Things That Make You Go Hmm...

Being low on the seniority totem pole, I was stuck working Christmas. By having some seniority, I did get off most of Christmas Eve, and I didn't have to check in until 1445 on Christmas. Fredi and I made Christmas dinner real early and we got to eat our Christmas Brunch before I left for the airport.
It was just going to be a simple Fort Myers turn. Fly 118 people down there, pick up 47 and fly back. Sounds simple right?

Everything was smooth, until "SHE" got on the plane. This woman boarded the plane with an attitude. She was looking to pick a fight with someone. That someone turned out to be me. I was the one in the back galley closest to her seat. Lucky me.

The first thing that happened was she got irritated that I couldn't pick up her trash right away, because I was busy waiting on other customers. After that, she threw her trash in my galley and yelled at me. OK, now I'm thinking this woman is crazy. I just let it roll off my back. She must just have forgotten her Prozac.

The next thing, she stuck her foot out in the isle to trip me. I saw it, and asked her to move it politely three times, she ignored me. I climbed over her leg with a number of drinks in my hand. At this point I'm trying to think in my mind, how I can make this funny? I realize she is probably just jealous.

Then she came into my galley to ask for a spoon, when I told her I didn't have one, she mocked me. I told her maybe they have some in the front. Then this miserable human being ran up to first class to get a spoon, and came back to my galley shaking the spoon in my face yelling and contorting her face "WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT IS THIS?!" At first I thought, "I don't know, a lunatic shaking a spoon?" But I decided to say just "A spoon." She yelled "I want your name, you couldn't be bothered to get one for me." I said, "Lady, you need to get out of my galley right now and go sit down. You have been making trouble since you got on this aircraft, and I don't want to see your face again, shut your mouth and get out of here."

She stomped up to first class to tattle on me. The first class flight attendant let her know, if she had one more outburst, we would have security meet the flight.

The other two flight attendants in my galley just stood there open mouthed. One said, "You've got balls". I said, "I just told her like it is, I'm not afraid of her, and she needs to check herself, or security will meet this flight and she will be arrested. She's lucky I didn't handcuff her to her seat."

I know I always say this, but it just amazes me how important some people think they are. My dog acts better than she does. I'm not that important, I know that. I call it like I see it, smile, and continue to have a Merry Christmas.

I don't like confrontation, but that doesn't mean I'm a pushover. The look on her face when I laid it out to her was priceless. I finally found the humor in the situation.

When I count my Christmas Blessings, not having her as a relative, is right there on the top of my list.

Merry Christmas!

I am so surprised that it has been so long since I've updated my blog. It feels like it's only been one week, when in fact, it's been a few.

Because it is our busy season, I have been flying almost non stop. The best place I've been since I've last blogged is Jamaica. I always wanted to go there, and now I finally have.

It wasn't exactly what I pictured, but it was beautiful anyway. After we got to the airport, our driver came to pick us up and he was able to find us, which I was really thankful for, because that place was a zoo. The drive on the opposite side of the road, and it was just utter confusion with hundreds of people swarming trying to get a ride.

On the way to the resort, our driver was nice enough to stop and get us some jerk chicken. The place is called Scotchy's and it's just outside Montigo Bay. I don't think I saw a single sidewalk. It was stone everywhere. Scotchy's like the rest of the place is real primitive, but the chicken is the best. At thirteen US dollars for a whole chicken, it better have been the best.

All along the road there were shacks, and I was wondering what they were for. It was like sticks put together to make the shacks. They were restaurants and stores. They were primitive but cool.

The resort was nice, and it has it's own private little island for laying out in the sun. I managed a tan, and got to go kayaking which always makes me happy.

At the end of the trip, I exchanged one US dollar into Jamaican currency and ended up with sixty two Jamaican dollars. That was the most fun I've ever bought with a buck.

I wonder where they will send me for Christmas.

I was on this beautiful three day trip. It was awesome. My crew was cool. We were like The Mod Squad. One blonde girl, one Russian dude, and me. We bonded like glue and would walk through the airport terminals all in a line next to each other with our roller bags.

We were out at our West Coast base, which shall remain nameless. We are East Coast based, and the two bases think they're rappers and we often clash. As me and the mod squad are walking through the terminal as if we are on a mission, other West Coast crews are whispering and pointing. "They're from (East Coast Base which shall remain nameless.)"

Our uniforms are the same, but at our base we break all the rules. I wear big hoop earrings, Russian dude wasn't wearing his required jacket, and Blondie, had her hair blowing in the wind. I think our West Coast Base is more by the rules because that's where our corporate headquarters is located.

We roll down to a flight attendant break room, and we don't know the code to get inside. Russian dude knocks on the glass door to a male flight attendant who is on the computer. This flight attendant gets up, walks across the room, and then points to a sign that reads, "Same Code as Crew Room." He then walks back to the computer and sits down.

Russian dude bangs on the door, and says "You've got to be freaking kidding me! Let us in! We're not based here, we don't know the code!" The male flight attendant lets us in, then tells Russian dude, "Shut you're pie hole!" Then Russian dude says, "You want me to shut you up? Lets go right here!" The other flight attendant shrank back to his corner.

Never have I heard anyone older than ten say "Shut your Pie Hole". For the rest of the trip, anytime my fellow Mod Squadder said anything, I told him to shut his pie hole. Hilarious that East Coast, West Coast rivalry.

So I'm on my way to Phoenix last night, and the turbulence is out of control. A customer who refused to sit down after repeated announcements falls flat on her face on the way to the restroom. Don't say I didn't tell ya.

So here I am sick from turbulence, and we are in between services. I know in five minutes I have to take the beverage cart out again so I'm stuffing my face full of Chicken trying to feel better. We got a break in the bumps so me and Santa roll out the cart out to pour some drinks.

After the service I go into the restroom to wash my hands and reapply my lipstick. I look into the mirror and I've got mayonnaise all over my face. Cute, princess. Note to self, don't go into the isle without checking a mirror.

At first, I thought my crew was a bit dull, turns out they were just tired. Oh how wrong I was. The lead flight attend he looks just like Santa Clause. He dresses like him too to make the kids smile. He's got the glasses, the Santa hat, suspenders, and a Christmas tie. His card even has his picture with him as Santa on it. I'm going to scan it and post it here when I get home this weekend.

The first class flight attendant, she is a designer of gorgeous leather bags. I'm looking at hers drooling, because I'm a bag lady. I love them. The only thing I like more than bags is shoes.

Another flight attendant I met last time I went to Las Vegas. She is a jewelry designer. She flys all over the world scouting precious and semi-precious jewels for her jewelry. She designed a wrist cuff for Chris Angle at the request of his sylist. I'm starting a collection of her jewelry. She met me in Cleveland the day before to bring me a necklace I just had to have.

I have to keep reminding myself, there are some really fabulous people out there. I need to stop forming an impression before I know the facts.

I was doing my airport appreciation again, and with who else but that ridiculious flight attendant I met last week. Ridiculious is a good way...

We found out we have something in common. Both of our Mothers have had so much plastic surgery! We kept laughing saying, "My Mother had this done", then the other person would say, "So did mine!" And we would laugh and laugh.

His Mother lives in Brazil, so I guess it's more accessable there than Pennsylvania. Reguardless, I do think my Mother has had the most work done.

I probably would never get any plastic surgery. I would prefer to spend the money on a personal trainer and a nutrtionist than to get lipo suction or a tummy tuck.

My Mother is so vain, but I guess I should thank her that my ears don't stick out. She used to tape them back to the sides of my head when I was a baby. They don't stick out anymore. My brothers ears do, but he didn't have his ears taped back.

I think face lifts look too tight, and fake breasts look to hard. Ashlee Simpson sure looks pretty with her new nose, but I don't think I could ever put myself in the position where I would allow a person to mess with my looks. Well, maybe if it were Michelangelo, but he's dead.

Yesterday, I had to sit at the airport, waiting to be assigned a trip. I was hoping they wouldn't call me. Actually I was praying. I wanted the weekend off. Everytime the phone rang, I held my breath hoping that my name wasn't called.

After three hours, about fifteen of the twenty flight attendants waiting were called out, Florida, Ireland, Paris, Tel Aviv, any other time, it could have been exciting but I didn't want to fly. There were only five of us left for the rest of the night.

Things were starting to get quiet, and this male flight attendant whom I've never met says to me, "Do you think that the alter boys who didn't get molested think, is there something wrong with me? Why didn't the priest ask me to dig a lollipop out of his pocket?"

After I heard that, I was all ears, finally someone who is as ridiculous as I am. For the record, I told him, "No I don't think the altar boys did develop a complex."

They were fumigating our crew room, and we had to leave and go to operations. That was pretty cool. What a beautiful view of the city. We were up in the tower, watching the planes land. They didn't end up needing us, so we were able to go home.

That was a good waste of four hours. Hopefully one day I will get to fly with that ridiculous guy.

You know those stories about how animals alert humans to danger? All the stories you hear about amazing things that dogs and cats can do to help humans.

Not mine. This morning, I was watching television, and I hear something that sounds like water running. I mute the television, and realize it's the dog and cat wrestling around playing.

I think nothing of it and go back to watching my program. A commercial comes on, and I drag my butt out to the kitchen to do the dishes. I get out there, and the dog and cat are splashing around in about two inches of water playing! My washing machine broke and the kitchen was flooding.

Do you think the dog or cat could have let me know? Do you think the dog could have barked or something? No, they make it their own personal water park. Two hours later, I have all the water cleaned up, and now the dog and cat are sleeping exhausted from playing in the water.

Oh well, at least my kitchen floor is so clean right now it sparkles.

I guess I'm not the marrying type. I'm not one of those women who dreams about the house with the white picket fence. I don't even want that. I think I'd be more content to live in a warehouse. I like my space.

I really thought I was among the minority of women until I went to my cousins wedding. Traditionally when a bride gets married, at the reception she blindly throws her bouquet out to a group of single women. As the tradition goes, whichever woman catches the bouquet, she will be the next to get married.

I didn't even want to get up, but I was poked and prodded until I joined the crowd of about fifty women to go catch the bouquet. My cousin turns away from the crowd, so she couldn't see who she was throwing it to. She tosses her lovely bouquet of flowers into the air, and without any discussion ALL of the women run away from it. The bouquet lands on the floor like a dead rat!

Unbelievable. I remember going to wedding receptions as a child, and the women would fight to catch the bouquet. I guess I'm not the only woman who does not want to get married. Hilarious.

I've been gone for awhile. I have been working a lot and loving it. I have been all over the country, and never had any time to blog about it!

I was in Las Vegas for a few days, and I got to see BODIES...The Exhibition it is incredible! Bodies are preserved with a special technique that allows us a peek inside real bodies. They pose them, and cut them exposing the inner workings of the human body.

Usually when I'm on trip, I hang out with my crew. For some reason, the crew didn't spend any time together, and I was on my own. I enjoy being by myself, so I was happy either way.

I was looking forward to Korean Barbecue. I walked into the restaurant, and they sat me at a table for about twenty people. It was in front of the restaurant, and I was all alone at this gigantic table. There were plenty of tables for two around, but I don't think they thought I was worth sitting at a nice table because I was alone. People kept looking at me, and I was trying to smile, and be polite.

Someone finally brought me a menu, and I kept picturing the food as human organs so I decided to leave. The noodles made me think of intestines, and it wasn't pretty.

So I'm walking around Vegas, looking for something to eat. None of the restaurants appealed to me. I spotted a Denny's. I don't really like Denny's, but you know what you're going to get. No surprises there. At that point, I was only planning on getting a salad anyway.

I went inside, and was seated at a nice little table for two. The waitress came and took my order. Before she left, I asked her where the restroom was, and she pointed it out to me.

I come back from the restroom, and there were two people sitting at my table! I was so mad. They gave my table away! There was a young couple seated at a table near by, and they said, "We knew you were going to be angry!" I was so upset, and said, "Can't a person go out to eat alone without being humiliated?" I was somewhat emotional from seeing BODIES...The Exhibition, just an hour earlier. I saw a pile human skin tanned like leather, and I was feeling quite raw myself.

The couple speaking to me were really sweet and invited me to sit with them. They were in their twenties, and the husband was an amputee. I sat down, and enjoyed their company for the rest of the dinner.

I went from almost crying in front of a restaurant, to laughing and having a good time. I held it together thinking, if this guy can sit in a wheel chair and be this charismatic, I can get over thinking I am so important that my table shouldn't have been given away. It's amazing how I can control my emotions when I don't think the universe revolves around me.

Once I got to Hawaii, I was immeadiately happy. That place is so beautiful. Not to mention, 6000 miles away from the stalker.

I had decided that because I was alone, I should stay at a youth hostel. That way I could meet lots of people. My plan worked.

The first day in Waikiki, I went to breakfast and met a couple of dudes from Seattle and a girl from Quebec Canada, and they invited me on a tour of the island. From that moment on, I never got any time to myself.

The place where I stayed was called The Banana Bungalow. It was a great time. Parties every night. I was real sad when they closed a few years ago. I guess they had hired too many illegal aliens to work there, and had been shut down. But it sure was fun while it lasted.

I was hanging out with my laptop in an Internet Cafe, that was in the the lobby of the Banana Bungalow, called The Fishbowl. The owner and I became friends. He asked me if I wanted a job. I told him no because I was on vacation.

My original time I was planning on staying in Hawaii was only about three weeks. I was having so much fun, and I felt so safe being so far away from my stalker that I kept extending my stay. I ended up extending it to six weeks.

Chris, the owner of the Fishbowl told me if I worked for him, I wouldn't get paid, but I would get a shared room with some of the other staff memebers. The job was easy enough, I could surf the Internet for four hours a day and have a free room. Sold, I took the job.

I got to go to the beach, hang out with new friends, and go to parties at night, it seemed perfect.

There were a lot of people coming and going. It was nice to have my roomates Debbie from Germany and Gus from Brazil. They lived there, they were not just passing through. Debbie is German, but her mother is American. Gus, he is half German half Swedish, but he is Brazilian. That's me and Gus in the photo, at the front desk of what was The Banana Bungalow.

Debbie didn't like to do sports so much, but Gus did, so we mostly hung out. I wasn't interested in him in anything other than a friend. Gus is an interesting guy. His parents and brother died in a car crash when he was eleven years old. Gus had been at his Grandparents house, and his family was in the car on the way to pick him up when they were killed. It was pretty tragic.

I also found Gus interesting because he had been dubbed "The Forest Gump of Brazil." Gus walked the entire coast of Brazil. He admitted to me that he wished he didn't make such a fuss over it, because then all of the newspapers were there documenting it, and his feet hurt and he just wanted to quit. Because of all the news coverage, Gus did it, he finished his walk and earned his new name.

Another intersting thing about Gus is that he was trying to break the Guiness Book of World Records for traveling to the most countries. We had lots to talk about, and I thought he was a good friend.

We decided to take a trip together to Kauai, and that's when it all unravelled.

Right now I am in San Juan, the only working that I am doing is on my tan. I am taking a break from blogging while on vacation, but I wanted to drop this quick post before I forgot the details.

I was so excited to meet Rue McClanahan on Sunday. You know the slut from the Golden Girls?

I was on the plane, doing my best Tina Turner impression, and I think she caught me singing and dancing. Oops! Oh well, she must have liked me because she said, "Well Hello!" And I started jumping up and down and said, "I'm so excited to have you here!" Rue said, "Well, I'm so excited to be here!"

It took all I had not to hug her. She is so sweet and cute. Some celebrities are full of themselves, but not Rue, she is a real Southern Lady.

Yesterday was a hideously long day. It started when I checked in at at the duty desk at 7:45 in the morning, and I wasn't finished until late that night.

Days like that, I'm thankful I'm not one of those flight attendants that work alone.

A first class passenger got out of his seat when we were taxing, because he wanted to use the bathroom. Me, I would say to him, I need you to take your seat. If he didn't, I would let him use the bathroom but I would call the captain to stop the plane. I don't get in the way of a person and a lavatory.

Well, the lead flight attendant, I'm going to call her "T" she was strict! She told the guy to "PLEASE take your seat!" His wife said, "He needs a drink of water", and T said, "I will get him a drink of water if he just sits down! We are on an active taxi way." I'm watching, thinking, he better sit down before she gives him a smack down. His wife then says, "He needs a sick bag! Can you get him a sick bag?" T says, "There is a sick bag in the pocket of the seat, if he would just sit down, he would find it!"

The forward galley flight attendant says, "He's sick he needs a drink. I'm going to help him." T told her, "He should have thought of that before he drank that wine." Then I'm in feeling in the middle, and I put up my hands to say, "Don't look at me, I'm just giving out drinks on the way to my layover." Then I got a piece of gum from another passenger and walked away.

I like working with the public, but I don't fuss too much over them. They are always trying to get away with something. They try to hide that they are listning to their iPods, or are using some other electronic device when they are not supposed to. I'm there to have fun, and to make it fun.

Most of the passengers on the plane were from Japan, and didn't speak English. I am pretty good at figuring out what people are trying to communicate to me, but do you know how much coka and coki (coffee) sound alike? The teacher in me immediately comes out, and I'm demonstrating to half the plane how to pronounce coffee. You say "Coke" for this, and I hold up the can. And "Coffee" for this, and I hold up the pot of coffee. I said, look at me, and I was teaching them to bite their bottom lip to make the sound of the "F". When someone would get it correct, everybody would start clapping. We were having fun.

I was on the bar cart with T, and she wasn't enjoying my English lesson. Her advice was, just give them tea, and then don't make eye contact afterwards, if they're thirsty they'll drink it. She taught me some good tricks to work smart not hard.

It was a long fun day.

A few summers ago, I went to Musikfest with Chanin. Musikfest, is a giant music festival that takes over downtown Bethlehem for about ten days. You can listen to just about any kind of music, and the food is not bad either.

This particular time, I didn't want to go. I had laryngitis. I could not speak one word, not even a whisper. Chanin and I both know how to spell in sign language, so she convinced me it would be OK. I reluctantly agreed to go.

Once at Musikfest we went to grab dinner, the place was packed. There were a few seats open at a table with a rabbi, and a few of his friends. Chanin asked if it would be alright for us to join them, because seating was so limited. We had never seen these people in our life. I nodded my head hello, and they had no idea that I did not have a voice.

We enjoyed our food in silence. The rabbi and his friends, continued in their own conversations. All of a sudden Chanin taps her watch and says, "It's time to get you back to the institution!" The rabbi and friends look at us intently, I open my mouth to object, and all that comes out is a "squeak". Then Chanin proceeds to say, "Don't start to get violent, I will give you that tranquelizor by injection, you know I have done that before." Then she tells the other people, "She's prone to voilence if she doesn't get her meds on time. I need to get her back to the psychiatric unit quickly." I'm waving my hands like crazy trying to communicate, to sign, and the strangers at our table are quickly gathering their things to run away.

They were scared. If you could have seen the looks on their faces. Everything I did just made the situation worse. They quickly left, and Chanin laughed and laughed. I didn't think it was funny until about three days later.

When Chanin and I were still friends, we went out to the club. At the time I was living in Hawaii, and I had come home for a visit.

I was downstairs by the pool tables while Chanin was upstairs dancing. I had a crowd of about 10 people around me because I told one person I lived in Hawaii, and then they were telling everyone else. Everyone was asking me questions, and I was having fun answering.

I don't smoke, but someone offered me a cigarette. I despise cigarettes, but for some reason I started to smoke it. It was stupid I know, but I did it.

Now Chanin, she is very verbally aggressive. She would never hit me or anything, but believe me she talks about it. It's part of her boisterous personality. It fits her, and is somehow her charm.

Growing up, I always told her, "Girl, you have the mouth of a truck driver!" Then I would always go on to say, "You could make a truck driver blush!" Do you know what her job is now? She's a truck driver. And she has made one or two of them blush.

She's like me with travel. We definitely have that in common. We have to travel. She drove her truck up to Canada, from Pennsylvania to California, and all the way down to Mexico. Making friends and enemies the entire way. She is very loved, and very hated all because of what comes out of her mouth. She is brilliantly funny, but it's always at someone elses expense. Not everyone likes that.

Back to the club, Chanin comes walking down the stairs, and sees me with my little crowd of people, and she wants in on the action! Chanin has to have more attention than I do. It's like a competition for her.

Chanin sees me smoking that cigarette, grabs it out of my hand, throws me down on the couch and grabs me by the back of my hair. She puts the cigarette up to my eye and says, "Do you want me to burn your (cuss word) eye out! Do you? Do you? You are such an idiot." She used some other words that I would rather not mention. The people were aghast. One of the guys started to jump in and help me.

It didn't hurt me at all, she didn't want to hurt me, just humiliate me, and I was doing my best to keep from laughing. I knew she was mad at me for smoking, but mostly she wanted the attention. I played along like I was real scared, and she kept ripping into me. The guy that helped me said, "She's from Hawaii!" Chanin said, "She's not from Hawaii, she's from Pennsylvania!" Then she called me some four letter words and a name that ended in "hole". I stood up and composed myself.

I had to pull out my drivers license to prove I lived in Hawaii. There was the rainbow, my picture, and my address ending with Honolulu, Hawaii 96815.

Chanin was trying to make me look bad because she wanted the attention. I know her so well that it was actually fun. I would never do something like that and it felt like I was in a movie.

I don't know if Chanin was listening before she started her antics, but I do know that fake burning someones eye out sure tops Hawaii to the crowd!

She had more than double my crowd watching her antics, and we laughed about it all the way home.

My longest friend, Chanin, whom I loved dearly I had to cut out of my life. I had to do it because as much as I love her, she sucks the life out of me.

She always wants something from everyone and nothing is ever good enough for her. I put up with it because she is never boring.

Regardless, I spent most of my life with her as my friend, so many of my stories need to include her.

I bought a book this weekend from the Images of America series titled "Bath and It's neighbors", and who is on page 93? Chanin and her sister Jennifer. She was four years old, and it was the year I met her.

I see that little face and I remember what she did in Kindergarten one year later.

It was the beginning of the school year, and Chanin dressed herself for school. She put on her new miniskirt. She was so cute and excited to go to school. Her Mother was so proud of how she had dressed herself that morning.

Her Mom took her out to the bus stop and waved as the school bus drove away.

Soon, the bus pulled into the school. It was time for Chanin to get off the bus. When she went to stand up, she stuck to the seat. It was at that time she realized she wasn't wearing any panties! At the tender age of five, Chanin was mortified.

During class, the teacher asked the kids to sit around in a circle for story time. In Kindergarten you had to sit "Indian style" it was the rule. Chanin refused. She did her best to keep that miniskirt pulled down while kneeling during story time.

The teacher persisted, but when Chanin refused and almost broke into tears, the teacher gave in to Chanin's wishes. Phew! She made it through the day without anyone finding out her secret. Talk about trauma!

Today, if she forgot to wear her panties I'm sure she wouldn't keep it a secret. Raaare!

Yesterday I was talking to my boyfriend about how I don't like to drink soda. I really only like to drink water, Green Tea (because it's good for me not for the taste) and the occasional Red Bull. He says I'm the only person he knows that does not like soda.

When I was a kid, my parents always pushed soda on me. I hated it. My sister was given Coke in her bottle. She loved the stuff. I remember going out to dinner, asking the waitress for water, and my parents ordering me a soda instead. I would say, "Please can't I just have water?" I would have to drink that nasty stuff, and when I got home I'd hit the water.

Every time we went out to dinner, my little sister Leanne got a big glass of soda. Every time she knocked that big glass over and it would end up on my Dad. He would get so mad at her! I thought it was hilarious. I would always say, "You should get her water, it wouldn't make such a mess." My sister always spilled her soda because she was hyperactive from all that sugar.

I guess things were different back then or something. I remember going with a friend and her family to McDonalds. We were going through the drive through, and my friends Mom asked me what I wanted to drink, "water" was my reply. She kept asking me over and over, "Are you sure?" I told her "I don't like soda." She looked at me like I had three heads. She came back at me, "How about some Iced Tea?" "No, I like water." Why was that so hard for adults to understand?

When my friends mom ordered my water, she said, "And one water, the kid doesn't like soda. Can you believe that?" It was so embarassing.

My Dad and sister still drink all that soda. To this day, people still tell me I drink too much water and that it "Couldn't be healthy." I often think, would I have liked soda if my parents would have not forced it on me? Hmm... I wonder.

When my parents split up, my Dad didn't take it real well. He turned into a redneck bachelor.

Shortly after my Mother moved out of the house, I went to visit my Dad. I noticed all the screens were out of the windows and there were shot guns lined up next to them.

I asked him, "Dad, what is going on here?" He told me it was target practice. Do you know what a redneck uses for target practice? Groundhogs.

My Dad was shooting groudhogs from his bedroom window! If that ain't a redneck game, I don't know what is.

OK, I am a flight attendant, but this is not my first career. I was and still am (part time) a horse trainer and riding instructor.

I think it's an interesting story, so I thought I might like to tell it...

After High School, I went to college. All through high school I studied art very seriously. I took all kinds of classes and I was extremely passionate about art. For me the next natural step would be to go to an Art School.

Enter, Tyler School of Art. I was accepted to other art schools across the country, but my parents talked me into Tyler because it is in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. You know, close to home.

I had a rough time at school, during my second semester I found a close friend of mine in his dorm room lying in a pool of his own blood after he had slit his wrists. That really messed me up.

Not long after that incident, I was in a position where I could have been shot during a random shooting. It took me quite a few years before I could see a gun again without shaking.

A few other things happened, and I couldn't take it anymore so I decided to drop out of school.

If I have a problem, I need to get my head straight and the best way to do that is to get as far away from the problem as possible. So I moved to Rome, Italy. Why not? In my opinion, Rome is the Art Capital of the world.

I made jewelry during my stay in Italy, and the Italians liked my work. It was like nothing they had seen. It was real simple stuff, I made my own beads and designs. I sold it cheap, but I made enough money to stay for six months.

During my stay in Italia, I went to Amatrice, and on my way there, I saw wild horses. It made me homesick. I missed my horses. The entire time I was away at school I had neglected them. I went home shortly after that with a new for my new career.

I decided, why should I sit on my butt and create art when I was so young? I could do that when I got older and didn't need to be so active anymore. I have always had a difficult time sitting for hours at a desk. Being a perfectionist with my work, I wouldn't sleep for days and I would sit at a project for hours on end.

I told my Parents that I had decided to change my major to horse training. I had the perfect school picked out in Montana, almost 2000 miles away from home. I was excited that I could take skiing there as a class.

Knowing I was a "flight risk" my Father had other plans. He made me a proposal, "If I build you a horseback riding facility with an indoor and outdoor riding arena, and I get you the best training where they could come to our house, would you stay home?" He was going to use my tuition money. We already had the land, the horses, and a small farm.

My Parents are both successful business owners, and neither of them went to college. College in my family was always frowned upon. I love to go to school. It was a difficult decision for me, but who could say no to having a business handed to them?

In the end, it was a very smart decision. I think my college would have been more expensive than the business. I don't teach or train full time anymore. I burned myself out teaching fifty students a week and riding up to seven horses a day. I now only teach and train on a part time basis, so I still get to be active.

I now travel with my job as a flight attendant so I'm no longer a "flight risk" to my family. I get the travel bug out of my system each week while I get paid to do it.

I will graduate one of these days, when I'm older and don't feel like being so active. Until then, I'm content to draw stick figures.

The End.

I don't really believe in UFO's but, you don't have to believe in something for it to exist. I'm not saying they exist, I'm just saying.

With that said, one day I was at the mall. I met this man in his 50's. We got to talking for a little while. At first, I couldn't stop looking at him. I wasn't trying to be rude, I just never saw anyone who looked like him.

He was about 6'6" tall, an albino, and had an off set face. It was offset to the side. He also looked like an amplified version of someone I know, he even dressed the exact same way. Amplified by being taller, a lot more pale, and that offset face.

It was one of those snow days where there is nobody in the mall, and I wasn't going anywhere, so we started talking. I don't know how the conversation turned to UFO's. But what I do know, is he was the one initiating that part of the conversation.

At one part, he told me most people think they see shooting stars when they actually are seeing UFO's. He told me the way to tell the difference is a shooting star doesn't shoot down and then go back up.

I said, "Hey! I just saw a shooting star and that's what it did, it went back up!" He said, "honey, you saw a UFO". I told him, I didn't know about all that, but it was an interesting theory.

I got to thinking it was kind of strange that for the first time in my life I saw a shooting star that shot down and then went back up, I meet a tall albino stranger who talks about aliens and has an offset face all in one week. I'm not saying he was an alien, or I saw a UFO, I'm just saying it's strange.

The only reason I'm writing this is because I'm watching the Travel Channel "UFO's in Illinois" and it has me thinking back to last winter in the mall and it made me go hmm...

I just got back from a four day trip. It felt more like ten days, but that was because of the long days not because of the crew. This was my first time with an all male crew.

I was kind of wondering how this was going to go with me being the only female.

Our crew was motley. The crew members go a bit like this:

The Captain, I didn't meet him until the third leg on the first day, meaning, we went to Boston and back and then just before we left for Chicago, he introduced himself.

The captain was Scandinavian, had a very dry sense of humor, and did not like mornings. He was quite pleasant after 10:00 in the morning.

Our First Officer, he was from Arkansas, and was a good ole boy. He told more redneck jokes than Jeff Foxworthy.

Some of the things he said over the PA system just had us laughing. "If you look out the window on the right side of the plane, you will see the Biggest Hole In America! The Grand Canyon."

The lead flight attendant, he was my favorite. Somehow he managed $20 in tips from straight guys on a two hour flight. He really harassed our first officer. "Here comes our fat first officer! Ha ha ha ha ha." When he found out that the first officer and I were the same age, he wouldn't let it die. "Deanna and the first officer are the same age! Can you believe it!" He was so precious that he got away with anything he wanted.

The first class flight attendant, he was a real practical joker. When the lead flight attendant was walking around with a maxi pad stuck to the back of his pants, that was pretty funny.

Our first class flight attendant also did a lot of impressions. I think from doing all of his impressions, he thought he was a black woman. He is a white man. When the lead flight attendant would make his funny comments, the first class flight attendant would say, "Oh no you didn't!" Or "I know that's right, mmm hmm." Or "Two snaps for that one sister, mmm hmm."

Then there was me. I was there to cheer everybody on with their colorful personalities. There was a lot of laughing, and everyone really liked each other. Because I was the only girl I didn't think I would be comfortable, but I had a blast.

I went to a football game over the weekend. If I see a bunch of girls doing cartwheels, of course I have to go do some too. That always gets me a crowd. Considering I haven't done gymnastics in about a year I went a bit far with some front handspring's, so I'm kind of limping today but that's another story.

I met a bunch of kids running around the game and they started asking me to teach them some gymnastic tricks. One girl in particular, was starving for attention. She was about ten, and a very sweet girl.

We worked on this one skill with her for about a half an hour. I couldn't believe it, but she went from being very afraid to even try it with me spotting her, to doing it by herself!

She went and showed her Mom, her Mom watched, nodded and smiled. Then the kid went to show her Dad. Her Dad barely watched, and then when prompted by his daughter, he said it was "good." He barely looked at her. She worked so hard on that trick.

I felt so bad because here was a child I had only just met and I knew how important something was to her. Her own father had no idea. He wasn't busy, he wasn't doing anything else, he just didn't care.

That is just sad.

Today being the fifth anniversary of September 11, I am glad I have the day off.

Being a flight attendant, I am not afraid of terrorists, but there is an uneasy feeling that would be in the back of my mind if I were to be in the air today.

I have walked through Newark Airport's Terminal A with a flight attendant who stood with me in the exact spot where five years ago he watched the smoke from the twin towers collapsing fill. It's quite sobering to realize we can be gone in one second of time.

I am quite certain that there have been many other failed attacks not only in air travel that the public was not made aware of.

Today as we are remembering those lost their lives in the 9/11/01 attacks, I would like remind everyone to keep their eyes and ears open, you never know who's future you can change just by being aware of your surroundings.

I recently had a three day trip with one of my classmates from training. She put the "trip" in three day trip.

I also met my perfect lead flight attendant on that trip. Her name is Lorrie. We liked all the same food, we worked really well together, and we were both love to dance. So when we were in NYC, we got to take a Hip Hop Class at Broadway Dance Center. It was supposed to be a Jazz Class, but the instructor cancelled at the last minute. Forcing us to take a Hip Hop Class. It was FUN! I'm glad it worked out that way.

Anyway, Heather, my classmate, the night before the first day of the trip, decided to stay up all night because it was an early check in. I had to wake up at 2:15 AM, but I at least had some sleep, by getting to bed by 11:30 PM.

Due to lack of sleep Heather was in rare form. The entire first morning, as we were on our way to Atlanta, she greeted everyone on the plane by saying, "Hi! Ya'll ready to go to Florida?" The people were so worried that they were not going to Atlanta. Then Lorrie, had to go comfort all of the passengers and reassure them that they were not going to Florida, but to Atlanta.

Right before the safety demo, I see heather sit on the arm of the first class seat to ask one business man, "So what are you going to do when you get to Florida?"

The passenger played along because he had already been "debriefed" about the whole Florida thing by Lorrie.

I sat at the airport yesterday waiting for a trip and ran into Heather again. She told me that the other day wasn't the first time that she played the "Florida" trick.

She said on a flight a few months ago, the agent informed her that one more passenger was coming and he was running to make the flight, from a connection.

After the agent left, Heather got on the PA and made an announcement, "There is one more passenger we are waiting for, and he's a friend of mine, I am going to tell him we're going to Florida and not Las Vegas so everybody play along." She didn't know him, she totally made that part up.

He gets to the plane and they close the door. Heather makes her final announcement "Welcome aboard flight 1234 to Fort Lauderdale Florida."

The guy starts panicking and sweating. He tells her he's on the wrong flight. Heather proceeds to tell him that it's too late they have already pushed back and cannot open the door. None of the passengers told him the truth either.

She said she kept him going the entire flight, until she made her final announcement after landing, "Welcome to Las Vegas Nevada!"

She said he called her a name that rhymes with "witch" as he got off the plane.

That's taking a joke to the extreme, even for Heather!

When I see someone who has worked hard and achieved success, I admire it. It's when the success has gone to their head, that the admiration turns to disdain.

I was watching the MTV Video Music Awards the other day, and it kept making me sick to my stomach.

I wanted to watch the awards because of the performances, but the arrogance was out of control. I kept changing the channel back and forth thinking that they couldn't all be so tactless.

They kept using words like, The King of, or The Legendary, the Godfather of, etc then the performer would come out with their ego, larger than life. I just thought it was gross.

A few days after this, Jason Giambi overheard me saying that arrogance didn't impress me. Then he humbly said something that did impress me, "I'm not curing cancer."

I thought, wow, we should all remember that about ourselves. Unless of course we really are curing cancer.

It would be nice if everyone could remember they are no better than anyone else. It doesn't matter how much money someone has or pretends to have like some of some of the performers from the VMA's.

What creates happiness is people. If you are so busy thinking you are so much better than everyone else how can you be happy?

Something to think about.

Friends, you've got to love them. I have different friends for different parts of my personality.

What reminded me of this was, this past week I was in Chicago or "Chi Town" . Which was fantastic by the way! Our crew was picked up at the airport in a stretch limo. Then, we were chauffeured downtown to a very upscale hotel. I love my job.

My friend Yoshi lives in Chi Town. I had not seen him in ages, and I was pretty excited to have some time with my friend. The thing about Yoshi is, he was the person that planted the seed in my head to become a flight attendant. He is a flight attendant for another airline. I didn't think I could do it and he said something like, "Please, it ain't rocket science. You would be good at it."

Yoshi picked me up shortly after I arrived at the hotel. We went out to lunch and hung out for a couple of hours. We laughed the entire time. I don't know what it is about him, but he brings out the comedian in me. I usually not that funny, but when I hang out with him, I'm practically doing stand up. My timing is perfect, I'm doing dead on impersonations of people, and all of a sudden I'm doing these fantastic monologues. Perhaps they are better in my mind than they are in reality but I did have him laughing the entire time.

This brought to mind my other dear friends, and I was thinking about how I act with each one of them. They bring out the best in me in all different areas, with each one making me a better person. Not only do they make me a better person, but they make me value myself.

My advice to anyone is find the friends that add to you and spend more quality time with them, and find the friends that subtract from you and give them less time. It goes both ways and life is too short to not fully enjoy it.

This is kind of embarrassing but, it's funny so here goes...

First of all I'd like to say the restaurants where I live aren't very good. With that said, I was out at dinner with my boyfriend, and all of a sudden, the waiter brings out a glorious plate of nachos to the table behind us.

I was oohing and ahhing licking my lips, saying mmmmmm, that looks good, oh yeah. The nachos were piled so high with steak, avocado, jalapenos, onions, Monterey Jack and Cheddar Cheese.

In my defense, avocados and jalapenos are my favorite food. My boyfriend is all, "Can you control yourself?" I'm like, "Look at that would you! It looks so good."

Then I realize what he is talking about, it's a table full of guys that ordered the nachos, and they were all thinking I was talking about them! They were trying to get my attention after that, smiling at me, and trying to say hi.

Talk about embarrassing!

Sometimes you just know when it's OK to do something that should otherwise be forbidden.

I was in New York City with a friend of mine. We went to the comedy club and were walking back to my car alone at 2:00 in the morning in Manhattan. We were trying to flag down a taxi without any luck.

We had about twenty blocks to go, and a Lincoln Town Car pulls up beside us, and a bunch of Latino guys wearing tuxedos asked us if we would like a ride. It was like a party car, with music blasting and they smelled really good.

My friend, who had never been to New York City before said "No thank you". She thought they were gangsters. I said, "They are wearing tuxedos, give me a break. Gangsters wear suits. Let's go with them, we're safer in the car with them than walking alone here in our high heels."

There were three of them in the front, and we sat in the back. They were so nice. It turns out the guys were a salsa band from Brazil. They were playing their CD, we were jamming out to their salsa music, and they even had autographed posters of themselves that they gave to us.

I knew she got the gangster idea from watching Scarface, so I told my friend, see they are from Brazil not Colombia. She just laughed and was glad we took the ride.

Before they dropped us off, they extended an invitation to have their limo pick us up for their performance in the Bronx the following Friday.

We politely turned it down not wanting to push our luck, but that was so much more fun than taking a taxi!

So I was on a flight the other day, and there was this customer... He was so needy. He wouldn't stop ringing his flight attendant call button.

Ding! I run over to see what he needs. "Could I have a tissue?" I get him a tissue. Five minutes later, Ding! "I could really use a Coke." I get him a coke. Five minutes after that, Ding! Can you take away my trash? This went on a few more times, pretzels, water, a blanket, a pillow. He was working my last nerve, but I kept a smile on my face.

Myself and another flight attendant had finished our service and were in the back galley chatting and eating our lunch. Ding! I look out into the cabin and Mr. Needy had rang his call button again. I said, "I'm not running out there, he can wait until I finish eating." I was almost finished eating anyway.

About three or four minutes later I went out to see what he needs. He motions me to come close. I move in closer to hear him. He asks me to come closer and I'm thinking if this guy is going to try and kiss me he's got another thing coming.

He whispers in my ear, "I need oxygen, FAST!" He's about to pass out, and he is sweating profusely. Oh crap! I ran and grabbed a portable oxygen bottle in two seconds flat, strapped that baby on him and got him stabilized. I never had to administer oxygen before. Whew!

I felt bad that I had made him wait until he was ready to pass out, but if he didn't use that call button to ask me if he had any broccoli in his teeth I may have been more eager to see what he needed. So now I call him, "The Man Who Cried Wolf."

I was driving over to the barn today, and as I was driving up the street, I noticed all the construction.

It made me sad because they were chopping down the trees that I used to climb, and putting houses in the fields where I have always ridden my horses.

When I was growing up, there were only four houses on that street, and the street was a dirt road. They paved it when I was about ten years old. At that time I wished there were more kids in the neighborhood, I had not realized the gift I had been given of growing up surrounded by farmland.

A memory that popped into my head today as I was driving, was of me and my two childhood friends Chanin and Jennifer. We were so happy that our road was paved! Now we could ride our bikes on a smooth road!

We would meet about halfway between my house and theirs, and along the way we would always find white sidewalk chalk on the side of the road. We would be so happy, drawing on our newly paved road, remarking "Who is leaving us this chalk here all the time? It's so great!" This went on for about a year.

Then one day, we found a piece of chalk, and it was half white and half brown. It was that day that we found out who was leaving us the chalk. It was Poochie, a Jack Russell Terrier that lived at the farm down the street!

Our sidewalk chalk was Dog Poop! We were so grossed out, we never wrote with that chalk again.

The other day, I was riding in the car with my Sister and her four kids. I was telling my sister Leanne a story about a guy who did something terrible.

When I finished the story my sister exclaimed "Why would he do such a thing!"

Because the kids were in the car I decided to spell out the bad word. I said, "Because he is a B-A-S-T-A-R-D."

My oldest niece who is nine, turned to me and said, "I can spell!" I said "Uh oh, I'm sorry I shouldn't have used that word." I then said, "At least none of the other kids can spell." Just then my other niece, Alexa who is eight said to me, "Annie, (the kids call me Annie) did you say he was a (and she spelled) A-S-S-H-O-L-E?"

My face turned bright red, and all my sister and I could do was laugh. I will never spell a bad word in front of kids again!

I've been wanting to do this for awhile now. Whenever I mention my family to any of my friends, they can never get it straight. I have to explain for a half an hour and they are still confused.

Then, I had a request for a "Flow Chart", and I thought, hey, what a great idea...

I know, you're probably thinking, why do you need a flow chart? Read on, and you will see why.

My Biological Mother: Susan
Born to an Italian Father, and a Polish Mother, so she is half Italian, half Polish.

Not so bad.

My Biological Father: Dave
Born to a Polish Father, and an Italian Mother, so he is half Italian, half Polish.

Making me half Italian, half Polish, sounds simple right?

When I was three, my parents divorced, my mother remarried, "Larry" who is 100% Pennsylvania Dutch. He adopted me by age 5. So whenever I say "Dad" that's who I am talking about. My Dad is Dutch, but I'm not, and now that explains that question.

Larry had a son from a previous marriage named Gary. So that is one brother.

Then, my Mother and Father (Larry) had my Sister, Leanne. So when I tell people my sister is Dutch, but I'm not, that explains the question. "But you have the same Dad???" "Yeah, but I'm half Italian, and half Polish."

It still wouldn't be so difficult to understand, but when I turned 21,my parents divorced, and my biological parents remarried, making me now have a "biological stepfather". Very strange I know. I call him Dave, because I don't know him as a father at all. I hadn't seen him for 18 years. It's all good, he's just not my Dad.

Dave remarried a 100% Pennsylvania Dutch woman when he and my Mother initially split up when I was three. Her name is Roxanne.

Roxanne and Dave (the biological step father) had three boys, Dave Jr., Dominick, and Derrick, so that's four brothers and one sister SO FAR.

Try to keep up here, because after my Mom and Dave remarried, my Dad did too.

He married Kerry, who is Italian and Pennsylvania Dutch, just how much of each I'm not sure. It doesn't really matter anyway, but it's part of the pattern.

Kerry had a daughter from a previous relationship named Rachel. My Dad adopted Rachel (just like me) so now I have two sisters. I don't know Rachels biological fathers name, but I bet it starts with an R. See a pattern here? That was good of the parents to help us out by matching the first letter of the child's name to the birth Fathers name. Well, except for Gary, but it rhymes with Larry, so it still helps.

But then... My Dad and Kerry had Larissa, my next sister, and finally about two months ago, Lucy was born, making my fourth sister.

Whew... So Kerry's my Stepmother, Larry's my Dad, Susan is my Mother, and Dave is my biological Stepfather.

I have four brothers (three half brothers, one by my adoption) and four sisters (one half sister and three by adoption) and I think that about covers it.

One thing I almost forgot, Kerrys Sister is married to my Cousin Joey. He's my "cousin uncle". That is another situation I always have to explain.

It's actually not as bad as it sounds. Joey's Mother is my maternal Aunt and Liz is my Stepmothers Sister, so they're not related. Once my Mom and Dad divorced, I guess Joey wasn't my Dad's nephew anymore.

My Grandparents were never divorced. None of them. All three sets of them remain or remained married.

What a difference a generation makes. Any questions?

This is a locust that I found in my garden. I think it's a 17 year locust. If it is, this poor little guy toiled underground for 17 years before he made his way to the surface.

He was there for a day, then the next day I went to look for him again, and all I could find was his exoskeleton. There was a puncture in the middle of his body, and his exoskeleton was perfectly intact.

I don't know if a bird ate him or he molted. Do they molt?

Then if it weren't already bad enough, I left his skeleton in the garden for my nieces to see, and they thought it was the coolest thing. That's not the bad part, the bad part is, a storm came and blew what was left of him away! 17 years of work down the drain.

I was so irritated with myself for not putting it into a jar or something. I wanted to show off the picture of him when he was alive. I'm glad I got to see something so ugly and cool, and now you can too.

I was talking with my daughter and somehow in our conversation I mentioned that I would like to maybe someday I would like to have another child. My daughter replied with "But Mommy, you hate kids!"

That took me aback because I love kids. Sure, it's funny when they fall down, or if they are whining and I see them get punished by their parents. But that's just fun stuff, nothing serious. I go all teary eyed when I see abusive parents.

I asked my daughter why she felt that way, and she said, "well you hate Kyla". Kyla is my 18 month old niece. I told her I don't hate her I love her! She is just naughty, but that's not her fault, it's my sisters fault because she lets her get away with it.

The exact incident can probably be traced to the other day my sister brought Kyla to my house. I'm an avid gardener, I've got flowers and plants everywhere. I like to grow things from seeds. I had some seeds starting in pots, and Kyla was dumping the pots as my sister looked on. I was chasing after Kyla for about a half an hour, I sat down on the hammock to relax, and Kyla grabbed the rosebush.

I couldn't get it out of my mouth fast enough "NO!" The thorn went right into her finger, and she was attached to my rosebush and couldn't get her finger off of the thorn.

My sister ran over and pulled her finger off with a "pop" and blood spurted through the air. I was laughing and saying to her, I told you not to touch things at Aunt Deanna's house. You need to listen.

I always laugh at inappropriate times, it was nothing personal. My daughter watched in horror, and told me I was being mean. I guess that's why she thinks I hate kids.

I went to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada yesterday and it was a celebrity laden flight. I've been to three countries and five states in the last six days.

We had The Dixie Chicks and Alicia Silverstone on board. I got everyone's autotgraphs and I told Alicia that I loved her. Did I go to far? I hope she understood I meant I loved her work, and not her personally. She is just so expressive with her face just like in Clueless, and so sweet. I felt like I was in a movie. The Dixie Chicks were very nice too.

The first officer was so funny, he said, "They just look like regular people." We were teasing him that there is no red carpet on the plane, and that hello, they are just regular people.

Times like that, I wish I had my camera!

I'm checking in to my hotel, and in walks a blind baseball team. They are holding 40's of beer in one hand, and canes in the other.

These people are drunk, laughing, and bumping into things shouting "This is the blind leading the blind!"

At first I thought it was funny. Hey, they were having a great time. What I didn't know is that they would be on my floor. They were so loud all night, their canes kept hitting my door, and the worst part of all they kept trying to get into my room accidentally! They would knock on my door and wake me up every fifteen minutes. It was the same story every time, "wrong room!" There is Braille on the door, but I guess they were too drunk to read.

Prior to that I went up to the crew room in the hotel. In walks this flight attendant from another airline, she flops down on the couch and says "What a day! I saw a complete stranger take a sh*t today."

At that moment I was sitting at the computer taking a drink of my water, when she said that I spit the water out of my mouth all over the floor. I was lucky it didn't come out my nose.

"What!" I said. She said, you know how people sometimes don't lock the door, we all nodded yes. "Well this guy was in the lavatory with the door unlocked, I opened the door and there he was wiping his a*s." She said she just said "sorry" and closed the door.

You know, I think I would rather be aggravated by drunk people than to have that happen.

Just got back from Cancun, and was that place fun! I went on a snorkel tour with AquaWorld.

They take you through a national park and get this, IN THE OCEAN. I swam with a baby sea turtle, held star fish, and sea urchins, and I saw about 150 different fish. It was soooo amazing.

Anyway, that's not the story here. The crew was going to be meeting for dinner in the hotel lobby at 6:00 (PM). Our van was scheduled to pick us up at 5:40 the next morning, so we still had almost twelve hours left.

We are sitting in the lobby, and here comes the captain in FULL uniform and all of his luggage. He went to the front desk to check out and Caroline, another flight attendant says "Bud?" With a complete look of bewilderment on her face. She's thinking he got reassigned and had to leave early. Bud says, "Where's the van!?!" We're in plain clothes mind you. Caroline says, "The van is not picking us up until tomorrow. I don't know about you, but we're going to dinner."

Doh!

Bud had fallen asleep and thought it was 6:00 the next morning and he was late! I think all the kids swimming in the pool should have tipped him off that it wasn't morning.

I've already had that happen where I took a nap and was confused about what day and time it was, but I didn't get into my uniform and go check out of the hotel!

Good thing we were in the lobby or he would have ended up at the airport.

Yesterday I ran into my friend Noe in Houston. I was telling another flight attendant about the first time we met, and I realized, hey, "this would be a good blog post".

So it's my very first flight after training. I check in at the duty desk like two hours early. I'm relaxing in the crew room reading a magazine, and I look at my pairing (schedule) and see the time says 1400 so I'm thinking I need to be on the plane by 2:00 PM, I figure I would go about a half an hour early.

So I get to the gate and the flight is already boarding! I freak out and the phone on the jetway rings, it's scheduling. They are scolding me asking me what is wrong with me. I was supposed to have been on the plane a half an hour ago.

Oops, 1400 was departure time. It was my first flight, I didn't know! I get on the plane, and I'm sweating, and almost in tears. The lead flight attendant introduces himself to me as J.R. His real name is Noe, and I like that name so that is what I chose to call him.

I was so upset, I knew the guy for about a minute and he puts out his arms to give me a hug. I say "hold me!" So he gently put my head on his belly as he was patting my back telling me it's OK. (He's way taller than me.)

I wiped the sweat off of my brow, took a deep breath, and we were bonded forever. We never exchanged numbers, and we are both in different bases, but somehow bump into each other all the time with a new fun story to tell.

And that is my friend Noe.

I was in Las Vegas this weekend. I was expecting glamour. Not so much. It was 112 degrees. I couldn't hardly walk the strip because I thought I was going to pass out. It was 9:00 at night!

There was a breeze, but the wind was HOT, so it didn't help. Then I realized, I am in the middle of the desert. Oh well, you live you learn.

I found out Kevin Federline was there, shooting his new video at Pure. Too bad I found that out after I got back to the East Coast. That may have proved interesting.

Note to self:
Don't go to Vegas in the Summer, and read Pink Is The New Blog before I go anywhere cool.

You know what they say about people on the East Coast. They say we're rude, but really were just sick.

So today I went to Dutch Springs. I should have known it was going to be extreme when I had to sign a waiver just to get into the Aqua Park.

It's pretty cool. It's a quarry and in the swimming area it's 50 feet deep. You can kayak, snorkel, scuba dive, and play on all of the blow ups. There are huge blow up glaciers you can climb and jump off of. Kids were climbing up them and then falling down on other kids heads. It was fun to watch them climb and then to see their chins bounce off of the climbing handles as they plunged down the side of the glacier leaving a pile of kids in the water.

I was waiting for Med-Evac. Never happened, surprisingly. So many people were getting hurt. I did see someone being carried away with a swollen ankle.

The best part is, it's people of all ages. They don't separate the little kids from the big ones or even the adults for that matter. Everyone was just going wild. Kids wrestling with adults (strangers), big kids launching little kids into the air, flipping around in circles and screaming bloody murder as they belly flopped into the water.

There were these two kids, about 15 years old, one of them met two other kids about five and six years old. The big kid, called his friend over and told him they were going to launch the little guys into the air. The biggest kid says "I'm launching the one in the yellow life vest, and you're launching the one in the red." Then his friend said, "But I want the one in the yellow, he's smaller." As he points to the tiny five year old.

So, the six year old jumps off of the tower, and onto the launch pad, he crawled to the end, and then the five year old jumped down to launch him. The two big boys were up top fighting over the five year old.

So Tiny Tim jumps off of the tower and his six year old friend just bounced a little. He didn't launch. Then the older boy is yelling to the six year old "GET OFF! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He wanted to be launched, so he was waiting for someone bigger to jump down off of the tower. So the six year old gets off the launch pad, and the five year old moves into his position. His new teenage friend says, "Are you ready?" Tiny Tim nods, With all of his strength this big kids jumps and launches the kid 30 feet in the air doing cartwheels into a group screaming people. "SPLAT"

It doesn't get much better than this.

The life guards came over to check that he was OK, but he was busy choking on water.

This place is great, I highly recommend it. It's better than watching those Japanese programs where they run into walls, and roll down hills, and do all of that crazy stuff.

I never realized before that when I get nervous, I have fits of the giggles. Uncontrollable giggles.

I was the lead flight attendant, and we were on this 737-500 that doesn't have monitors. You need to do a manual safety demo. I know, how old fashioned!

Even before the safety demo I started saying the most stupid stuff. Like, the plane is under the control of the captain. Huh? And that people had safety cards in their pockets, and that they needed to sew their cell phones.

As I'm saying these stupid things I'm giggling over the PA non-stop. At one point, the entire plane was laughing at me. I felt so embarrassed. The more nervous I became, the more I giggled. Tears were streaming down my red face as I would almost hyperventilate from the laughter.

One of the flight attendants would laugh every time I said "Thank You" because she said I sounded like Paris Hilton. Then, another flight attendant came up to me and said a passenger said "I hope the whole crew isn't drunk!" I felt like a fool and laughed harder and louder. It was awful!

Later, passengers were confronting me about it. I was told it was cute by one, given a gift from another (a helicopter pin), and received a hand shake and told I was "cool" from another. That made me feel better.

So if you're ever flying and some fool is on the PA laughing and saying "Thank You" in a baby voice, it's probably me. Just remember I'm not drunk, just nervous.

Today was an unusual day. Things were just going down hill. I couldn't stop laughing though. Nothing bothered me.

I am on this five day trip with one of my friends. She always makes me laugh! Today when we were on our way to Tampa, she was telling me how every time she opens a can of tomato juice it sprays all over her hand. She asked me if that happens to me. I said, "Nope, never."

Well, the next thing I know, a customer asks for a tomato juice. I open the can and it sprays all over his FACE. I pointed at my friend Odemaris, and said I'm sorry it's her fault! I never had that problem until she mentioned it! Then, Odemaris says, "Yeah, I was talking about my hand, not someone's face!" I'm laughing uncontrollably, so is she and all the rows around this guy with Tomato Juice on his face.

Thankfully he was a good sport. I felt bad, but it didn't stop me from laughing. He was laughing too. I'm going to be more careful with that Tomato Juice from now on.

That is what I say at the end of every flight. I take it back! I take it back!

I've been home for five days now and it's sucking the life out of me. Get me back on a plane! I don't even care if it's a 737 with a slimy girt bar.

Don't get me wrong, I love having my kitchen and cooking up a storm and all, but there are only so many ways to cook chicken.

My last trip was to Punta Cana Dominican Republic, then Miami, and on to NYC. I miss my maid service! I want to live out of my suitcase. I don't need all that crap in my closet at home.

I ate goat in Punta Cana. I forgot that I don't like it. It had that hairy odor. Did you ever smell goat hair? It smells something like I imagine Bigfoot to smell like.

The Dominican Republic has this fabulous fruit there. It tastes like a sour patch kid covered in snot. Not that I know what snot tastes like, but you know, the slimy consistency of it. By the end of the trip I was addicted to it. They said it was called chenola. I don't know if I'm spelling it correctly. But I sure am hungry for it again.

I get so depressed when I am at home. Boo hoo, nobody is paying me to kayak or lay on the beach. I can't wait to get back to work on Sunday, I wonder where I'll go.

I was in Puerto Rico the other day. I went to the beach with another flight attendant.

We're walking the beach and there is a dude in a thong. Ewww. We just kept walking, somewhat disgusted. When it was time to turn back, we eventually came to the thong guy again, and he's naked! This is a family beach it's no nude beach.

The girl I was with says, "Mira! Put some clothes on. That's offensive! If you had something to show then maybe, but you got nothin''." He's all, why? Then he bends over to pick up a shell. He was facing us, but not with his face, dude!

This girl, she's pretty, her voice is a little gruff, she has this strong New York accent. She's muscular and in shape too. Not overly muscular, but she's in shape.

With that said, we are at the beach and this little boy says to me, "is that a man?" I look around thinking I know he's not talking about her. I'm like huh? Then the boy says to her, "Hey! Are you a man?" She says, no! Why? Do I look like a man?" The boy says "yeah." I can't contain myself and I'm laughing like crazy. She says, "I'm not a man, but I think that I better get off this beach now!"

The kid was cute and she thought it was funny. I think I would have cried. I left Puerto Rico with the worst sunburn of my life, but I haven't laughed so hard in ages.

I stopped in at Taco Bell last night on my way home from work. It's my favorite Taco Bell because they put pride into the way they prepare the food.

It's like your home, you walk in, all the girls are so cheerful and ask how I am doing. I'm waiting for my burrito and smiling. One of the girls comment "We're really busy tonight!" I'm just ready to say "It's busy because you gals do such a good job!"

Before I can get that out of my mouth I hear a voice from the back of the kitchen yell, "That's because people are so stinkin' lazy and don't know how to cook!" I'm taken aback and don't know whether to be offended or to say true that.

Oh well, he was probably the manager. The girls there are still really nice. For the record, I do know how to cook and I'm not lazy, I was still 45 minutes away from home and really hungry, so there.

I'm back in PA again, and let me tell ya, it's a crazy place.

I went to Domestic Relations today, and it went a little something like this. I go through security and I see two dudes being led out in hand cuffs. They looked real scared, and the police brought them through so close to me, they could have head butted me if they had wanted.

I get inside and a chick with two kids who looked about sixteen was crying her eyes out because of her loser boyfriend.

There are some other guys in there waiting to be seen. The guys were all in there because Amnesty given to anyone with a bench warrant for back child support. The amnesty dates are March 20-24 2006. After the amnesty dates are passed, the people with the warrants will be found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Basically, Amnesty means they are safe and they do not have to pay their fines.

The Dads who were waiting got their pictures taken and then, the next thing I knew, hand cuffs were slapped on them. Now I don't know what the circumstances were, they could have had other warrants out for something else, but every single one of them was thrown into prison.

There was one guy left when I was leaving, and the last thing I could hear him saying was, "Is this going to happen to me too? If I go to jail I will lose my job." These guys put the "p" in poor, I'm telling ya, it was scary. I would have been surprised if they could read. Sad.

That in a nutshell was my Domestic Relations Experience.

Hi There!

I've been gone for awhile, and I wanted to check in. Things are going quite well. I'm in training for my new job.

Training is INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT and I have a new respect for flight attendants. Yep, I'm going to be a flight attendant.

I have a few more tests to take and I should be graduating at the beginning of next month.

Traveling has always been a passion of mine, and I decided it was time to get paid to do it.

I am focusing so strongly right now that I'm not even myself, but after graduation and I start flying I should have some
interesting stories to tell.

Until then, I'm going to be studying. I'm not hired until they pin my wings on my polyester blend blazer.

Deanna

I have been posting a bit less lately. I am nursing my injuries, and concentrating on my career, or lack there of.

I am trying my best to excel in my current job, and at the same time, expanding my business, buying a house and hopefully making a major career change.

This blog is my favorite thing to do, so in order to keep it that way, I am going to be taking a small break.

Unless I get the new job, then I will be going away for a month of training and probably won't be able to blog until I get back.

Wish me luck!

Deanna

Is it just me, or have women sunk to a new low on The Bachelor? I never really liked the show but this season is beyond pathetic.

One man is a god, and all of the women vie for his attention. He gets a license to fool around with as many women (who have no self esteem) as he pleases while they all cry for him.

Some highlights from last nights show. "He's a doctor! I can't believe it! He's so hot!" There are thousands of doctors, OK? If you really want to marry a doctor, I'm sure it's not that difficult.

One of the women, Allie G, she is also a doctor, she told the Bachelor, Travis, "I'm in the reproductive phase of my life, and if you have the same goals, pick me."

I know she is an Oncologist, but do be so clinical! Allie G did not get a rose from The Bachelor.

Personally, I would have said, "Go up to your room, grab your bags and take your dry eggs on the next plane back to the USA. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars."

She spent the last fifteen years working on her reputation and career, to have it crushed to smithereens in fifteen minutes. She may have been trying to fool us all, and get a spot on The Surreal Life.

I don't know if I can stomach this show next week, but for this week, it was a train wreck I couldn't take my eyes off of!

Image from ABC's The Bachelor

I have been on a diet, one of my New Years Resolutions of course. For Inspiration, I look to Victoria Beckham. She was always beautiful, even as a Spice Girl.

Now, she really looks like a million bucks even when dressed completely casual. Maybe it has something to do with her millions of bucks.

Lots of people trash her, and all I can say to that is Haters!

I'm not one to blow compliments up celebrities butts, but she always looks impeccable, and I was wondering how one human being could be so perfect.

Now I know, Victoria is said to spend $5000 a week on hair extensions, and $500 on a hair cut. I can only imagine the price tag on the rest of her beauty regime. (source)

Posh was quoted as never having read a book in her life, so the minute she dictates a book, I'll be the first one in line to buy it.

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I don't know what is wrong with this template, but I guess blogger is having some issues. I cannot fix it so that my picture is in the proper place.

I changed the templates numerous times to try and fix this issue, and it's not working.

I will be working on a fix, sorry for the wack appearance of the site.

Deanna

(Image from hollywoodrag.com)

We all know the basics, don't talk with your mouth full, no elbows on the table, chew your food properly.

That's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about aesthetics. I'm talking about people looking like dinosaurs devouring chickens.

Lately I have been noticing how ugly people look when they eat. I now have sound effects going through my head when I see people with their giant chomps, rips, and huge bites.

It all started with when I was watching Oprah's Favorite Things show.

Whenever they put the camera on the audience, they looked so hideous when they were eating! Giant bites, food falling down their chins, laughing as food fell out of their mouths. Chewing with the ugliest look on their faces on National TV!

I was like, dag! I hope I don't look like that when I eat. I hope I at least look dignified when I'm eating and not like some rabbit dog.

Nicole Richie looks so bizarre when she eats. I don't think it has anything to do with her supposed eating disorder. Girlfriend just needs a mirror.

So here is my idea. I am going to put a mirror in front of my kitchen table, and watch myself when I eat to make sure I don't look ugly. I think that would be a good way for parents to teach their kids to eat pretty.

Remember your first date? Remember how nervous you were at dinner. Yeah, me too. I ordered the soup to keep it simple.

So go prop up a mirror in the kitchen and we can make this world a prettier place, one bite at a time!

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I wrote a blog post yesterday, published it, and it was on the site. Somehow it has vanished. It is totally gone. It was there. Strange!

Maybe it happened after my blog was transmitted into space. Maybe it was the "aliens". Or maybe the Russians!

On November 25, 2005 Blog In Space, deemed my blog "Most likely to be contacted".

On December 28, 2005 my blog was then transmitted into space and now my post disappears. Hmm...

I'm sure it was just Blogger having some issues, or maybe my computer, but it is funny how it just disappeared.

If you would like your blog to be transmitted into the abyss, go to bloginspace.com , type in your URL and submit.





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2005 has rapidly ended, I took stock of why and how I did things.

My Main Resolutions for 2006:

1.To continue to get things that bother me out of my head and onto my blog. My little tiny way to try and make this world a better place.

2.To focus on what I want to stop doing instead of only what I need to start to do.

3.To work less, and enjoy my life more.

4.To stop post-poning my engagement and finally get married! (I've been changing the date for the last three years due to my excessive work schedule!)

If I change number 3, number 4 will be automatic.

These are just a few of my resolutions, but my most important ones. I now feel refreshed from taking a few days off and will be back to my daily blogging full force!

No matter how unreachable your goals may seem, once you write them down your mind will find a way for you to reach them.

I extend a challenge to anyone who reads this to go to futureme.com and send yourself an e-mail to be delivered in the future.

List your goals and resolutions for 2006 to be delivered to your inbox on January 1, 2007.

I will be posting the results of my e-mail time capsule goals next year on the blog.

If you want to participate in this challenge, I ask if you could put a reminder in your e-mail to visit this blog at thedhidaily.com, or Email me
to let me know what happened with your goals. You don't have to give details of the individual goals, just your thoughts on the results.

This year, as I write my list of goals and resolutions for 2006 I am going to ask myself the following questions:

What is it that I need to stop doing?
What is it that I am doing, that I should continue to do?
What is it that I am not doing now that I need to start doing?
What is it that I really want?

2006 is a New Year, and a New Beginning. Even if you have already written your goals, I challenge you to do this e-mail time capsule, the results may surprise you.

What do you have to lose?

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