Things That Make You Go Hmm...

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.