love and pride in our city, in our state, in our country
Intelligence, experience and education par excellence
Ability, dedication and energy above and be yond
Faith--no matter what religion we practice
Terrorists hit America in its heart
But America's heart still beats strong
Demolish the steel in our buildings,
but it doesn't touch the steel in our souls
Hit us in the pocketbook;
but we'll parlay what we have left into a fortune
End innocent lives leaving widows and orphans,
but we'll take care of them
Because they are New Yorkers

Wherever we live, whatever we do, whoever we are
There are New Yorkers in every state and every city of this nation
We will not abandon our city
We will not abandon our brothers and sisters
We will not abandon the beauty,
creativity and diversity that New York represents
Because we are New Yorkers
And we are proud to be New Yorkers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only those that grew up or lived in NYC can understand the meaning of this:

THERE IS NO NORTH AND SOUTH. IT'S 'UPTOWN' OR 'DOWNTOWN.' IF YOU'RE REALLY F ROM NEW YORK , YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONCEPT OF WHERE NORTH AND SOUTH ARE...AND EAST OR WEST IS 'CROSS-TOWN.'

YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE AN EGG CREAM.

YOU RIDE IN A SUBWAY CAR WITH NO AIR CONDITIONING JUST BECAUSE THERE ARE SEATS AVAILABLE.

YOU KNOW WHAT A 'REGULAR' COFFEE IS.

YOU MOVE 3,000 MILES AWAY, SPEND 10 YEARS LEARNING THE LOCAL LANGUAGE AND PEOPLE STILL KNOW YOU'RE FROM BROOKLYN, LONG ISLAND, Staten Island (the other "Island)" OR "THE BRONX", THE MINUTE YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH.

YOU RETURN AFTER 10 YEARS AND THE FIRST FOODS YOU WANT ARE A 'REAL' PIZZA AND A 'REAL' BAGEL.

A 500 SQUARE FOOT APARTMENT IS LARGE.

YOU WOULDN'T BOTHER ORDERING PIZZA IN ANY OTHER CITY.

YOU'RE NOT THE LEAST BIT INTERESTED IN GOING TO TIMES SQUARE ON NEW YEAR'S EVE.

YOUR INTERNAL CLOCK IS PERMANENTLY SET TO KNOW WHEN ALTERNATE SIDE OF THE STREET PARKING REGULATIONS IS IN EFFECT.

YOU KNOW WHAT A BODEGA IS.

SOMEONE BUMPS INTO YOU AND YOU CHECK FOR YOUR WALLET.

YOU DON'T EVEN NOTICE THE LADY WALKING DOWN THE ROAD HAVING A PERFECTLY NORMAL CONVERSATION WITH HERSELF.

YOU PAY 'ONLY' $230 A MONTH TO PARK YOUR CAR.

YOU CRINGE A T HEARING PEOPLE PRONOUNCE HOUSTON ST. LIKE THE CITY IN TEXAS .

THE PRESIDENTIAL VISIT IS A MAJOR TRAFFIC JAM, NOT AN HONOR.

THAT'S NEW YORK , BABY! YA GOTTA LOVE IT

that's my day...

2009-04-11T22:08:00.002-04:00

Friday night knowing I had to work a serving shift the next day entailed me taking it easy at home. I hate working when I am tired or hungover. I was in my room hanging out when I had to go to the bathroom. I crossed paths with my roommate who asked what I was doing that evening. I made something up quickly as I glanced and saw a large piece of meat on the stove. He proceeded to tell me about this girl who was coming over. I told him I would be more than happy to get out of his way for a bit. So I got dressed and headed to my old watering hole, now a subway, cross town bus, and 14 blocks away, for a cold one.
I came home around 0100 to find a girl on the couch. She introduced herself as Jenny and told me that Jase had gone to pick up her friend from the corner. I wanted no part of any of this and I washed my face and went to bed. I awoke an hour later to voices outside my bedroom door and then again at 0600 to another conversation. I heard a girl leave and fell back to sleep until 1000. When I left the house at 1100, there was still a girls purse there. How is he having three-somes when I can't even get a date?

My day at work started with a bum harassing me to the point of yelling at him on the A then waiting on the 58th street platform for the D and then walking through Bryant Park for the 7 and then walking 11 blocks in the rain. All while feeling like I was going to toss my cookies. I arrive at work and it was dead. Then I got an 11 top with a bitch of all bitch demanding things before I could even start them. Then other cool table that stayed forever. The guy asked me out and it was kind of creepy because when I told him I was seeing someone, he asked if I was sure. Sure about what? When I went to pick up the check after they left, I found they had left me the wrong credit card copy and I was out a tip. A three top was next and they were super nice. Then came the table from hell. It just won't stop and the kids meals were comped, this was wrong, that was wrong, we want this, what about this, yadda, yadda. I added gratuity because I knew they would chip me otherwise and after running up and down the stair five hundred times, having my manager fix the check for fuck-ups and "I didn't like this". I was left with a $16 tip which I added on. To side note this whole debacle, this old lady and her dog were a part of the group. Picture the old warped lady from Something About Mary. This loony bin was feeding her dog, the one who looked like a yarned rug with two eyes, bits of something and then some ice cream. Table from hell!!!!! The next two tables were awesome and the fact that one found a piece of plastic in his rib was not my fault. The last table had 2 ice creams and a cake for a birthday and on my way to serve then, some bitch bumped me and broke the plate and spilled the ice cream everywhere. I would walk up to the managers and they would start laughing. Now what?

Really? Did all of this really happen to one person in one day?

twitter

2009-04-10T00:12:00.001-04:00

you can now follow me on twitter.....

www.twitter.com/*onthego

* = my first name

should i stay or should i go now?

2009-04-09T23:45:00.002-04:00

The question is this: Stay or go?
The winter has been very long, the grey skies and unknowingness of today or tomorrow made the decision to return to Oregon an easy one. But now spring is around the corner, flights are back, serving shifts and dog walking have all resumed to normal. I walk around the park or the city daily, the pounds are coming off, and well, there is a sense of renewel. I was walking through Central Park today taking photographs and thinking. Do I want to throw in the towel? How can I make this work while living in Portland? Should I stay because I am fortunate to have three jobs while I hear about other being laid off right and left. The questions always boil down to money, why does it control our life so? I am looking for signs to what I should do. I keep seeing dogs everywhere. The big thing that I don't want to happen is to leave and regret "giving up". But at the end of the day, I sit here alone even though I have NYC right here, outside the door, I sit here.
I know I am going to be ok when I move home. Friends are the key and to have a home, an organized home is what my heart and mind need. I know what I need to do, I know where my heart lies. Just need to end this affair with New York soon and return.

hkg trip 2

2009-04-09T23:31:00.003-04:00

The flakiness of crews just kills me. I was excited to hang out with someone this time in Hong Kong not only because I would have someone obligated to take my photo but it's also nice to pal around with people. I had many misconnections and only ended up going to breakfast and dinner with the speakers.
I didn't leave the Kowloon side this time and just wandered around on the metro. I went up to a temple and walked around prior to having my palm read. The ancient Chinese lady told me in her best English the following:
I am a very strong lady
I am very lucky
My luck will run out when I am 38
I will bring my future husband very good luck
I need to stop giving 110% to my career and save 40% for love
I need to let love into my life
Stop worrying about what people say about me ("sweet talk" she called it)
Over and over again she told me I was very strong lady, I felt like I was in therapy
It always amazes me the consistancy in getting my palm read or my future told because they always seem to nail it on the head.
There was a time in Paris (my first trip) where Turiya and I had gone into an Aussie pub after a day of shopping. There was a guy a couple of bar stools away who was messign with a deck of cards. They appeared to be tarrot cards after closer inspection. The barternder finally went up to the man and asked what was up. He proceeded to read her future and she ran off all freaked out. I told him I would bite.
He asked me if I was right or left handed and then he asked me what my question was. I asked him if my life would continue to be good.
After many cards turned over he told me these things:
I would buy a house
Co-workers would turn against me
And that I have a good heart and it will be challanged
After the reading, I thanked him and walked back to my beer. He touched my hand and told me to ask the question I really wanted answered. I was shocked but I asked him, will I find love soon. The answer was no.
All of these things happened in the following year and it wasn't until I was reflecting that I thought about him and his words in the middle of Paris.

on the plane across the north pole

2009-04-08T16:48:00.000-04:00

I write for the first time ever while working on the plane. The window of door 1L is open to keep my mind fooled into it still being daytime. The sun reflecting from the glaciers below and the fact my watch stopped a week ago seem to have the upper hand. I glance in amazement to the frozen earth below. There are cracks that seem like silvers in ice cubes but really from 35,000 feet above, I imagine the glaciers are gigantic.
I was on my way to LHR will little enthusiasm except for working first class aisle and getting some pages in my passport. The rest was the same old, same old story. I even purposely decided not to take my nice camera, as I didn’t even want to photography London that is how much I am not a fan. I got to work early, checked in and ate my usual salad. I was standing in line at the duty desk to purchase a bottle of water at the same time there was a panic about a flight. I heard something pulling people from LHR; I raised my hand enthusiastically even though I had no clue where I was to be sent. Anything is better than London. “Do you have a Chinese visa?” Yes. “Ok you are going to Hong Kong.”
So off I went to gate 90 with 3 other people. The flight was going to be longer than a required duty day and some of the crew wanted off. Fine by me, I’ll take another trip to HKG. This time I will see it without a hangover. I am going to go shopping this time and check out Kowloon.
As for the flight, sadly I am the only one who knows what is going on the first class department. The ISM, god bless her is nice but doesn’t know what her role is. The galley lady even though she had two extra hours on the ground (mechanical) still is not prepped and the other aisle guy, first time on an international flight, the 777, and in first class. God help us, rather (me)! The other crewmembers came up to help and they were all with him and let me be. What else? Oh, and some how on the 2nd most senior flight we have in the system, I managed to get a choice of crew breaks. I choose the coveted second break. Since we have to stay close to airports due to the mechanical issue, our flight is now 16.5 hours but our rest time is 5 hours. Looking forward to my nap because sitting up here in this galley all alone is boring. I brushed my teeth so I would cease with the snacking and there is still an hour and forty-five until the first crew gets up.
I think I realized why I haven’t written on the plane prior, other than the idea of lack of time. This shit is boring. End of the day, I am in recycled air talking to a bunch of people I would normally never hang out with, eating crap just because it is there, and wondering if this the so called glamorous life.

one of those...

2009-04-03T16:35:00.006-04:00

...days.
My Friday isn't complicated, it only holds the obligation of three dog walks. The rest is stuff I would like to get done.
I was awoken around 0145 by my roommate yelling at the dogs and then singning to them. I think (hope) he was drunk by who knows. I got up to go the bathroom and gave him the evil eye. Luckily I was able to go back to sleep and I set the alarm for 1100 just in case. Turns out I needed it. I woke up and had to pee like a mother and he was in the bathroom. Damn it!
A quick shower and some cleaning of the room preceded my jont to the post office. I looked outside at the drizzle and thought I could brave it. The post office was the usually joke so I cut my losses and drug the package and some chips downtown. Well the rain started dumping at this point. I sat with my wet everything on the subway for the 30 minute journey and then walked the half mile to meet Beth and get the keys. I purchased an umbrella at the Gap, which took forever, to help shield me from the monsoon.
The first dog was easy but just wanted to stay on one block so we walked up and down. I headed to the next post office and with more time on my hands actually enjoyed the amusement that was idiots sending packages. The puggs were next and someone was at the house which always throws me off. I took dwidle dee and dwidle dumb out to the park.
I stopped to grab some water and an apple and found that I only had $3 dollars which doesn't buy both her in NYC so I got flustered and only bought the apple. Then I went into DR and bought water on my debit card. It wasn't until I was a block away I figured out I didn't have my umbrella. I went back to both places and of course, it wasn't there.
Now I have an hour to kill until my next walk and I have a dime to my name and came down to print out my taxes. All I want to do is go home and curl up in bed.
And now I just got invited to the Yankees season opener and can I make it? Don't think so because I have this dog to walk, I look like hell, and oh yeah I live a billion blocks away from here and from Yankee stadium.
WTH?

note from writer: got someone to cover the last pooch.....made it to the game right in time for the SPB and first pitch!

dca

2009-04-03T16:35:00.005-04:00

coming soon, not in the mood right now...

DC was fantastic!! Love the city and was so blessed to be there during the cherry blossom festival. The 97th annual festival to be more specific. I flew down first thing in the morning and set off to see the sights. I started with the Lincoln Memorial and went onto the Korean and WWII Memorials. Each were very emotional as my dad fought in both wars. I was disappointed to find that names of the WWII vets were only computerized, I had an image of them carved into a wall. While I was walking from one war memorial to the next, a group of WWII men were making there way to the memorial, it was too much to think about and I begged the information desk for tissues. Aside from that the memorial is gorgeous. The next stop was the Washington Monument and then onto the Cherry Blossoms. There are 2000 trees around the Tidal Basin, it feels like I photographed 1/4 of them! There was a place to rent paddle boats so my backpack and I did so. Not too much fun alone, going around in circles. I continued with traditional Japanese lunch served by large black women.
My camera battery called it quits before I did so I had to stop and recharge my batteries, literally and figuratively at the nearest Starbucks.
On to the White House back and front, along with Lafayette Park. I walked and walked some more into town and found the damn Hard Rock Cafe for Minda and got her shot glass. I also saw the Ford theatre as well as the house in which Lincoln died across the street. Did they drag him over there or what?
Finally it was time to get on the train out to Springfield. Mama Maeyer came and picked me up and took me back to their house in Virgina. It was so nice to be in a real home. Dinner was fantastic as well as chit chatting with the family. I had my own room and bathroom and went to bed completely exhausted around 2200. I woke up in the middle of the night coughing and remembered I saw cough syrup in the medicine cabinet. I think it is just habit to open one up if it's there in front of you. So I went to the bathroom and then opened it up. I didn't want to turn on the light because it messes with your sleep pattern but after spilling half the bottle on the floor, I was forced to turn on the light and clean it up. Red NyQuil everywhere, great house guest I am!
In the morning I was fed french toast with bacon and fresh berries. I told Mama Maeyer I was just going to stay and live with them! She dropped me off at the "Kiss and Park" and I was on my way back to DC. My first stop was the Arlington cemetery where I watched the changing of the guard at the tomb of the unknown solider. It was heartbreaking to see all the headstones of people who died in wars. It was interesting however to read some of the large ones. Some mucky-mucks have places for there first and second wives. Back on the train down to the museums, I walked and walked stopping in a few, wandering through the sculpture park and eating a hot dog. I finally made it to the air and space museum where I spent hours looking at air stuff and stewardess rooms. After that I made it to the capitol and then onto lunch. I treated myself to a gorgeous salad at the Chophouse as well as Cherry Blossom beer (so good). After that a red velvet cupcake and back to the airport.
Awesome trip!!

sure, i'll go

2009-03-30T19:24:00.002-04:00

I was called in for airport alert on Sunday and was a little surprised they were calling me as I was only good for two days and had broke my guarantee with the moron trip I just arrived home from. I gladly got ready and left a) because they were actually paying me to sit at the airport and b) it was Sunday which means my idiot roommate was home with his yapping dogs.
I sat down with my salad and chit chatted away with friends also warming the couch. The phone was ringing off the hook due to weather delays and so forth so I mentally prepared myself for a trip. One of the guys from the duty desk came over and asked if I would be the purser to Dublin. Sure, what the hell?
I got to the aircraft and had to lay down the law that I knew what I was doing and was just a little frazzled because I ran across the airport. You don't have to tell me where I work, thank you. I went about my business of getting the cabin ready and we are short a flight attendant so I deal with that. Finally we get customers boarded and we push back. Ok, easy flight coming up. That is until we are stopped on the runway because lighting is striking all around us. For three and half hours we sat on the tarmac, moved the plane once to get out of the way of some guy having a heart attack on the plane behind us, literally. The communication skills of the captain left a lot to be desired so me as the leader of the back had to dictate our service and make up stories to keep the customers happy.
All in all we were on the plane for almost 10 hours and couldn't be happier to see the amazing beds of our hotel in Dublin. Gotta love the Irish because they roll with the punches. If that would have been a plane full of Americans, there would have been an uprising.

office away

2009-03-30T19:19:00.002-04:00

There is something about sitting at a desk with a computer, notepad, pen, and a cup of tea. I feel...well, like a grown up I suppose. I did the list of things that I should haven completed weeks ago in a matter of a couple hours. When I am at home, I sit on my bed or on the floor with my computer and dink around. I spend hours on facebook and my company site when I should be paying bills and finishing up my taxes. I can't hold a thought when I am not sitting up right and then my leg falls asleep and then I am hungry. It is a slippery slope into depression I tell ya. I think it is maybe why I was so off kilter this winter. I never had a layover to sit at the desk with free internet all alone and get stuff done. But the spring is here gratefully, the flights are increasing and I will have a paycheck, a real paycheck for my efforts this month. It's nice to feel like a grown up again.

i can’t escape stupidity

2009-03-28T04:02:00.002-04:00

I was assigned BFS today while out walking Willy. It was the day after my birthday and while not hung-over, I was still tired from the evening prior. The scheduler told me I would be working with a Cleveland crew, and my immediate response was, “so I will be doing most of the work then?” Little did I know that the rumors were true.

I got the airport in time to eat my salad and then make my way to the gate. I sat there for at least 20 minutes before I went and asked the agent what was going on. She knew nothing so I went down to hang out on the plane and at least do my pre flight checks. The captain came down, some dike that had no clue about anything and didn’t seem to care that I was the only crewmember there. The FO came down and he was from Houston, so he was immediately written off first from his origin and then his bitching about being on the 757. I sat on the plane for an hour before these old biddies showed up, and did they seem to care, nope couldn’t give a damn about getting the plane off the gate anytime soon. Nor did these idiots acknowledge that I sat up there galleys for them.
The next six hours went something like that with their complete lack of understanding of international service. I schooled them in the aisle because I wanted to the shit done and get our customers to sleep. I choose the back galley to hang out in since there was no place to go to get away from the gossip about everyone in their base (using full names) and the small town mentality. I couldn’t escape to the pit either but of the lack of intelligence up there as well.
By the time we made it to the hotel and had to wait an hour for our rooms, I had had it. I am not looking forward to the chaos which will be tomorrow.

sweet sixteen, only double the age

2009-03-28T04:02:00.001-04:00

The evening prior poured into the night as I decided to pick up a serving shift. I shared a cab home with Betsy and made it to bed around 0230. While jotting out my day I planned to sleep in, as sleep is one of my favorite things these days. I think it is a sign I am getting old! I drank some tea jacked off my HKG flight and mossied about getting ready. Finally I descended downstairs to get my hair done. I figured my best bet would be to take the subway down to around 81st Street and then find a salon on Columbus or Amsterdam. Even though there are salons in my neighborhood, I wasn’t feeling up to experimenting. I walked north for seven blocks and didn’t see anything other than restaurants and bodegas. Finally I spotted a Cozy Cuts for Kids and popped in to see if they had a recommendation for an adult salon in the area. The gay boy asked me what I needed; I said just a blow out. “We do that here!” he said a little too excited. “Really, I am an adult (I pretended)”. So under the precedence of getting a good story out of this, I followed him back. Maria was the lady who helped me and who had to remove the boosters out of the shampoo chair before I could sit down and get my hair washed with grape shampoo. I followed her to her chair next to the jeep chair where she once again had to remove extra cushions. I am feeling like a real jackass at this point. So here I sit as she blow-dries my hair looking at all the toys and watching a two year old next to me in the jeep chair getting his hair cut. He is quite but you can tell he is totally not into it. When I go to pay they ask me the name of my child.
Thankfully it is a gorgeous spring day with no forecast for rain, just a bit of wind. I walk over to Broadway and have some lunch and then find a place for a manicure. I made it back home at 1601 and just missed picking up a trip. Instead I hopped in the shower and got ready. Then the pink, fabulous party dress was ready for me, I slipped it on and twirled around for a bit. My first stop was the Oak Bar at The Plaza so I jumped on the subway and after a couple wrong stop choices made my way to the bar. I sat up at the bar and took in the gorgeous room with all of its history and struck up a few conversations over my one cocktail. When I asked the way to the ladies room I was instructed to follow one of the ZZ Top boys downstairs.
Next stop was 21 Club, it’s that place on 52nd with all the little jockey statues outside. I have always wanted to go there and thought tonight would be ideal. They sat me next to a couple and we struck up a conversation after me having to explain why I was dining alone. David and Wendy were from Long Island and so sweet. They were out celebrating her birthday as well. I dined on mixed greens, delightful red snapper and treated myself to a soufflé with berries. I have never had a soufflé; it was good but tasted a little like corn bread to me. I was able to make a wish this year. Graciously the couple bought me dinner, it was so sweet and I hope to pay it forward some day.
The next stop was the Hudson Bar at the Hudson Hotel. I had been there a couple of times prior and since it was right around the corner, it seemed like a good spot to ask friends to meet up for a drink. I invited my NY girls, Beth, Carrie, and Lauren and much to my delight they all showed up and got along famously. My friend Paul from the couv also joined us later on.
We hit Tao next as it was close as well and stayed for one drink while chatting away. It was the nice mellow evening I had in mind. Good friends, great food, and fantastic cocktails.
After our exit, it was down to Lauren and I and we just had to give each other the look to know we were headed to Cafeteria. I asked for my friend Paul and sat in his section. We ordered the usual and made friends with the party next door who was also having a birthday. Paul then brought out deep friend Oreos and a candle. A wish for my arteries not to get clogged was in order but I repeated the previous wish just to make sure the universe got it.

HKG...to be cont..

2009-03-28T04:01:00.001-04:00

Airport alert at 1345 is an odd thing for us reserves but I was just grateful that it wasn’t 0800. I got my routine salad at the Metro Café near Port Authority and came to the crew room in time to check in and have lunch. I was there for maybe 15 minutes when the phone rang for me and I was rushing off to gate 121, Hong Kong bound.

lucky trip

2009-03-22T06:38:00.002-04:00

I just got back to the cowloon side of Hong Kong and stopped by an internet cafe to assure Carol I was still alive. I was waiting for a computer to be assigned and secretly wished for my lucky number 23. They gave me computer 23 without me saying a word...totally trippy.

st patty's day 09

2009-03-18T21:30:00.002-04:00

Thank goodness for scheduling not using Lauren yesterday so I could have some one to pal around with. I finally chose my St Patty's day outfit and set off on the C. I arrived at her house to get greeting with an Irish coffee as she got ready. I told her about a party I was invited to on 5th Ave so we walked across the park to soak up the gorgeous spring day. The parade was still going strong after four hours so we stopped to check it out and then dashed across. The invite was given by my friend and fellow co-worker Jimmy Joe. He is not from the south as you might suspect, rather from Jersey. He told me his parents had a place on 67th and 5th and I should stop by for some Irish grub. We got to the corner to find four buildings. We walked up to the first and asked about a party and they said no. The next building informed up that Jimmy Joe did live there but was in South Carolina. Weird since I just saw him the night prior. So we went back to the parade and tried to call. The doorman came and got us a few minutes later and led us to the apartment. We walked in and found my friend Jimmy Joe, his girlfriend and his family. His mom, dad, uncles, grandma...the whole crew was there celebrating their hertiage. I was a bit shocked but fell right into it as they feed and watered us. Great corn beef and cabbage on rye.."How New York am I?" I asked. They sat around telling stories much to my delight and the girlfriends dismay. I love this kind of stuff. It was time to go when the uncle tried to recruit Lauren and I into being engineers and offered to take us to some underground tunnel next week.
Our next stop was Doc Watson's, an Irish pub on 2nd Ave. We worked our way in and ordered a couple of Guinness. It wasn't long before a heard of firemen made their way over and put there caps on our heads. We chatted and laughed and at 1815 I looked at my watch to note the time of my first feel up for the evening. What can I say, he bought me a Guinness!
The next stop was dinner at my favorite Thai place before heading to Brother jimmy's. All of my favorite bartenders were working so it goes without saying we got very drunk very cheap!
Grilled cheese at Gracie Meows finished our evening around midnight. All in all a great St Patty's Day here in Irish heaven to the left of the Atlantic!

cheese

2009-03-18T21:07:00.003-04:00

"How was it?"
"It was fantastic!"
"Not the cheese! Vermont"
"Oh!" followed by minutes of hysterical laughing
"I need to get some good cheese!"
Followed by even more giggling.

404

2009-03-15T22:21:00.002-04:00

I miss my old apartment on the UES. The thought has occurred to me quite a bit lately, even to Carol as she mentioned that I should have stayed. I should have, I had everything set up, I knew how to function effectively in the neighborhood, I lived alone, and I had George. The trouble was the cost, the rent was more than I could handle alone and thus why my place and I had to part ways. I had no idea of this economic down turn that was to come or I might have been able to nogiciate a lower lease. I move to Brooklyn in a desprit panic to stay and survive in NYC. Three months later I moved here in a desprite move to survive my self. Here I am, wishing I was sitting in my black chair with my window open to my fire escape. The sounds filling my ears would be that of traffic on the East side. Sure it was louder, the sirens more frequent but it was the sounds of the city. This summer when I would stay with Chris I would beg him to open the window so I could hear it. He thought I was crazy. Here I hear the occassional horn honk and the cars passing by but there is something missing. I would trade this brand new elevator, door man bulding with laundry and a gym for a four story walk up any day. We learn only by living and we live for what we hope will happen. I am glad George is in a good home, she deserves the stability of a mom who is not jet setting all over the world. I miss her. As for me, I wonder if the pull towards real home would be as strong if I was back at 404.

b & b

2009-03-14T21:40:00.003-04:00

I am staying at my first ever Bed and Breakfast. I have been to some prior in my youth. My parents friends actually owned one on the corner of some busy road in Klamath and it was painted a salmon color. Hideous color but apparently effective as it sprung immediately back to my mind. I have also had dinner prior in a place in Jacksonville but didn’t stay the night.
In my mind B & B’s credit their origin to Vermont. I am not sure where I got this idea; it may go hand in hand with my thoughts of all Connecticut houses built on cul da sacs with Volvos parked in the drive way. Skewed misconception of the opposite coasts. Anyway this room, this house, this street, this town, this state…all off the charts!
Here’s how I wound up here on a blissful Saturday. Carol was raised as a Navy brat and moved to ten different states and visited majority of them during her youth. I think a couple of more may have been added on with our “family road trips” from younger years. Here’s how our 1300 miles in four days would go. Dad driving, Carol in the front seat, and me in the back probably asking tons of questions as the hours stretched on. My dad was a long haul trucker previous to retirement and a taxi driver in his younger years. For some reason he considered us, his family, a shipment that needed to get to the end point as soon as possible. There was no stopping to look at something along the way and we only made a few rest stops. I learned very fast to pee when you could because if it wasn’t around the time to get gas, you weren’t going. If something of interest, say the Redwoods were on the wrong side of the road then we couldn’t stop. Sadly I have become this driver. “No we are not stopping, you should have gone pee before we left.” Another road trip with my grandparents was destined for Crater Lake. A little back-story on this one. My grandma, total pain in the ass, back seat driver, yadda yadda. My dad told her finally to shut the hell up or he was turning the car around. And I’ll be damned if he didn’t turn around not more than five miles before getting there. The result of this is that I didn’t see this natural wonder of the world until I was 25. Shortly there after I cut myself out of the family road trips for fear of a kidney stone.
I think Carol got NY in when I moved there and then there were two standing in her way of completion, Hawaii and Vermont. Hawaii I can understand, it’s way the hell out there but Vermont? How did you not get that? It’s right next door to New Hampshire and New York! Well she checked off Hawaii in style last month and I thought it only fair to make her puzzle complete.
We flew in this morning, rented a car and set off to Ben and Jerry’s (my want) we hit some place which made apple cider donuts, then had lunch at the Trapp family lodge (yes those singing Austrians made there way over here), tried 20 different cheeses, and some Green Mountain coffee. After that we checked in to our cozy B & B and I convinced her to walk around town and then down to watch the sunset over the frozen Lake Champlain.
It’s been a long ass day and I am dying to go to sleep but the romance of this B & B is keeping me awake as I want to take it all in. What’s funny is that I am writing out in the hallway on a couch and every single guest has walked by and said hello. Good stuff up here, I highly recommend.

Jackass moment of the day
Carol and I sat down to enjoy a freshly made apple cider donut and a coffee. The tablecloth was made of vinyl checks reminiscent to a picnic table. Upon the table was a cloth checkerboard complete with red and black discs. A couple walked over to our table and gave us a tilt of the head. I motioned for them to join us and told the guy, “sit down and I can wonp your ass in checkers!” He didn’t respond so I just shrugged it off and returned to my donut. He and his partner ended up being deaf. I felt a little ashamed for not knowing but it makes sense of why he didn't he didn't take me up on my challenge!

colder than a witch's tit

2009-03-02T09:51:00.003-05:00

My dad used to have this among other random sayings and it seems to suit this day well. It's colder than a witch's tit here in NYC today. I knew the gorgeous spring days of Thursday and Friday seemed out of wack. Beth always manages to find the extreme days to use me to walk. The coldest day in five years, the hottest day of the year, a week of flooding, the highest wind gust. Yes, I have braved them all. Today the snow is piled eight inches and still coming down. This won't be bad except for the 30 mph gust which when they kick up, dresses me in snow. The two pups I am dog sitting are not thrilled with the prospect of being out there but don't realize they can't go in until they get their business done. They are not easy to reason with, these dogs.

a black trunk

2009-02-25T01:54:00.002-05:00

There is a gossip writer for the NY Post who blabs on about people and events daily and always ends her columns with "only in NY kids, only in NY". That pretty much sums up my day.
I am on the third night in a row of not falling asleep until 0700. I lay awake praying for sleep sometimes getting up to use the restroom or get on the computer but most of the time just laying motionless hoping for my brain to shut off and my body to fall. That feeling right before a deep sleep, when you feel it coming and welcome it with open arms or fight it when it is not appropriate to sleep. The two days prior it didn't really matter what time I awoke as there were no plans for the day. Today however, I had commitments with a busy week following. I awoke in a nightmarish sweat at 0900 as a huge bee was in my hair. I fell back asleep for forty minutes not restfully but light slumber. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. The clock was not my friend when it came to getting across town to walk the dog. I consider to take a cab in order to keep my commitment to Willy but stopped for a triple latte or what I refer to as my savior these days.
I hoped in a cab and actually made some phone calls and returned some emails as the cab crept across Central Park. I arrived ten minutes late to the lovely greeting of some one who didn't care what time it was, he was just happy to see me. We walked in the NY chill for an hour and then spent some time cuddling.
i walked up ten blocks to the paper store to purchase some additional wrapping paper and talked myself into spending the $8 for a cab ride home versus 45 minutes via public transport. I could maximize my sleep time prior to the next commitment. I got home and made a piece of toast with peanut butter to quite the tummy before laying down with my eye mask on and alarm set. In two hours, I got one. I'll take it. I arose to get into the shower and get ready to get to BJ's for my first serving gig in two months. I got there early, enough time to order a triple latte. I wasn't hungry, I just did my work. It was super busy and I was running my ass off.
I helped a group of people that wanted to eat without a table. I didn't want to but felt bad when my manager wanted me too. My gut was correct as they bolted on their check $35 out of my tips for that bullshit. I continued to get table after table and in moment of calmness took a look around. I was out of the swing of things and this waitressing was exhausting. I used to be a rock star, helping out the other girls. Tonight I was being asked for help. I also took a moment to realize I had new love handles in my Classic tee.
I walked to the bar to get some drinks and came back to find another table skipped out on me. FUCK!!! Are you kidding me? Who does that bullshit as an adult? I was immediately on the defense and went to ask every table for a credit card. Do you realize how bad that makes you look as a waitress? I was depressed, all this work for nothing. The last table I had were NYPD and they were ready to find my check cutters and take them down. We discussed this with great length as they bought me a post shift beer.
As I was counting out my money and paying everyone but myself, I was on the phone to Beth to find out that they are not leaving the country as Drew has lost his passport. I am not dog walking tomorrow...more money lost.
I usually treat myself to a cab after a long night of waitressing but couldn't justify it tonight. And what do I have to get home for? To lay awake and wait for day light? So I began walking. East on 31st Street towards the 6.
What is great about NY is the things people leave on the sidewalk for pick up. Mind you, we have no dump. You could literally furnish your house from items left on the sidewalk. I investigate things every so often and wonder what the hell I would really do with it. I am using my book shelve with delight for over a year now!
There is a black trunk with brass latches and brass corners, it intrigues me. I look inside, just plywood. I inspect the outside to see that it is in good condition considering it's age of forty years or so. I pick it up and start carrying it with me. My $95 dinner in one hand and the 1'x1'x3' trunk in the other. I turn up Park Avenue and enter the subway station. I wait for several minutes with my trunk on the bench. I board the train and sit next to some bums. They comment on my trunk and my dinner. I have my ipod in but can here them. I acknowledge with a "ya right" and a smile. I get off at 86th to catch the cross town bus. I get off here instead of 116th because it is my old neighborhood and I feel safe here. I didn't want to wait for the bus in Spanish Harlem with my trunk. Ten minutes later the bus pulls up. I am the only person on the block. I remind myself of Pattington Bear with his suitcase at the train. I board the bus much to the amusement of the bus driver. I cross the park and get off at CPW. I walked down the subway stairs to catch the B uptown. I am on the only one of the platform. Five minutes later the train comes. I board a some what busy car. I sit down my trunk and look ahead. A gentleman looks at my trunk and gives me a knowing smile. I shrug my shoulders a little proud of my find. I stare at it wondering what I am going to put inside. I decide it will be blankets and old photos and it will sit next to my dinning table. I watch guy for a bit as he is reading. He is not American, he is kind of cute actually.
There have been many times when I wish that someone cute would please, please get off at my stop and make witty banter with me. It never happens and if they do get off at the same stop they or I rush off to the next leg of the journey.
He earmarked his book which made him chuckle during the ride and got off at my stop. He commented about my trunk, I told him I found it on the streets. I ask him what he was reading. A French book he said in a French accent. So we walked for a block and talked. Then I sat down my trunk and he asked for my number. I said yes. Because if I can find treasure on the streets at midnight, I might find something on the subway home.

esb colors

2009-02-24T04:15:00.001-05:00

Putting my new found insomnia to good use....

http://whatcoloristheempirestatebuilding.com/

Today is Committee Encouraging Corporate Philanthropy, Corporate Philanthropy Day

Cool!

pretty in pink...only double the age

2009-02-24T02:11:00.001-05:00

Nothing can make me feel more like a girl than a gorgeous dress. I know it is odd to hear the Yankee fan, dire hard college football, wear no make up on Sunday gal loves a nice dress, but it’s true. It is the dress up part of me, the feminine side you could say.
I swat here by the bed in my new pink party dress and dnky mules trying to capture the moment of how pretty I feel. Swatting is even pretty in this dress. My make up has been washed off for the evening and my hair…we are not even going to talk about my hair. Here I am in alone in my room twirling in front of the window with only a vague reflection back but the top of the city contrasting myself.
It is the dress I searched months for prior to my 30th birthday and could not find. Don’t get me wrong; Marc Jacobs served his duty well for my lavish festivities. But this year, in the party dress, I have no plans. I have birthday proper off work, the only day that week actually.
I have thought about making a reservation at a restaurant I have always wanted to try 21 Club. It has the jockeys outside of it and is rumored to be courted by the celebs.
I have this image of sitting alone with a glass of champagne everyone wondering who I am and why I am dining alone. Maybe a handsome man will come over and ask. I’ll explain that it is my birthday. He’ll send over a birthday cake to my embarrassment and glee. We will go dancing in my pink dress and it will flutter gently with the momentum of the moment.

dubai...a mirage: a letter written to another applicant

2009-02-24T02:09:00.000-05:00

So I went to Dubai to visit my friend and here is what I found out. They called an update meeting to let the cabin crew know that there will be no profit sharing this year as they had not made a profit. Also they have stopped recruiting at this point and time and well as stopped training until they can re-evaluate.

I stayed in crew accomidation and even though it was nice, each person has their own bathroom, bedroom fully furnished in a brand new building. You can't open the windows for fresh air. The building I stayed in was the Millenium Tower and it is in the center of Business Bay which will be something grand in a year or so but right now it is just dirt. My other friend lives in 21st Century building and it a bit friendlier to get around without having a car. That's the thing as well, you really need a car to have sanity. True the crew bus picks you up to and from the airport but other than that there are just taxis. You are not allowed to get a car loan for the first 6 months of your probationary period.

Food is expensive as well since everything is shipped in. It was kind of fun to go to the market and see produce from all over the world though.

I liked the city but I don't believe it lived up to it's hipe.

Pablo sent me this article, which I found amusing and could see how it could be totally true. They are all about appearances.

I'll keep you updated if I hear any good news from there as well.

dubai day one

2009-02-16T16:11:00.002-05:00

Within 11 hours of returning home, I was on a plane once more headed east, the middle east. My friend was working the flight on the A-380 and made the 13 hour flight more bearable with champange upstairs in the business lounge and coming to get me during service breaks.

Fast forward: I am having a feeling that I am going to have to stand up for myself and actually ask to see Dubai not her Dubai which hates the locals and only visits ex-pat sights. I know this will lead to a fight that is usually why I go with the flow but seriously I am the vistor not to her world but to her city. Show me around damn it!!!

hawaii in a coconut shell

2009-02-16T16:01:00.002-05:00

Carol / Me
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight
picked up in town car with lai / took bus to get rental car 1/5 hrs later at hotel
passenger in the convertible / map reader, driver
shopper / bag holder
tourist / tour guide and driver
steak and lobster / sushi
spa day / spa day plus bikini wax
luau lover / pork lover
actually got into the ocean / surfer
discovered poolside drinks / got drunk with local friend and tan!
shuttled to the airport and walked to the gate / returned car, hung out for 5 hours with broken toe
5 hour flight / 10 hour flight

We hit Pearl Harbor Memorial which was moving and informative to learn about where my grandpa and father were during the attacks. The BX, equally fun! : ) Showing my mom the island and actually remembering my previous tour over Christmas was great. Driving the convertible on gorgeous sun filed days was fabulous even if I had to read the map and drive at the same time. Our spa day was amazing and so relaxing. The luau was great especially the part when Carol told the hot luau giver that she wanted a kiss as well. My favorite day was the relaxing one where I hit the waves early in the morning and practiced my surfing skills until a wave kicked my ass and broke my toe. We walked around and in the sand before retiring to the pool. The next morning I went for a final walk on the beach just to soak it all in and re-established the broken toe by hitting it on a rock. It was Friday the 13th but at least I have a souviner for a couple more weeks

february alterations

2009-02-06T22:05:00.002-05:00

Maybe Carol is right, maybe it is the time of year when I start to worry I am not doing enough with my life. She believes it has something to do with my looming birthday. I think it has something to do with the winter blahs. Thus why I always take my holidays around this time. Sunshine does well with my soul and helps tied me over until spring.

In retrospect, I do tend to make those big, life-altering decisions this time of year. I used to attribute it to coming home from a big holiday. It started in my mind when I was 25 right after my first international trip. I didn’t mess around for the first one; it was big and way far away. I spent two weeks in Australia with Turiya, Dennis, and my beau Matt. It was a great trip and it opened my eyes to the world outside of Klamath Falls. I came home and within three months I packed up my life and blindly moved to Portland. I had been to Portland once for a Garth Brooks concert in another lifetime. I had a job and a place to stay for a month and that was all I needed to leave my hometown.

I made a promise to myself to go somewhere new internationally every year from then on. I even opened a savings account to put money away for the next journey.

The following year around the savings account was a little low, I am sure this had something to do with the fact I was supporting my boyfriend. He thought his job was to sit around all day playing PS2 and drinking beer. I met up with Dennis and Turiya once more as they were living in Whistler. There was sunshine up there on those beautiful mountains and I did get my passport stamped as a courtesy so I count it as somewhere international. I came home and within a month I was single ending a four-year relationship.

Next year with newfound freedom and a raise in salary, I made it to Europe for the first time. Once again I met Dennis and Turiya, are you seeing a pattern here? Two weeks we road tripped around Italy and France. It was good fun other than the fact that they were on the cliff of break up and I got to me the person they felt comfortable enough to fight in front of. I came home and was very unhappy with my work life. I also came down with some infliction which lasted no less than two solid months, two rounds of anti-botics, a chest x-ray, and CAT scan. I was in a horrible funk and decided I needed to move to San Diego. I had many phone interviews and called in sick to fly down for a final interview. I missed the plane and by the time I arrived the president of the company already didn’t like me so, no job. I did try to make a life change with no avail. Within two months I met my Pearl friends and found my home.

A new home purchased and still money in the bank. It is easy to say I was in the mortgage business when times were good. This year I took my friend Emily and we met Turiya and two other ladies in Thailand. A great girls holiday for sure. As I was on the second of the three planes back to Portland I started conversing with the flight attendant. He told me I should become a flight attendant since I couldn’t afford to travel as much as I would truly like. I took this under consideration and within two weeks started interviewing with Horizon Airlines. It seemed to snow ball after that and within three months I had quit my job and was in training in Houston, Texas.

Sad to say I didn’t leave the continental US other than the Bahamas for the first seven months of flying until my vacation days arrived in February. I planned a trip with a friend and she was unable to go so I boldly did it on my own. I went to Costa Rica and discovered not only the love of surfing, zip lining, and exploring but also myself. I found out how great it was to do what I wanted, and not to be pressured into drinking if I didn’t want or to take a nap any damn time I pleased. This enlightenment in itself was my big life change.

In June right after my dad’s passing the world finally opened up for me. I was finally an international flight attendant. The destinations and experiences happened over and over again much to my delight. I continued to nurture my boldness of exploring on my own. I even took off to Prague for a long weekend because my roommate was bugging the shit out of me.

I still planned my pilgrimage in February and met…you guessed it, Turiya in Bali. I went there with the intention of spirituality; she came with the intention of getting hammered. We met somewhere in the middle. I followed in the footsteps of Liz Gilbert and found a peace from the horrible month I lived through prior. When I came home the life change was already in place. I decided to stay in New York and not let it make me weak. I stayed and fought already and the holiday was just my reward.

And here I am this year. It is February 6th, 2009. I have already gone to Panama, the only life decision I made there was to never go back and thank god for my intelligence. Hawaii with Carol lies before me Monday and then Dubai with...Turiya. Tomorrow morning is also staring me in the face. I know there will be a decision or two or three which will demand attention soon.
Can I figure them out or will take more years of reflection?

Maybe it is Turiya who is my oracle...

panama, still una persona

2009-02-06T21:45:00.003-05:00

Panama day 2
My friend Jim had to get some things done so he sent me off on a journey around the city. I had to get a cab to take me to the Canal de Panama. I was instructed to say the full name as they may not know what I was referring to if I just said canal. I was also given a figure to pay as well as instructions to figure out if the cab driver was legit or wanted to rob me. (the license plate number should match the number on the side of the door) After an hour in traffic and weaving in and out of neighborhoods while I watched cautiously we made it to the canal. I made it just in time to watch the last ship passing through for the morning. It is a pretty awesome thing to think about. I was standing in South America watching a huge tanker pass through two continents in this man made canal. The logistics of it as learned bilingually as well as with a short film are pretty damn intriguing.
After my millions of pictures I headed over to Casa Vallejo to wander about. Again I had to haggle with my cabbie and the area to get to where I was supposed to be was super sketchy. I kept murmuring, "please don't' let me out here, please don't' let me out here". There area was nice and I wondered around and snapped some photos before I realized I needed to head back to meet Jim.
Our evening in short:
picked up his friend and his Colombian girlfriend
took them to the airport and discussed his next girlfriend's visit
ate dinner at a nice Italian restaurant
we were served last because we were white, I didn't' mind because I ordered a 1/2 liter of wine
headed to a cigar bar
smoked Cuban cigars and drank Cuban beer
watched prostitutes pick up old white men
headed home with no prostitute

Day 3
Jim had to go back to the states and I decided to take a bus out to the beach. Sounds simple enough right? This is Panama were talking about though. My hour bus ride turned into eternity. At hour two we stopped at a road side cafe. I was not only the only English speaker on the bus but also the only person by myself. The bus driver stood up and said something about "an hour". Others got off the bus and wandered in. I looked around and decided to join the crowd towards the bathroom. When I get out I find everyone hoovering around a counter getting soda and pringles. I stand back to watch the scene. As everyone settles down to their individual table I walk up to the counter to see what the deal was.
Options:
6 different kinds of soda (these people live for sugar)
2 types of Gatorade
coffee (it is 100 degrees out)
beer
large cans of pringles...two flavors red or green.
Everyone in the room is eating chips and I all I could think about is my distaste for pringles and why the bus driver thinks it will take an hour to do this activity.
Luckily I am sitting next to the bus at my table for one when everyone gets up and gets back on the bus. Another hour in our drive (makes much more sense) and we arrive at the resort. Not the resort I am staying at, no I have to take a taxi ten minutes away to get to mine.

Playa Blanca is a nice little place. It reminds me of the inclusive resort I stayed in PV with Nichole and Janene. It was nice to catch up on my reading and lay in the sun. What wasn't so nice is to have to answer all the questions posed to me with,
"una persona, si".

una persona, si´

2009-02-03T14:51:00.003-05:00

Well it was Panama that won the earlier battle of places to go. It started off as one of those trips.

Day uno

I hailed a cab on the way out the door but him dicking around costs me to miss the bus at 0630 so I waited around Port Authority unitl 0700. Once we got to the terminal, police had it blocked off for some reason. Finally at the gate, my boarding pass won´t print so I go up to the desk amist chaos that is Latin America travel and get my passport checked and a boarding card. I glance at the seat number and jockeyed for postion as these people like to bring everything not nailed down onto the plane with them. I am all settled in my seat and some guy claims I am in is seat. I look at my card to discover they gave me the incorrect slip. Shit! They were about to close the door and there I stood without a seat. It was rectivied quickly and I was then placed in 12A. The deadheading captain was in 12C and found it necessary to ask the same montanous questions every crew member asks. I answered politely but briefly and finally gave him the stink eye when he started insulting Oregon. I wake up to find a very tall Dutch man next to me and then he proceeds to talk to me even though I have my paper in hand.

I arrive and wait for my friend Jim where he told me to. He drives quickly into town as he has found a Superbowl party for us to attend per my request. We stop for a quick bit and then head over to some penthouse. We arrive and this guy answers the door. A tight fitting tee shirt and silver ¨gun¨ shaped belt buckle. He informs us that everyone just left and we missed the party. It is 2:30 and I find this strange. We head home then to change as we are going to watch the game at a casino now. We make a stop at the friends house who invited us to see what was up. He told us we missed one hell of a party as there was a live sex show on the pool table. I replied that doesn´t have anything to do with the Superbowl. We make it to the casino and order some beers. I have to explain not only the game but how betting on squares works to my friend. I am watching the game, commericals, and the women trying to prostitute themselves all at the same time. Girls are running around in heels and super tight clothing. I don´t get it, I tell Jim who wears high heels to watch football? He explains to me as he motions to my reefs (with the beer bottle opener on bottom) that women are women down here and I am some kind of a man. Whatever, I reply and take swig of beer.
On the way home there was some sort of traffic jam. The Panamanians didn´t seem to mind as they turned up the music, left the cars and started dancing. They all walked to the trunks and retrived beers from coolers. I am cracking up as Jim explains, this is just what they do. I tried to picture New York traffic jams as parties.

took my meat out on the town

2009-01-31T21:11:00.002-05:00

After concluding I wouldn't be bothered by scheduling yesterday, I took the C train down to 23rd and walked east. I was picking up a couple of items for invitation making and it was a nice day to walked for hours. I determined through my walking around the city that I would adore a nice dinner and more over a little boast to my ego. I came home and got ready and headed over to Sparks. I love that I walk in and the mat'rade knows me, he kisses me on the cheek and tells me to wait a moment. I am escorted to the bar for a glass of wine. When I am ready to eat, I am given a private table in the corner and everyone comes by to check on my needs. I order a steak and broccoli to accompany my wine. It is good but way to much and ask to package up the rest. Dessert and coffee come out compliments of the house and I was smart enough to save room. It is only nine at this time and I have some time to kill before I go dancing. I was just in that mood last night, looking for trouble mood. I walk seventeen blocks down to Brother Jimmy's and thought it would be a nice gesture to give my remaining left overs to a homeless person. I didn't see any. So I took my steak to Brother Jimmys for a few cocktails. I can never visit and just have one, the bartenders, managers, and other patrons just won't allow it. I stayed until 11:30 and then hopped in a cab over to 1OAK. Still looking for someone to unload the steak on with no success. I checked my coat and explained my steak to the coat check person who actually charged me for the honor of hanging it next to my coat. No tip for her. I check out the place which is new to me and within five minutes someone has ordered me a drink. He tried to kiss me too in the first five minutes and I just laughed at him. I mingled with a few people and then found someone fun to dance with. At 3:00 I decided to call it a night so I gather up my coat and steak and walked east to Cafeteria. I am not sure that I was hungry but it seemed like a tradition especially being so close. I waited at the bar and drank water, my friend Paul from Oregon was working so I gave him a shout out. Some gay boys were asking my opinion about things and telling me how much they adore me. Love it! I sat down and ordered the usual for me nothing for my steak though. As I was leaving I went up to give a smooch to Paul and tell him good bye. I hailed a cab home and don't remember washing my face or climbing into bed but I did both successfully.
When I got up I facebooked Paul to apologize about all the kisses and found my steak in the fridge.
The steak I ate for dinner and got this message from Paul...
"Haha! Funny thing about that...you kissed my coworker Matt who was quite surprised to say the least. He came up to me and said "I think I got something that was meant for you." Maybe next time..."

too many choices

2009-01-30T10:17:00.002-05:00

There is such a thing as too many options. I sit here two days prior to my month of leave from the airlines, from their daily control, from the insanity which they bestow on me. When I first visualized this epic month, I broke it down into fours: a week serving and making my rent, a week with Carol on our girl's holiday, a week of dog walking, and a week of a fabulous me holiday. Well old life sure has a way of saying "fuck you" when you have perfect plans. My plan to waitress all week has been shot by the economy and the fact that no one wants to give up their shifts. This tragedy has been going on for sometime as I haven't worked since December. It would be okay for me to hang out in NYC for a week to see if by the off chance someone may need me but that is what I have been doing for the last month and I am at the edge of insanity and five pounds heavier. So plans changed to go somewhere for that week instead.
I have the rest of my month nailed down as follows:
8th-14th Hawaii with Carol
15th-20th Dubai
20th-22nd Barcelona
24th-3rd dog walking and oh-happy-day house sitting!
So this first week is the one giving me issues. And it is not like I haven't had some good offers, I was offered to meet a friend in Vietnam. It looked as though it was going to work out with flights and everything until I double checked on visas. Damn it! It takes four to five business days to get a visa and of course I found out about this offer Friday evening and I left for Colorado on Sunday. The only chance I had was to go and sweet talk the embassy yesterday morning when they opened but no, had airport alert at an inappropriate time.
Sidenote: I almost ended up going to Panama City yesterday which oddly enough is one of my other options.
My other offer was to go to Copenhagen for a couple of days starting on Monday. This would give me the chance to watch the Superbowl at home with some friends and get me back on the 5th. Upsides: meeting a physical need which has been met in a really long time and I would have a free place to stay. Downsides: I have already been there, it's cold, and there is not much to do.
Option three: Turiya is operating the inaugural flight to Sydney next week. I could very easily hop my way over there and it would make perfect sense to say over there in the Pacific and then meet Carol in Hawaii. However, I have two commitments here on the 7th.
Option four: Going to Panama City. A friend of mine is down there as we speak and I can stay with him for a couple of days. Then he heads back to Houston. I am not sure if I can stay longer at his place but his emails are not looking that way. I am sure I can find a cheap hotel and come back on Friday. This seems like the best option as I could get grounded in the city and then be set free. It is also very warm and I could master not eating so much to stay warm and work on my base tan for Hawaii. The downside is the unsure of what to do down there and I would have to fly out Sunday. I was promised I could watch the SuperBowl but it's in Spanish which is fine for the game but I am sure the legendary commericals will be lost on me.
I am on call right now and don't think I will be used for the rest of the day or tomorrow so I kind of want to get a head start on things. But where do I want to go?
There are many other options, hell, I have the whole world at my fingertips.
I just have to choose.
My mind is spinning around the globe.
Where do I want to go?
And how important is this commitment on the 7th?

colorado

2009-01-27T17:09:00.002-05:00

I am sitting at a beautiful counter top trying to keep my sanity while looking after a five and an eleven year old. Clearly this is not the holiday I had planned. I came out to Colorado and attempted to see everyone while here while also being an accommodating to the those who are giving me a ride around the area.
Sunday I arrived after we had to abort our first approach and circle while it cleared up. The second try was successful and I was watching with a little of tenseness after listening to the flight attendant describe the approach which had to be done with such exactness a faction of a mistake would wide us up in the side of the mountain. It was the first time more than one person has ever met me at the airport and it was so great to see my girls waiting to pick me up. We went and met her hubby and some other friends had some nachos and brews and then headed home. Her place is a lodge like house sat in front of the backdrop of the mountains.
The next day we hit the slopes of Snowmass in Aspen and it was a picture perfect day for skiing. I haven't been on skis in years. It is amazing how we let fear take over when we are adults. I started down the bunny slope and realized I remembered how to do this. We jumped on the gondola and headed up..and up. I was staring down and the fear took over. There is only one way down, did I remember how to stop? Crap, what am I doing? I was doing okay until I reached a blue hill and I went into panic mood. I finally just went for it and ended up crashing because I was going too fast for my liking so I just sat down. I counted the pieces, two skis still attached and one pole...shit! I look up the hill and five feet up was the other pole. I tried to side step and get it but gravity was my enemy. I took off my skis and walked up there. I got my feet back underneath me and continued down. That was my only fall all day. We did five runs and I loved every minute of it as the snow hit against my face and my confidence grew.
We came home to dinner and hung out.
Today we were supposed to go to Vail but things didn't seem to click into place so here I am in this gorgeous home while Hilary is with her horse, Mike is at work and I have a new memory for birth control.

pants or jeans to be more spefic

2009-01-23T11:22:00.002-05:00

While re-telling a conversation to Nichole which transpired between Jim and myself she asked my about "7's".
I was dating this guy Jay for a hot minute and when I ended it, I simply let him know that we were not a good emotional match. He told me he didn't know what that meant; so I used the analogy of when people date it is like trying on clothes (this is stolen from Sleepless in Seattle if you are keeping track). Sometimes they there are too tight and restricting, sometimes they almost fit but need some adjustments, and sometimes they are not even taken off the hanger.
Jim was right on the ball when I was explaining my theory. He choose to narrow it down to just pants because they have to fit just so. I agreed that you just don't feel good about yourself until you have the perfect pants. He laughed and then called me "pant-less" the rest of the day.
The story now laid out to Nichole and she asked me as we were riding the elevator upstairs to the shoe department of Nordstroms. I explained to her that I wanted my Armani jeans I had bought in Rome. The jeans that fit amazing in the waist that sits just right on my hips, the legs are the perfect length for heels but not too long for flats, the butt always looks good. I feel amazing when I wear these jeans.
"What about 7's?" she asks.
My second pair of 7 jeans used to be my favorite and they are my go-to jeans for going out and when I want to feel good running errands around the city. In fact I am wearing them right now. I have gained some winter weight due to my lack of activity combined with my wanting of comfort food. These jeans don't judge me for the extra 5 pounds they just stretch to make it all seem okay. They are comfortable and reliable. I am disappointed when they are dirty and I have to go to other jeans. They dress up, they dress down. I love them. But not as much as I love how I feel when I wear those Armani's. You can buy 7's anywhere, they look good on almost everyone. I only know of a few places to buy the others. That perfect fit I am still looking for in a date.