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.