sent to me during a previous struggle to stay

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

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



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



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


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

They were New Yorkers



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

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



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


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

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

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

YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE AN EGG CREAM.

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

YOU KNOW WHAT A 'REGULAR' COFFEE IS.

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

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

A 500 SQUARE FOOT APARTMENT IS LARGE.


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

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

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

YOU KNOW WHAT A BODEGA IS.

SOMEONE BUMPS INTO YOU AND YOU CHECK FOR YOUR WALLET.

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

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

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

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

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

that's my day...

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

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

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

twitter

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should i stay or should i go now?

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

hkg trip 2

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

on the plane across the north pole

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

one of those...

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




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

dca

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


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

sure, i'll go

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

office away

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

i can’t escape stupidity

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

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

sweet sixteen, only double the age

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

HKG...to be cont..

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

lucky trip

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

st patty's day 09

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

cheese

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

404

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

b & b

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


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

colder than a witch's tit

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

a black trunk

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

esb colors

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

http://whatcoloristheempirestatebuilding.com/

Today is Committee Encouraging Corporate Philanthropy, Corporate Philanthropy Day

Cool!

pretty in pink...only double the age

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

dubai day one

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


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

hawaii in a coconut shell

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

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

february alterations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it is Turiya who is my oracle...

panama, still una persona

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

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

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

una persona, si´

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

Day uno

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

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

took my meat out on the town

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

too many choices

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

colorado

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

pants or jeans to be more spefic

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

how much more?

I am losing grip on my sanity. It has been 18 days since i was a flight attendant, six weeks since I have been a waitress, and gratefully only three hours since I have been a dog walker. I live under the control of scheduling these days and unlike the two months prior I am not a call out line which means they can call me 24 hours a day and give me two hours to be at the airport. My bags are already packed and my uniform hanging in the closet dressed with wings. That is good common practice for me, but I know that I am not going to go anywhere. At best I may be given airport alert and sent home after my duty day. There are no trips for reserves these days. All of my friends are sitting around as well. It sucks also because no one is giving up waitressing shifts and the couple I have been asked about I couldn't commit until the last minute and by then they were gone. It is a maddening cycle actually. Last Friday I thought it would be good fun to start drinking every night. Seeing how I don't get out of bed until 1200 these days, why not? For a period of fives days this was a fabulous idea, drink every night and sleep all day. Once I would get up I would walk to Starbucks, and come back to my "make-shift" office at the dinning room table and play on the computer. I will have to say I am being a bit constructive with designing things and do travel research but still...goofing off is a better term. I do this until 1800 or so when my roommate comes home and then I head out the door. He is a little ADD and is a nerd in the nicest respect of the word. He never goes anywhere and makes dinner at 2300 almost every night. We have polite conversation while the two dogs jump around and then I find a way to end it so I can go into my room and make a game plan for the evening. Tonight I don't have the energy to brave the cold and sit at a bar. Tonight I sit here and wonder if I can go to bed by ten and actually sleep. Sleep and not have nightmares or wake up with my head spinning in circles.

whole foods dinner

I am having dinner at Whole Foods for the second time this week; I am wondering if I am drawn here because it's a piece of home. I sat at the end of a high bar communal table and placed my dinner out before me: salad, water, green tea, and key lime pie. A woman moves in such a dramatic fashion I can't help but to watch as she gathers her belongings from the next table to join mine. First placed down is her small salad and dessert containers then her coat, followed by an Evelyn and Crabtree bag. Her commotion cause my attention to fixate on her and her belongings. She sees this as an opportunity to talk. "Damn woman is talking about a delivery at a table we people eat" is her opening line. I looked at her with a puzzled look wondering what was so offensive about food delivery or perhaps a piece of furniture. I give her an understanding nod however. Sensibility took over and I realized she must have been referring to the birth of a child. Her eyes light up as she looks at my dessert, much like mine did while choosing it from the pastry case. Before both of us sits a perfect three inch in diameter key lime cheesecake with a lime at top waiting patiently in it's clear container for my consumption. While she comments on my choice, she holds up her mess of a dessert and proclaims it's tiramisu. She opens it up to have a bite before her dinner.
I continue to watch her a she wolfs down her food with no beverage in sight. She stops only to squirt some lotion onto a napkin and smell it. She has put her ipod in by this point and then proceeds to line up the C&E bags contents on the table before her. She removes price tags of each and stares at them devoting just a much time to last as to the first. Her hair is an over processed red and pulled back sloppily. The liner of her eyes picks up one of the many colors of her fleece vest which layers over another fleece.
My heart goes out to her because I can guess she is single and myabe alone in the city. She had the trademarks of being from the Northwest. Perhaps a young girl who came out to the big city to see what else there was in the world. She didn't leave in time. She becomes a flash of my future if I continue to eat dinner alone on Saturday night in New York City.

snow

It started off with a few flakes while I was in the UPS store giving in to paying someone to pack my TV. Now as I sit at my make-shift desk the flakes are in race to hit the ground and have grown substantially. I love the snow and more over how beautiful it makes the city. Everything slows down for a moment and even the oldest person stops and stares up for a moment. The ESB is no longer in my view but what replaces the usual view outside my window is perfect. I walk to the sliding glass door to look up and get lost in the magic.

water landing

I am watching the news about the second plane crash in a month. I am looking at it from a flight attendant perspective. This was a water landing. They had time to plan the evacuation. It has shook me up, more than the rejected take off crash in Denver. This one landed in the ice cold Hudson in one piece. It was reported that both wings were on fire and the captain choose to land in the river versus the Bronx or Manhattan. Each crash is a learning experience. We are trained to react and place ourselves in the position of what if I was on that flight.

two-e

I am in a dating recession. Mostly because I am so damn picky and partly because I am not in the mood to play the game that goes along with the getting to know you week. The texts, calls, yada, yada. I also haven't been asked out in a while either so I said what the hell when I was given a business card on my flight to London.

We emailed back and forth with my trip to Portland and his to London in between when we actually met to when we arranged to meet up. I used Dave May's tactic of just communicating through email. I like it because I am not obligued to answer the phone or respond immediately as a text prompts.

We decided on a day and I let him pick the place as he would be coming from work and I would come from dog walking. He chose a place called Galway Hooker on 36th. Joy, same place Chris took me on our "turn around date" and first kissed me. Yes, I am familar with the place I say, what time would you like to meet? He tells me between 6:30 and 7:00. I look at the clock as I am leaving my place and send him a quick email that I will be closer to the later time but I am on my way. When I get out of the subway at 34th, I receive an email that he had just left the office. We should have showed up with in minutes of each other.

I arrive at 6:50 and make a pass through the bar. I didn't see him so I found a bar stool near the door and began to read "Home and Away" an Irish pub paper. I looked up every time the door opened and after a drink and twenty minutes I began to plan a place to take myself to dinner. The bartender came over and gave me another drink and a sympathic smile. It took me until 1935 to finish it and decide this is what I get for accepting a date from a guy who asked me for a massage on the airplane.

I exit the bar and walk west. He is standing there in thirty degree weather. "What are you doing?" He tells me that he waiting for me and thought he was being stood up. I explain to him I was waiting inside for him for a half an hour and now I am going to dinner. He said he emailed me and I showed him my phone to prove I hadn't received anything. He asks if he can buy me dinner and said yes, we are going Nobu. It is 21 blocks up and I started walking. He asked me if I had my eyebrow pierced,
which struck me as odd. This was the beginning of odd topics for the evening,

We make it to Nobu and ask for a table, we are kindly sat at the sushi bar (I would have scored a table). We order a few things and make small talk. I notice that he is talking quite a bit and I chalk it up to nervousness. He begins to tell me how much grain it takes to fed a cow till maturity. Mind you this guy is from NJ not Kansas, I am not sure where he got this information or why he is telling me. I respond that I like veal best and they don't take as much grain because they are killed as babies.

We finish up dinner and he wants dessert. He wants ice cream to be more specific. Fine I will walk with you to get ice cream. We walk and walk and find nothing but I do point him to a deli which has good cheesecake. He orders a slice and I order coffee counting the seconds until the end of the date. I have given up talking or trying to tell any story what so ever because it interupted and then moved onto another subject. We talk about cooking briefly and I started to tell my troubles find enchillada sauce in the city. The subject shifts suddenly to unions and people banging pots and pans. Yes, I was lost as well so I called it a night.

I told him I was taking the B uptown and going home when I was really heading over to BJ's to meet Beth. Well he decides to go the same stop but downtown. So we walk through the turn stiles me cursing him for following me as I was just going to pretend to go down and then catch a cab east bound. He is on the upper level and I need the lower level. I give him a hug good night and walk down the stairs. Mind you I am wearing a bright pink jacket so I can't just walk back up the stairs and leave. My train comes first so I take it to the next stop and grab my cab.

I am enjoying time with friends and recreating the date to their amusement when I get this email....
Subject line "did you..."
"Get home safe? I saw a huge rat on the staircase in the subway. It was kinda just hanging out. Strange. Figured I’d make sure you got on your train and weren’t carried away but rabid rodents J

I had a nice time tonight. I’m going to go with Howard Stern as my celebrity. He talks about Nobu all the time on the radio so it will be totally believable!

I just emailed my mom about the east coast enchilada sauce mystery. I’ll keep you posted."

anywhere

I am looking for a box to ship my TV in. At first I thought I could just take it to Fed-ex and have them package it prior to shipping as it would be more insurable. I looked up the nearest Fed ex yesterday. Then wondered how I would make it ten blocks in Harlem while carrying a TV. It occurred to me to take a taxi from the apartment and it would be well worth the $5 and would save my sanity. Also knowing my luck, I did some research last night on how much it would cost to send it with my discount. I wrote down the phone number to inquire about preparations prior to my arrival. I am glad I called because I learned they couldn’t package things for me. I went downstairs to see if my doorman, Thomas had any ideas for me. He was busy so I went to grab a coffee and think the situation through. I decided that I would find an original box somewhere, more and likely Best Buy and take it to Fed ex via cab. I took a chance in asking Thomas if there were any spare TV boxes in the building. As we were walking down to the basement, I asked, “Do you ever think of how hard it is to get the simplest thing done in New York?” His response was perfect. “That’s why if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

ordering coffee

I am standing in line at Starbucks the other morning. Okay is was after noon as I don't roll out of bed until then. The guy in front me orders a coffee. "Cream and sugar". The explanation comes from behind the counter that those things are put in by the customer but she would leave room for him.

I got his attention, "Can I ask you something?".

He looked shocked I was talking to him. "Um sure."

"When you are on an airplane, do you tell the flight attendant cream and sugar when you order a coffee?"

He paused for a moment and said yes.

His pause made me not believe he made this a practice.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well I am a flight attendant and it drives me crazy when passengers expect us to read their minds. You didn't expect that lady (motioning towards the bartista) to know how you liked your coffee."

"You're not from around here are you?"

my bf

I get so fuckin' irritated at people who choose to walk down the busy streets of Manhattan holding hands. Most of the time these idiots are tourist and haven't been briefed on the "we don't have time for this crap, either speed up or hold hands in the middle of the street instead". They wander along, not a care in the world and with certainly no thought to the people behind them. I am usually that person behind them who walks a hundred miles an hour (NY and my walking skills are made for each other) and I try to duck from side to side to get past them and on my way. I can dodge to the right but then they see something they need to look at. I try for the left but inevitably there is someone coming at me or on a really bad day another damn couple holding hands.

This phenomenon is crazy maddening when I walking the dogs because some of them don't understand that we need to adjust our pace. The pugs, for example, just decide to stop when someone is too close thus making me fall on top of them if I am daydreaming. Zeus on the other hand, he likes to get in stride with them. Especially Latino ladies, he loves to walk in between them. I seek these couples out sometimes when he is being a little shit. My big dogs, I love to let them run right up behind these damn couples and let the pitbull doing the talking, "get the hell out of our way, I am going to the park" their presence seems to say.

These sidewalk blockers are a great work out when I actually choose to run on the street versus the park. I weave in and out them as well as any other person or object on the crowded sidewalk. It is a great ab work out as long as I am mentally prepared.

The time when this crap makes me the most agitated is when I have my roller board and backpack behind me. I am walk at a good pace and therefore, this physics here, I have extra momentum behind me to stop or to run your ass over with. It is usually on the way home from a trip when I am tied and have already carried my bags up and down stairs at the airport, heaved into overhead lockers, wheeled on to and off of the bus, and up and down the subway stairs. It is these times when I see these couples holding hands that I get a little sad that I don't have anyone to hold my hand and irate the person in a hurry behind me. It is these moments that I look down and realize I am holding hands with my someone...my roller board.

He goes with me where ever I go, always up for adventure and rarely gives me any lip now that he is sporting pink roller blade wheels. He is happy to sit and wait for me to get ready. He holds my things without giving me the look like, "really?". He has out on his own stand both at home and on the road. He holds the things I need for daily trip survival. He wears my stickers collected proudly. He has been all over the world with me and never once asked me why I stayed in the room with him instead of going out. He knows I am faithful as for the backpack, we went through some losers before finding this one in Brussels.

five nights

There is much to be said in my life for spending five nights in a row in one bed. I am extremely accustomed to having my stuff ready to go at all times. In the morning whilst away it is routine of me to use one beg and take to my rollerboard then back to finish getting ready so the other may be put back as well. If I am really on the ball while at home, I take the time to refill all my "UK-tavived" bottles and pack them neatly back into the clear bag which conforms to security screenings.

Each morning I get up, I make my bed sometimes immediately or first thing after returning to it's side from running to the bathroom. I make beds if I am at home, most definatly, staying at a guys house (if memory serves correctly), and in a hotel room. I was questioned about my strange habit by Chris one morning as I was making his bed.
"You don't have to do that" he says.
Sorry just habit.
"Do you make your bed all the time?"
Yes, even in the hotel rooms, I don't want the maid to think I am a slob.
"Even on check out day?" he presses.
Everyday is checkout day, I reply.

And so it goes. Even when I am slow, I never get five nights in a row in a bed. So for this to sequence to have recently occur to me, it through me back into routine. I got up every morning at 0930, made my bed, walked around in a daze for a bit my feet making the old familiar sound as they made contact with the cork floors. I became a quick, once again regular at the local Starbucks and found myself taking the long way back to my layover spot. Because I am a creator of habit, I could eat the same breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for weeks with no complaints, I fell fast for this routine. I like waking up in pink shits versus purple or the oh-so-common white.

Now I am back in NY about to go to be in "my bed" and wait for the call tomorrow to see which bed I will be making come Monday morning.

09.jan.09

In writing “about myself” in the box reserved on myspace page a hundred years ago, I wrote that I was "into traveling" and was hoping to have my passport filled up by the time it expires.
It was midnight on the eve of the ninth of this month when I pulled it out of it zipper pouch in my backpack to verify the number. I stopped and looked at both the issue date and expiration. 09.Jan.13. Four more years to go.
Myspace was set up prior to this leap of faith that has sent me out to fill up those pages to the point I am asking people to no longer stamp me since I am running out of room. There are pages devoted to visas, a two work visas and holiday visas. One is for a country I have yet to go to, but could any day now.
That is the pull of this job, the magnet of why I keep sticking it out. Where will I go tomorrow? There are so many possibilities and it always there at my fingertips, almost always out of reach.
Until the phone rings and I am sent to a new destination; one where I will beg the crew to stop by customs so I can add that precious stamp to my collection.

and then there was one

My second day of waking up in my bed, the one with the pink sheets was revitalizing. I got up in time to take a much needed shower and throw some clothes in the wash. May I pause to note how awesome it is to have a washer and dryer right here in the house. I cruised around with Nichole with a pop in to my chiropractor who used the word "jacked" while describing my back. Every bone and joint was cracked under her body. I feel wonderful and apparently my legs are the same length again!
The day was spent in preparation for my international wine and cheese party. The turn out was awesome with old dear friends, neighborhood friends, and new people. The friends of friends kept apologizing for crashing the party which I thought was preposterous. Everyone is a stranger before they become your friend was my reply to each "crasher". It was a huge success in my book and I even took a minute to step to the side and remember how lucky I am to have so many good people in my life.
Wine bottles, all fourteen of them in the recycling box, cheese in the fridge, wine glasses awaiting cleaning and myself was all left standing at 11pm.

unplanned date with joe

I love the fact that I can find a bad date even if I am not out on an oficial date. I went out for a night cap after Dave May dropped me off from a nice dinner around 2100 local time. I was convienced I didn't want to hang around the place and let my mind wander about as I thought it may. So I grabbed my purse and headed down the south staircase. I walked past many places peering in to find nothing exciting going on. I finally decided on Vault as they make good drinks and there was more than 5 people in the bar. So I saddled up at the bar and ordered a lemon basil martini. After half the drink was downed a guy came alone and sat two bar stools away. Mind you, I have been in prime looking mode lately, about half the men population has been turning my head. So he finally comes and talks to me. I should have ran when I figured out how negative he was about everything. I learned he lived in Seattle and was an ex-Marine...run...jarhead...run. This is said with love because my father was in the Marinie Corp. But there is something about military guys. God love them for their sacrifice for us but when it comes to dating...run. Anyway we talked for a bit and then I was ready to leave and we closed out our bills at the same time. I paid for mine and he for his. May I make a point here that in NY a woman never pays for a drink. Those boys weren't raised that way. It was difficult to swallow at first being from dutch-ville west coast but I have quickly learned it is how to treat a lady. And I like it, a drink for my time, Okay. So we left together and ended up at the same bar at which I had a fabulous first date with Tom, where I had a second date with Andy, a fun double with Sean. You know the "dive bar" of the Pearl. It was in the very booth of the Tom and I date that this guy, Joe taught me how to pick a lock from his years in intellegence with the Corp. When I finally decided I had enough of the boring conversation, I motioned to the bartender for the bill which totaled $13, love Portland. And he accepted my contribution of $5 because that was all I had that I knew I was on a bad, unplanned date. When he asked me for my number, I gave him the standard fake because that is what nice girls (oregon) with good sense (new york) do.

nightly routine

I went to wash my face and brush my teeth; you know the usual routine before heading off to bed anywhere I happen to be laying my head to rest. I walked into the yellow bathroom with a touch of familiarity much like I feel when I am in Manchester or Paris. I looked for a bit for the washcloth and then set up my dop kit next to the sink. It should have been like clockwork for me to put the washrag somewhere to dry but I had to hesitate asking myself where I used to put it prior.

I am home currently, the real home, the one in which I have my name attached to a deed somewhere in a vault.
It feels odd.
I walked to the lobby and turned to the elevators, there is a distinct smell with my building. I walked into the elevator and noticed a new floor. Doors opened to the fourth floor and I made my way with ease to the right and around the corner. I had trouble with the lock but that is just me and my relationship with locks. I walked into an immaculately clean place. A touch of familiar but not as much I as have longed for as I lay awake hours before the wake up call. I just walked around in a daze opening cabinets and looking at my things.
My glasses, my blender, my matches, my bowls, and spices. It was so very odd to think of these things as my own. My old life lay here before my eyes and at my finger tips. I sit here now at my old desk, my desk that has been with me for ten years and seen much inspiration, hurt, and joy.

I sit here now wondering where I am in every sense.

not so happy new year

It was snowing yesterday; it was a beautiful scene. The flurries dancing in the wind and then deciding to stay by attaching to the ground and anything in their path. I took the opportunity to take photos in the park of the snow dusting the trees. It was a magical time to be at the park and my attitude was still positive when it came to the evening ahead.

The phone rang at 1530 just as I was applying a coat of nail polish. I answered and asked what good things awaited me. I found out and questioned that I was to be deadheaded to Houston to sit at the Marriott Hotel on ready reserve... excuse me, what?

I got dressed in civilian clothes and headed to the airport. The bus was not in its normal pick up spot since everyone and their dog was in town for the ball drop. An unlikely person told me where to go and I followed her thinking it was the perfect reminder that the year was going to be behind me soon.

I got a salad and joined the other nine people who had the same misfortune as myself. We sat miserably on the flight for four hours wondering what would happen to us. We got to the hotel to find out that we didn't have rooms so luckily someone took charge and got things worked out.

We agreed to meet in the hotel bar in ten minutes to ring in the New Year, the CST new year since the ball dropped while we were waiting for our rooms. I was the second to arrive and immediately scoped the room for a midnight kiss. Nothing promising considering there was maybe 25 people and of them 20 made up this odd Mexican family singing old tune karoke. I am talking about a fat ten year old girl trying to sing Frank...they don't go together. Rich and I waiting for the others and ordered a double from Donna who informed us the bar would be closing at midnight. I stood there thinking I could be at a black tie penthouse party right now. What the hell is going on here. The others showed up and ordered a drink to go and went back to their rooms to order room service. After ordering my own bottle of wine (yes you read correctly) I walked up to the cutest guy in the room and struck up a conversation. He was a Texan and after five minutes I decided that I would have to down the whole bottle of wine to want to kiss him.

We meet in Dale's room and listened to music and tried to make sense of why we were here. Four gay guys, a latino girl, and myself in a hotel room new years eve. I begged one of the guys to kiss me at midnight local time and you would think I was asking them to kiss a fish. I got a peck from the petite one.

I went to bed sending no well wishes to anyone like I normally do because try as I might, I had nothing positive to say.

I woke up and drank the $5 bottle of water in my room and then headed over to the airport for breakfast and coffee. Thank god for coffee. I wander around a bookstore and then another for a good hour. My book is almost at an end as I read it on the way here and I have no computer. I didn't bring it because if I am send to Central American countries they take it in security. So my only sanity is left at home. I bought a book, a paper, three bottles of water, some jerky, a postcard, and some dried fruit for my hold out in room 4178.

It felt as though I was in a foreign country, as most Texans feel they should be their own country, it is suiting. The stupidity that surrounded me as I walked through the airport just amazed me, that all the fat asses that are down here. Here is a perfect example. I finally decided on a book and was finishing up my transaction when a high school girl came up to the counter.

"I am looking for Wuthering Heights."

"Wandering what?" replied the uneducated cashier.

"Wuthering Heights, we are supposed to read it for class."

"Who wrote it?"

"I am not sure."

It was at this point I stepped in and explained that it was a classic book and I think maybe Hemingway was the author, I am not sure though.

"Heming-who?"

"Earnest Hemingway, a literary icon." I said.

"Can you spell that?"

Good Lord please get me the hell out of this place and back to the land of intelligence, healthy food, bars that stay open til 0400, and my sanity.