November 30th.

Oh, frick.

November 29th.

I watched the whole Vikings game today. It might be the first time I've sat through an entire football game, not counting SuperBowls (which I barely watch) and the one game I attended once.

November 24th.

I'm off work today, for just one day, and I finished a 4-day yesterday and I start another 4-day tomorrow. But then ends the crazy jam-packed month that is November! The end is finally in sight.

Pam and I are baking pies (which I won't get to eat until after my next trip, sadly). I love pies.

My schedule came out, and I did not get high speeds, which means I'm on reserve. I did, however, get all the days off that I wanted! I have next weekend off, so I can celebrate Eric's birthday; I have bell choir Sunday off; I have big choir concert Sunday off; I have Christmas Eve and Day off; and I have New Year's Eve off!

I am a little nervous about how the month will go, though. Will I get called constantly because it's cold season and Christmas season and people will be calling in left and right? Will I not get called at all because people are afraid to call in sick this time of year and I'm at the top of seniority in reserves so they'll only use the few people at the bottom over and over? Who knows!

The good news is, it's only one month. I know I can once again bid for a normal schedule next month, I know I'm not stuck on reserve indefinitely. There's something comforting about that, something nicer about putting yourself on reserve than being forced into it. Oh, and I guess it's pretty comforting to know that I got all my wanted days off. :)

I was trying not to get excited about Christmas, since I didn't know if I'd have it off, but now that I know that I do, bring on the Christmas music! Despite reserve, I'm suddenly very much looking forward to December.

Oh goodness, I have so much shopping to do!

Tidbits and things.

I get bored at work occasionally, and I fill my time by writing future blog entries, or shopping lists, or to-do lists, or Christmas present lists, or lists of what I would do with the money if I won the Powerball. One of these days I'll take a picture for you of what my papers look like by the end of a trip. Sometimes (like the paper I'm typing from right now), I just have one big sheet; other times I have five different smaller ones covered in messy blue ink. I write upside down and sideways, to distinguish different trains of thought from each other. Many of my blog entries stem from these almost indecipherable handwritten pages.

I actually had an entry written and ready to type up that I could have posted on the 22nd, but I have a pattern going, and I knew which two entries I wanted next. (I don't know if you've noticed my pattern. It was unintentional at first, but once I noticed it, I had to keep it going.) Those two entries were also written up and ready to go, only I'd written them on my last trip and left them at home on my days off. They were quite long, and I liked the way I'd started them, so I just decided to wait instead of posting what I had and interrupting my pattern.

But now my pattern is filled in, and it's time for this random entry, filled of tidbits that I wrote on my last couple of trips. Welcome to the things that happen to me at work...

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You know when you can feel a hair tickling your skin in your cleavage but you're at work and there are passengers sitting right in front of you and you can't reach in and dig around to find it? Yeah, I hate that.

I like to try to sneak peaks of what passengers are reading. A sentence, an author, a chapter title. I don't know why, but I get a strange enjoyment from it.

I don't particularly love wine or beer, but serving them to other people and knowing I can't have any sure makes me want some.

It seems pretty common in the airline business for everyone to have certain airports they get stuck at more often than others. Mine are St. Cloud (which is sadly closing soon), Peoria, and just recently added, White Plains.

Usually flight crews make an effort of avoid airplane lavatories when at all possible. We had an hour delay the other morning, during which we were stuck on the airplane with no heat (just the crew, the passengers were luckily waiting warmly inside, though I'm sure they didn't think themselves lucky). We all had quite a bit of coffee. Despite all three of us having used to lav just before we started boarding, all three of us had to make the walk of shame all the way to the back of the airplane to use the lav during our reasonably short one hour and twelve minute flight. As a bonus, though, that meant I got to be in the flight deck twice during one flight!

Why do people insist on ignoring me? All day long. They pretend they can't see me, standing at the door as they board, or hear me tell them good morning. They stand up AS I'm saying the words, "The captain has turned the seatbelt sign on; please return to or remain in your seats and ensure that you seatbelt is securely fastened." They release their seatbelts as soon as they land, and ignore me asking them to keep them fastened until we're at the gate. (This is a particular pet peeve of mine, actually. Would you take off your seatbelt in your car just because you're in a traffic jam? No, because you're still driving. The aircraft is still active, there are still other vehicles and other planes around, we are not yet parked, so keep your effing seatbelt on. It's not going to help you if you stand up two seconds earlier; the door is still going to open at the same time, the jetbridge is still going to take two minutes to be lined up. So please, just hold your freaking horses.) They lean their seats back as soon as I sit down, despite the fact that I just asked them to please make sure their seat-backs were all the way up for takeoff and we haven't left the gate yet. They ignore the garbage bag that I walk down the aisle with, instead opting to leave their trash stuffed into the seat pocket. They even ignore my smile and wishes for a good day as they exit. Why? Why do people hate me? Why do people think they're so above me? People ignoring me so insistently day after day might be contributing to my dislike of people in general.

Whoever designed the brand-new Wendy's at the airport seems to have neglected the fact that it is not, in fact, a regular restaurant, but rather an airport location. People are in a hurry, cranky, and most importantly, loaded with baggage. But no, the restaurant has no extra room to order, no designated spot in which to wait for your order, not even an inch of extra space between tables in which to stash your multitude of bags. And yet, I cannot resist the siren call of that little ginger hamburger-pusher. I have a weakness for lettuce on my cheeseburger. Even in the morning I can't stay away; who can resist $2 biscuits and gravy?

I swear, people think I have a secret route through the cabin that they can't see. After everyone has stood up and is waiting to exit, someone in the front will ask me, "Can you get my bag for me? It's a couple of bins back." Well, sir, can you get your bag? "No, the aisle is full of people, I can't get through." ... Exactly.

Some guy left me his number on a post-it note on the back of his seat the other day. No name, just a tiny hot pink post-it that said, "Cindy, Call Me 555-555-5555" (except with an actual number). I don't recall anyone on that flight making an effort to flirt or get me to notice them, which means either A - I am oblivious, 2 - he (or she?) sucks at flirting, or C - s/he really didn't make any effort to be memorable. I don't even recall who was sitting in that seat, though my pilots were all for finding out. (Is it weird that, on every single trip, I call the pilots I'm flying with "my pilots"?) I assured them that was unnecessary and would probably upset my boyfriend, which led them down a whole new path of ridicule. For instance, they hypothesized that the mystery-number-leaver was like a secret shopper for boyfriends, hired by Eric to bait me, to see if I'd call, or to see if I'd tell him about getting a number from a stranger, or if I'd hide something like that. My pilots then decided that it didn't matter that I have a boyfriend, and they wanted me to call the guy, and/or to get even more numbers. They even offered, on subsequent flights, to announce that I was looking for phone numbers, and they scolded me for hiding in the galley during a delay, telling me I sure wouldn't be getting any numbers that way.

I would sigh and say, you see? You see the shit I have to put up with? But it was one of the funniest trips I've had in awhile. It's nice when you can actually talk and joke around with your pilots, even if you are the butt of many of the jokes.

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In other news, I have Christmas off! More on that later.

November 1st.

Last year on Halloween, I was on a plane. It was my first ever trip on the Saab, my favorite beastly plane, and I was finishing up my inflight training. I impressed the pants off my instructor, whose last student left much to be desired and made me even more awesome in comparison. My very sweet-yet-weirdly-hardcore instructor showed me how to fill out the catering supply list, and she drew a festive little ghost for the caterers. She was wearing Halloween socks, which she told me were perfectly acceptable, as long as they are mostly black.

I got home in plenty of time to be able to drive to Duluth, where all my friends already were, and I called scheduling feeling hopeful. Note: Never call scheduling feeling hopeful. I told them I was off of OE (Operational Experience, aka inflight training) and wondered whether I would or would not be on reserve the next day. As it turned out, I would. My hopes sufficiently crushed,I went about my day at home, trying not to think of the mischief my friends would no doubt be getting into.

I was actually called for a trip the next morning (probably because I was the lowest person on the list, having just reached official status less than 24 hours previously), and that day I stepped foot onto the CRJ200 for the first time. A good plane, but not what I had in mind for Halloween weekend.


This year, I wanted to be home for Halloween. I wanted to dress up and go out, and I wanted to eat way too much sugar and drink way too much... sugar. *cough*

Jess was planning on a huge bash at her parents' house, with costumes and games and food and sugar and drinking and everything I could want in one convenient location. Schedules came out at the end of September, and lo and behold! I did not have Halloween off in its entirety, but I did get off by 2pm, which really is just as good. I was going to be Ariel, because I've strangely never dressed up as her for Halloween, even though I've loved her since I was five, and I already have the red hair.

Well, the party fell through long ago, as did my plans for Ariel (someday, though. Someday.), but we managed to scrape together a pretty decent time. I was a little nervous because, strangely enough, D was going to be there (that's the thing about having an ex-fiance - you still have a lot of the same friends!) along with, even weirder, his new girlfriend. Awk-ward! It turned out to be kind of awesome, though. There was a large group of us, and we spent most of the night at a gay bar, where some very compromising photos of almost everyone were taken, and where our group ended up somehow commandeering the stage towards the end of the night. It was an interesting night, to be sure, and I don't think I could've hoped for anything better, given the strange circumstances.

And I got my wish: I was home, I was in costume, I had way too much sugar, and I drank way too much.... sugar. Er, jag bombs have sugar, don't they? But I got even more than I'd originally hoped for, because I had a blast with my sister, my amazing bff, a friend who flew in Florida, and my very fantastic boyfriend, who very kindly put up with my obnoxious drunken self.

Plus, I was a lolcat. So that is pretty much awesome.







As a bonus, I discovered while looking through my pictures that my black pants were see-through in the stage lighting. It may or may not be time to invest in some new pants.

November 12th.

There are many important things happening in December. Near the beginning of the month, I think it might be someone's birthday. That same weekend, there's bell choir, in which I play five very important bells (most of the melody line of Ave Maria). There's the big Christmas choir concert, which I've never gotten to sing in before, and the very important rehearsals for said performance. And, of course, there's Christmas Eve and Day and New Year's Eve. Because of all these very important things, and because of my intensely busy November, I decided to take December off.

See, my company has been offering Company Convenience Leaves (CCLs) every month for quite awhile now. It is simply an unpaid month of leave, during which (with a few extra arrangements) you can still travel. I wondered if they'd even offer one for December, and I was thrilled when they did. I applied as soon as I saw the memo, and then had to wait and wait for the awards to come out.

Well, they came out today. Eighteen Detroit flight attendants got a CCL, thirteen in Memphis, and FIVE in Minneapolis. Yeah, I am not one of those five.

I may end up actually bidding to be on reserve in December, in a desperate effort to get as many of my wanted days off as possible. Oh, Lord help me!

[Nov 23: I did, in fact, bid reserve. I want high speeds, and if I don't get them, I'll be on call. I find out tomorrow which doom I face.]

November 21st.

Well, thanks to my crazy bff, I'm now in the middle of a (non-) Non-Competitive competition to see who can actually keep up with this daily blogging nonsense. This could get dangerous.

She's right about one thing, though; I am the Queen of Procrastination. (See how I capitalized that, like a real title?)

Today, for instance, I procrastinated on something very, very important. I had something within my reach, and I let the opportunity pass me by. See, I got in to White Plains, New York at noon today. White Plains is, supposedly, a mere forty-minute train ride to the city. The City. New York City. The place I feel an inexplicable draw to; the place I planned on moving to once; the city that never sleeps; the city I've never set foot in; the city where I planned to make my entrance into the world of editing.

But I didn't go.

I walked to downtown Armonk and had some delicious pizza. But I didn't get on a train to New York.

Ever since I saw this glorious 20-hour White Plains overnight on my schedule a month ago, I've been looking forward to it, to my chance to finally see New York. But then I got here today, and it just didn't feel right. The weather is great, yes. I brought a jacket so I wouldn't have to wear my way-too-big navy trench coat, yes. But I didn't feel like going alone, today, and I know I'd much rather explore an exciting new city with a good friend than with a virtual-stranger-pilot.

I guess I'll just have to wait until I have a couple days off and drag someone along with me. Any takers?

I CAN'T STOP POSTING ABOUT TWILIGHT.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE YELLING ABOUT!

Oh wait, yes I do. Twilight. Ahhh. (That was a contented sigh, not more yelling, in case you were wondering.)

First: New Moon, the movie. Pam and I stupidly both waited in line for overpriced foodstuffs and the messiest Icee I've ever encountered instead of dividing and conquering to save ourselves some seats in our designated theatre. We were thus forced to sit in the very front row, all by ourselves, despite the obnoxious smattering of single seats containing nothing but coats and that comforting feeling of being a safe distance from strangers. Though the theatre was mostly full, it wasn't as rowdy as we'd hoped. Maybe the other screens, the theatres that sold out weeks ago with excited fans who wanted their tickets early, just in case, were more rambunctious than ours. But ours was definitely lacking in any sort of audience participation, which normally pisses me off but which had been my hope to experience during the midnight showing. I wanted to see the movie in a theatre full of people just as excited about it as I was. Instead, we were surrounded by people who, like us, had waited until almost the last minute to buy tickets, and thus were lacking in the enthusiasm we had so looked forward to.

But they are not the point. The movie is the point.

And let me tell you, the movie was good. Don't get me wrong; it was not good. But it was so good.

Let me esplain. ... No. There is too much. Let me sum up. (Name that movie, anyone?) Er, anyway....

Seriously, now. New Moon was, without a doubt, better than Twilight. And I love this story so much that, no matter how good or bad they made it, I'd be enthralled with any visual depiction of it. (This one, for instance, really gets me. Spoilers abound!) I'm not thrilled with many of their actors; they just don't look like the people in my head. But when is casting ever spot-on for a book-turned-movie? Though I must say that the actor that plays Charlie, Bella's dad, makes the perfect Charlie. So, ignoring the casting, and taking into account that it's simply impossible to include everything from a book in a movie, they actually did a really nice job. I will obviously own it, when I can. And it was so, so worth it to go to the midnight showing instead of waiting for my one measley day off this week.

Listening to the teenagers that surrounded us talk while we were standing in the Icee line, on the other hand... That's not worth anything. *shudder*

Now that I've bored most of you out of your skulls, let me move on to a new topic.

The Twilight books. Ha! I totally fooled you. This'll just take a minute though, I swear. Maybe. I've read them all twice before, but that didn't stop me from racing through them yet again. I get so sucked in to the story that I just cannot bring myself to stop reading, even if it means severe sleep deprivation. I was wondering at how stupid that is, considering I know what happens and I should be able to take a breather, when it occured to me that that's exactly why I can't put them down: I know what happens, and I just can't wait for it all to happen, already! Sure, I've read it happen before, but it's all so good that I just can't wait for it to happen again! They're that good. Seriously.

I know most of you don't believe me; but some of you do. And you understand. You know exactly what I'm saying.

Unless I really am insane, which is always a possibility.

November 19th.

Most days, I face a dilemma as I stand in my closet, trying to decide what to wear. My work uniform is not very flattering, to say the least, so I like to make an effort to feel as cute as possible at all other times. Sometimes that involves dressing up a bit, sometimes it involves a little more comfort; it's all about what I'm feeling cute in that day.

Today, I faced an exceptionally difficult choice. Which shirt should I wear: my black I ♥ Vampires shirt, my Team Edward shirt, or my very innocuous Forks High School Athletic Department shirt?

I settled for Team Edward. I figure he can use all the help he can get; poor Edward won't even be on his own team tonight.

November 18th.

Sometimes I think that my hair can sense when I'm contemplating cutting it all off, and it compensates by having an awesome day. Today, for instance, was such a good hair day that I just wanted to spend copious amounts of time staring at it, or hugging it. Yesterday, on the other hand, I wondered if I could convince it to be curly if I cut it all to somewhere between chin and shoulder length. Today wins; the hair stays.

I have weekdays off. Conversely, my friends have normal jobs. I like to meet my corporate friends for lunch, then, so that I can still see them and chat on my days off. It's very nice. It gets me out of bed at a reasonable hour, gets me out of the house and moving, lets me see my friends; but it mostly makes me jealous. Some days I long for a cubicle and a nine-to-five desk job.

Other days, though, I remember that, even though my November is terrible, sometimes my job gives me a random week off. In the middle of the month. For no reason. Without me even asking for it. And also I have great benefits, including free flights. And then I think, maybe I don't want to quit this job for a long, long time yet.

I woke up multiple times last night because I was SO. FREEZING. COLD. Time to put the extra comforter back on my bed, methinks. And I was so toasty warm went I went to bed, thanks to my lovely space heater. Alas.

Pam and I are going to see New Moon at midnight tomorrow. It's ok, I totally don't work until noon on Friday.

Oh, at Wingo tonight I was ONE AWAY from winning $800. Frickin O61. But I totally won the consolation prize of $50 in Target gift cards, so that's awesome. I feel consoled, for sure. Good timing, too; I need a bigger lunchbox.

That's what she said?