That's What She Said...Again

A few months back, I compiled a brief list of random FB "check-in's" from my travels over the last few years.  Since it was so popular the first time around, I thought I would throw another one together for all of you to recall the ridiculousness that is me while I work.  Enjoy!  

******

"Mission: eat as many types of potato foods as possible. 
ACCEPTED" — at Boise. Airport.

"I'm wearing a white button down while rocking red lipstick, drinking fruit punch and eating ketchup. Not liking these odds..." — at Detroit Metro Airport (DTW).

"I feel all special and stuff when a passenger asks to take a pic with me. Like a famous person sans all the Botox, nice cars and loads of money! Yeah!" — at Salt Lake City International Airport (SLC).

"Jetiquette for today: I don't need to know about your infected cervix or that you stopped somking joints with your boyfriend because he has a cold sore. Those are private conversations and the seats in an airport at a gate are a very public place. I can hear you...try as I might to tune you out..." — at La Gaurdia Airport.

"Home!!! I don't have to smell Bloody Mary mix, wear polyester, use hairspray, or practice patience for 4 glorious days!!!!!" — atDetroit Michigan International Airport.

"You sure have on a lot of red today". Thanks Capt Obvious. I also have on a lot randomly spattered food, tomato juice, baby spit and some sticky substance I hope is chocolate. I'm too tired and gross to even roll my eyes at you. Shoo. — at Cincinnati International Airport.

"Group of teenage boys start checking me out and talking about how they would like to "hit that". 
Me: "you need to have some respect for your elders...and pull up your pant while you're at it." All without breaking stride. 
^see above for the exact moment when I realized I am turning into my mother. Shit." — at Salt Lake City Intntl. Airport.

"I won't consider you legit until you run 200 yards in heels and a red dress, pulling 50 lbs of luggage all without messing up your hair. Get on my level." — at Detroit Metro Airport (DTW).

"Stopped in the bathroom to fix my lipstick and hair when a woman in her 50's approached me to let me know I was "very beautiful". Little did she know I was having a bad day and feeling sort of down about myself and needed the smile. Random acts of kindness are the best." — at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.

"When you're this tired, there are no witty check ins. 
Zell, out." — at Pensacola International Airport.

Passenger: "can I ask you a question? Are the Delta girls required not to stink?"
Me: "uhhhh....good hygiene is highly encouraged yeah...?"
Passenger: "I am not trying to be weird. It's just that all if you always smell so GOOD!"
....only in Portland lol. — at Portland International Airport.

"Heading to Paris. Again. Pretty sure it's a sign I'm supposed to live there. Will keep an eye out for husbands while cramming crepes in my mouth." — at Newark Liberty International Airport.

"Trying to decide which would be the lesser of evils...a zombie apocolypse or working this next flight." — at Memphis International Airport.

"If you want to hate someone I'm about to volunteer.....I can take it while sitting on the beach with the boys for the rest of the day!"— at Ft Lauderdale Intl Airport.

"This guy tried 3 times to sneak into first class. Not on my watch, buddy! Eyes like a hawk..." — at Lambert Saint Louis International Airport.

"Days like today remind me why I carry a wine opener with me..."— at Chicago O'Hare International Airport.

"Dear TSA:
It is a freaking corkscrew. And it is right in the bottom front pocket exactly where I told you it would be. Thanks though for spending 10 MINUTES tearing apart my flight bag, hope you had fun making the entire thing a mess. As always, totally impressed by your dedication to hiring only the brightest and the best." — at JFK - John F. Kennedy International Airport.

"Walk on left, stand on right. Apparently this is the hardest of concepts...." — at Minneapolis/Saint Paul International Airport.

"Here's to you nice guy who helped me with my bags. You are the last of a dying breed. Chivalry is always a good look, gents!" — atDetroit Metro Airport (DTW).

"Hi, my name is Angie and I spill tomato juice on people. Either this proves my theory that tomato juice is the devil or everyone else's theory that I'm klutzy. 
Crap." — at Las Vegas Intl Airport, Nevada.

I see you day 3....in order to keep myself entertained I'm going to think of ways to torment the pilots. They're gonna love it, I'm sure! — at Philadelphia International Airport.

"Still in denial that I'm awake..." — at Charleston International Airport.

"I wish I could get in touch with Angie from 7 days ago, I would ask her where she parked her ride...." — at Detroit Metro Airport (DTW).

"I'm dreaming of fleece pants and a warm bed...." — at Buffalo Niagara International Airport.

"Time to open up a hurt locker on some lobster. I see you New England." — at TF Green Airport (PVD).

....and let's not forget my constant search for true happiness...

...or that time Chemistry class FINALLY came in handy (15 years later)....

Wrestling With My Emotions...

Ok, ok...so I have a mildly amusing story for those of you that know & love me (or for those of you that just love to hear a good story of a flight attendant acting a hot mess)...

So last Sunday, I was finishing up my workday with a deadhead (I already explained what this is once, so go ahead and Google it at this point as punishment for not reading every singly one of my blogs thus far) from ATL-BNA.  There I was just chilling in my seat, eating my chocolate covered gummy bears and reading the latest InStyle (fell in love with an amazing pair of gold D&G sunglasses by the way) when I looked up to see this VERY tall and VERY built guy taking up pretty much the entire aisle.  Now, for those of you that don't know me...I am *slightly* boy crazy...and my weakness is tall.  Especially tall with big muscly arms!  Mr. Tall Muscly Arm Man sat down in the seat across the aisle from me & since I wasn't feeling very witty (or pretty due to the fact I had to get up at 4AM for work) I went back to reading my magazine & figured I would just sneak glances of him here & there during the flight to give my eyes something fun to do.  Then I noticed a theme...there were a plethora of tall, muscly men getting onto the plane.  I looked down & noticed I was still clad in wool & polyester, so immediately ruled out that I had died & gone to heaven, therefore decided something must be up.  After staring at each of the tall, good looking guys as they walked past me (it was a tough job, but someone had to do it), I realized some of them had WWE zip up's on.  In the meantime, the flight attendant next to me in the window seat was giving my tall neighbor (Mr. Tall Muscly Arm Man to you) a good ribbing in her cheeky British accent (UGH...like I can compete with THAT) and somehow she ended up getting me involved in the convo too; so of course we asked him what was up.  Apparently they are all WWE wrestlers & were headed back from London over to Nashville for Monday Night Raw (or Smackdown...or whatever that Monday night show is...clearly I am not a fan).  

Long story short, we got in flight and cheeky British accent FA got busy doing something else & I went back to coveting the D&G sunglasses that I will never own, when hot wrestler & I started a convo.  Can you blame a gal for taking a once in a lifetime chance to ask how people actually get started in such an industry, how the lifestyle works & what the travel schedule is like???  Usually the shoe is on the other foot & I am the one fielding questions about my weird job/lifestyle, so it was a nice change.  We chatted about how he used to play football, his story about how he got into wrestling, if the gold D&G sunglasses were amazing or not (he passed that test), & the trials of trying to meet someone and date when you are never, ever home.  He was actually a really cool guy & towards the end of the flight gave me his contact info & told me to text him sometime.  

So, I went back to reading my magazine (and flipping back and forth to the page with those damn D&G sunglasses...I consider them one of my many great lost loves since I know I will never own them) until we touched down in Nashville.  First thing I always do is turn my phone off of airplane mode so I can get the multitude or text messages from friends who love me (hint), and this instance was no different.  My phone indicated I had a voicemail:

"Hey Ang!  It's Cass.  I got the call & am heading to Madison for my double lung transplant."

OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG! OMMMMMMMMGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No, really....OHHHHHHH MYYYYYY GOOOOOOSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My natural response?  I looked over at him with my mouth open, looked at my phone, looked back at him and started to cry.  Then get excited while crying (and the mascara started running down my face).  Then blurt out that my sister is getting a double lung transplant while smiling and crying (some people don't get that this is actually a good thing...though scary). Then continued to try and call my sister & parents but was so flustered I couldn't even figure out how to do that. 

Yeaahhh....so guess who isn't going to be pursing that avenue???  Well, unless I get really bored and then you never know what type of things I will do to entertain myself on an overnight.  Even text a WWE wrestler who probably thinks I am insane.  Really though, I've sort of had my fill of guys who have jobs that require them to be in the public eye though - been there, done that & honestly I just want to find a nice guy & settle down into some form of normalcy.  You know, more normal than having a day where you visit 4 different states in 12 hours, get a WWE wrestler's digits & then find out your younger sister is going through a double lung transplant.

For those of you wondering about my sister, I suggest you check out our Team Cassie FB page (and YES, this is a shameless plug to get you to our page so we can increase awareness about cystic fibrosis and NO I don't feel bad about it):

https://www.facebook.com/TeamCassie

There, I hope you enjoyed the hot mess story of where I was when I found out about Cass & how I totally looked like a spazz in front of one of the hottest guys I have ever talked to.  Enjoy the laugh at my expense! 

I'm Sorry...

Hello from the world's most sporadic blogger!  Oops...

So, I just got home from 6 days of flying (2 back-to-back 3 day trips) & let me tell you, I feel like road kill. Let's just say that if I were to cut myself right now I would bleed coffee...aka the life force of flight crews.

Thanks for being there for me during the rough times, love...

 On this last trip, I noticed a bad habit I have developed during my years as an FA.  I SAY SORRY TOO MUCH.  I noticed it when Kim, another FA, dropped some coats and said sorry...then I said sorry for not noticing ASAP...then she said sorry because I crouched down to help her pick them up...then I said sorry for grabbing the same hanger that she did.  I SAY SORRY TOO MUCH!!!!

How did this happen???  I couldn't help but wonder.  Granted, I have always been raised to show respect & display lady like manners (stop laughing some of you...I am a lady when push comes to shove), so "sorry", "please" and "thank you" have been a part of my daily vocab since childhood...but this is overboard.  After mulling it over I realized that this habit came from my line of work.  All day I apologize for things...over and over again.

* "Sorry, the flight is delayed for maintenance."
* "Sorry, due to severe weather your flight is cancelled."
* "Sorry, we weren't catered with peanuts on this flight."
* "Sorry I bumped into you with the cart."
* "Sorry, we can only serve one drink at a time per person."

Then I noticed another theme...I say sorry ALOT for things that I really have NO CONTROL over, but I can't say what I really want to say sometimes, so I just say SORRY.  It's my way of biting my tongue. There are days, days where I have been away from home for almost a week & have been up since 3AM, that I would LOVE to say the following...

* "Yes, our flight is delayed for maintenance and maybe you should thank your lucky stars for that so       we don't end up as flaming rubble at the end of the runway."
* "Dude, I am not God & really can't control the weather...but I sure am happy we aren't going to try       to fly through Blizzard 2013 because though I know I can evacuate a plane if we crash,  I don't           really want to prove it the hard way."
* "It's a 39 minute flight, if you are THAT hungry (and picky) then why didn't you grab something on       the way to the gate???"
* "That sucks that you got hit by my cart, but since you have seen it in the aisle for the last 20                 minutes & knew we were coming, maybe you could have removed your outstretched legs from said     aisle.  I don't have eyes in the back of my head, so I didn't see them there until it was too late."
 * "If you get trashed off of the 5 beers you would like to order right this second & slam all at            once during this 1.5 hour flight, I am going to get in a ton of trouble per the FAA (who are the ones      who say only 1 drink at  a time).  Though it might be mildly amusing to see you rip your shirt off         & run down the aisle yelling about how you just want to be free to be yourself, I can't run the risk       that you will be the other type of drunk who gets hostile after a few & will require the police               officers and paperwork that must be completed before I am allowed to go to sleep."

How I look...

How I feel...

How I cope...

It's kind of taken over in my "real life" though.  The last guy I dated during the summer would tell me all the time "you don't need to always say you are sorry.  You say it about 20 times a day for stuff that doesn't even matter."  I just figured he was trying to be sweet and blew it off.  Oopsie.  As a flight attendant it's part of the territory...you just smile and say sorry because that's what you are paid to do.  You train yourself to grin & bear it so that the customer leaves happy (or happy-ish...some people there is just no pleasing, try as you might). Even when you wish people would say sorry for things like making you repeat yourself 4 times because they refuse to take their earbuds out (don't get me started on this topic, that's a blog for a different day), or when they elbow you right in the hip or thigh when you are in the aisle (I have perma bruises all over my upper legs from this).  Even then, I apologize to them because clearly the customer is always right & I am a good FA who likes to stay out of my manager's office.

Yeah, I mean I am human too and sometimes I do legit need to say sorry.  You know, like for dropping tomato juice on someone's freshly pressed khaki's.  Or there was the time I accidentally elbowed some guy right in the temple because I lost my balance during taxi. Ironically, those people who really do deserve the billion sorry's I heap upon them are usually (granted, I said usually) the ones who are the most chill & brush it off with a simple "it was an accident' it's ok".  This gal needs to learn how to put value back into that single word in my daily life, so I am vowing here in the world of the internet (and we all know if it is on the internet, it MUST be true) that I am going to stop using "sorry" as my instant "go to".

Sorry I am not sorry for quitting this constant being sorry business...  :)



:Oh I had a lot to say, was thinking on my time away
I missed you and things weren't the same
'Cause everything inside it never comes out right." 
~ "Sorry" by Buckcherry