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.
28 July 2009
29 july
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.
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.
25 July 2009
7.25
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.
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.
22 July 2009
news
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.
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.
13 July 2009
mr preston
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….
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….
10 July 2009
lack of concentration
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.
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.
27 June 2009
all for hairless toes
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.
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.
26 June 2009
moments in the apple this week
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!
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!
21 June 2009
2f
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.
"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.
18 June 2009
over it
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.
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.
15 June 2009
shrink wrap love
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!
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!
13 June 2009
rest please
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.
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.
06 June 2009
fast track
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.
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
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.
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.
03 June 2009
shoe box
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.
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.
30 May 2009
return to roma
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.
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.
27 May 2009
chicken fried, cold beer on a friday night..
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.
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.
19 May 2009
old blog
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.
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
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.
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.
14 May 2009
packing it up
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.
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.
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