First Class = Free Booze

Last weekend I went to visit some friends in Salt Lake City, Utah. Let's go ahead and get it out there...the Morman culture there is a little creepy. It's like visiting a town that have all decided to drink the Koolaid. Anyway, on the flight back the plane was delayed for over an hour, of course. I made friends with the unlikely matched couple across from me and we shared some small talk and sarcastic comments while we waited. While we chatted, the woman behind me kept leaning back and chiming in on our conversation. Ok, first of all, it's not like I was best friends with the couple, but we were mid-conversation and this random woman would start laughing at my jokes over my shoulder or randomly point out that she, too, lived in Dallas. Thank you ma'am for sharing that...

I eventually got really annoyed by the interrupter (who, by the way, mentioned to her friend that her ride was going to bring her dogs so she could see and kiss them immediatley upon arrival) and decided to get up and walk over to the desk. I smiled my most charming smile and started talking to the agent. I walked away about 5 minutes later with a first class ticket in my hand. I walked the ticket back over to my seat and continued playing Super Mario Brothers on my Nintendo DS and eating animal crackers. The unlikely couple made fun of me, then we laughed for a while about how none of us remembered koala bears being in the animal cracker boxes when we were young. So, here I sit...in the Salt Lake City Airport, playing Nintendo, eating animal crackers, talking to strangers, and dreaming of my upcoming first class travel back to Dallas.

Boarding the plane is one of the best parts of traveling first class. I was immediatley a part of something much greater in life when the lady called for first class passengers. I rose to the call with my shoulders back and animal cracker zoo train box in hand...I was of the elite! We boarded the plane and it turned out that out of about 16 first class seats, about 5 were filled. I was the only woman and for sure the only one under the age of 45. I loved sitting down with my torn jeans, Nintendo and ipod among all of the "business men" in suits...suckers. I began to spread out my belongings immediately because I had the whole row to myself. I set up a little area of all of my things like I was at camp for a week, trying to feel at home. As soon as the wheels left the ground, our personal flight attendant came around and asked what we would like to drink. I ordered a beer, expecting to pay my 5 bucks...she brought the beer, but didn't ask for any money! I thought, "Surely she'll ask later...she must be running a tab. She can tell I want more than just one." Well, as I was enjoying my cold beverage out of a REAL GLASS, the tab-running flight attendant brings me WARM nuts. WARM! I mean, this is truely the life. Here I am, flying through the air, ipod on, good book, drinking an unpaid-for beer from a real glass, and eating warm nuts from a dish. I'd also like to add that these were good nuts...like mostly cashews. Just as I thought it couldn't get any better, she brings a warm towel for me to freshen up. I'm getting really excited at this point...I had no idea what to expect next! A magician? A pony ride? This is just too good to be true! THEN, she brings dinner! I ordered the "pasta duo" complete with side salad (this was a good, actually green-leaved salad), fresh warm bread, and a chocolate cheesecake for dessert. I'm drooling as she sets it in front of me...then she asks if I'd like red or white wine! I choose red, obviously, and then sat back to enjoy my fancy-first-class-suckers-in-the-back-only-got-three-small-pretzels-dinner. Ahhhh, this is the life...I was completely full and satisfied after...and the saint of a flight attendent even asked if I wanted a refill on my wine! Who knew!? Oh, it gets better...the booze in first class is free. God Bless the social class system.

Awkward bathroom moment...

So this morning, after my usual triple tall sugar-free vanilla nonfat latte, I had to go to the bathroom, naturally. That's a lot of liquid. So I innocently stroll down the hall of my office to the Ladies. I push open the door and I'm almost immediatley knocked on my ass from the smell. It was the kind that makes you turn your head to the right a little and squint. There is no way that another human woman could have produced something so foul. I was really torn at this point...do I wet my pants (skirt) or do I brave the smell and risk someone else walking in and assuming the smell came from me?! I was in a tight spot here--I decided to risk it. For those of you that have been in this situation, this is a VERY BIG risk. A number of things could have happened: 1) Another unsuspecting victim of the smell could have walked in while I was in my stall, automatically pasting the blame on me. 2) Someone could have walked in while I was washing my hands, which blames me and puts a false face to the smell. 3) I could pass another woman, or even worse, a female coworker in the hall on their way to the bathroom, on my way out, thus again placing the smell on yours truly. I risked all 3 situations, even though it could have led to my demise and the obvious need to quit my job. I held my breath and peed faster than Annie Oakley (i'm sure she was fast at everything). I rinsed my hands and didn't even bother drying them, then walked at a mall-walker pace back to my office. I burst in out of breath and really disgusted and warned my officemate to not take the risk.

Men should not wear earrings. Especially if they dangle.

So today at lunch, I ventured out to mail a gift for Mother's Day (side note: I thought for an extended period about keeping the gift for myself and getting mom something else, but decided against it when I realized how bad of a child that makes me...Indian giver...wait. I'm an Indian, maybe it's ok...). I walked into the UPS store and went straight to the card rack. I was very obviously looking for a card when the guy behind the desk chimes in, "Can I help you find anything?" Ok, first of all, thanks for being kind and helpful, but seriously? Did you really think I needed help finding a card? Did you assume that I was looking for a box, but somehow became really confused on my intentions? Do you think you know my mother better than I and therefore, would be able to find a more suitable choice? Clearly I was looking for a card. Clearly. I shot him a annoyed smile and said, "No, thanks, I'm good." After I found a lame card (side note #2: why do all of the cards at the UPS store have animals or babies on them? Seriously. Go look. Take the challenge), I stood in line to mail my package. The woman in front of me was obviously having a bad day. After snapping at the card-picker-outer behind the counter about how she couldn't lift her box, she read each address off like she was in a spelling bee and did the ol' "b as in boy" rountine several uneccessary times. I stood there waiting patiently with the gift I still wanted for myself and my lame baby/animal card. Well, after the grouchy speller left, I gave my info to another guy (not the card guy) so he could send my package. Right when I was about to pay, in walks 1984. Honestly, I looked for a hidden camera because I thought this guy was kidding. He had tight white-washed tapered jeans, dirty white high tops with velcro at the top (you know the ones), a wrikled polo with a skewed collar stretched over his gut and tucked in (aka holding on for dear life), complete with a frosted (to cover up the gray), frizzy, thin mullet. This one could have won an award. Very business-like in the front, but feathered with an extremely long party in the back (this is the moment where I start to pray for a friend to walk in so I can share this moment with another). To top it all off, I notice something dangling from this beauty's left ear. That's right...a long gold dangling earring. The kind that even Vanilla Ice would be embarassed to wear. He asked the card expert a question and, needless to say, his accent and tone of voice matched perfectly.

God bless the mullet and the spelling bee.

This would only happen to me...

So...I decided last night that I would go to sleep early--you know, get a "good night's rest." I crawled into bed at about 10pm and fell asleep almost immediately. It was the really good kind of sleep, the kind that you try to recreate on other nights. I'm a very hard sleeper, so by about midnight, I must have been deep under the spell of the "good sleep." This is also about the time when I literally jumped in bed as my good sleep was interuppted by an extremely loud noise. This was no alarm-clock-was-loud-and-starltled-me jump. It was a full-out Cosmo Kramer spaztic flailing. Then, all of the sudden, this deafening voice starts speaking in my loft, "There is a fire in the building. Please evacuate now..." I'm not sure what else he said or even if those were the accurate words, but at that point I wasn't really paying attention. This was the fire alarm...I sat up in bed, put my glasses on and immediately went into crisis mode. I grabbed my keys and cell phone, put on flip flops, and immediately left my apartment. I had this lingering moment between the bed and the flip flops where I just kind of stood there, wondering if I should take something with me. I feel like I've been asked that question before, "If you were ever in a fire, what's the one thing you would grab?" Well, since I have no pets or children, nothing else was important enough to waste time on. I didn't even think twice about it, I just left with my bedside lamp on and my "slow mix" on itunes still playing. I walked quickly but calmly down the hallway to the stairwell and flowed into the line of people pouring out of each floor. The stairwell reeked of smoke and something burning...the farther down we went, the stronger the smell. It was cloudy from the smoke and nobody was really talking--each resident was just following the person in front of them down to safety. I was in a group of about 20 people that were out first...several hundred people live in my building and obviously were either waiting to see if it was a false alarm, or were gathering up their prized possesions. About a minute after I stepped out of the building, the fire trucks began to arrive--one right after another until there were maybe 9 or 10 total, along with ambulences and other vehicles. The stoic streets of downtown were rudely interrupted by all of the chaos and noise and confusion. We were instructed to go across the street to stand, so we stood there, in the middle of downtown, on the street in our pajamas and watched everything unfold. The firefighters rolled out the hoses, filled them with water and stormed in with full gear, oxygen tanks, and axes. It was honestly just like watching a movie. We were all just standing there watching, nobody really saying anything, unsure of the fate of our homes and every single thing we owned.

Standing there was like a cross between a major disaster and a reality tv show waiting room. There was a woman with a cockatu on her shoulder, everyone's dogs were barking at each other and the firemen...it was all just very odd. Oh, and at about 3am, it started raining. Seriously...Well, long story short, it was an electrical fire on the 3rd floor of our 20 story building. I live on the 5th. It took 4 1/2 hours for the electric company and the fire department to put out the fire and deem the building safe enough for us to return home. We all trudged up the stairs in unison at 4:30 am through the sludge and water and smoke smell back to our concrete boxes of homes. I'm really glad I don't live on the 20th floor...

Archives...

I thought I'd add a few favorite stories from the past here...

February 22, 2006

So...this week has been quite eventful. Sunday night I came home around 11 p.m. As I placed the key in the door, I heard an extremely loud beeping noise. At the time, I'm thinking, "Wow, my neighbors really need to turn off the alarm or whatever is going off!...they're so loud all of the time...aren't they like 40 years old each? What's wrong with them?" Well, as I walk into the large concrete room I call home, I realize the beeping is coming from MY living room (Ok, it's not a living room, it's the area in the concrete room that I keep my couch and TV). It was one of my smoke detectors. The first thing I did was cuss, naturally. Then, after coming to the conclusion that there was, in fact, no fire or smoke, it meant the battery in the detector was dead. Ok, no big deal, right? Take the battery out or just replace it, right? WRONG. Number one, I have like 20 foot ceilings. I began to scramble around looking for the tallest thing to stand on. All kinds of ideas are popping into my head, like, "Maybe I can somehow shimmy up my armoire or my palm tree" (so i guess climbing my tree would be a good idea if it weren't close to death and extremly weak). I resolve to stacking my two glass coffee tables on top of each other. At this time, mixed emotions began to take over: I'm laughing out loud at myself thinking, "OF COURSE this happens to me" when fear starts to take over...the coffee tables are sliding around on each other because, well...they're made of glass and they're slippery. As much as I love climbing and heights and adventure, the reality of this situation was that I could fall and break every limb of my body and nobody would know because I live alone, and let's face it...if I screamed, my neighbors wouldn't think twice...I do live in the ghetto. Well, long story short, after climbing on the unsteady tables in my giant sweatpants they make me trip, I successfully removed the battery, threw it across the room, and made my way safely down from my table contraption. VICTORY!! Well, sadly enough, my smoke detector is also connected to the electricity, so since I didn't have another battery on hand, it went off ALL NIGHT LONG. I slept with my ipod up loud and the headphones deeply embedded in my ears with pillows covering both sides of my head. Talk about a restfull night of sleep! :-(

Well, to top it all off, I burned my finger on my HAIR this morning becaue my hair dryer gets so hot. Then, I walked into my office, turned on the light and ran right into a giant computer monitor that I think a dinosaur used to own. I slammed my knee into the edge, tripped, and spilled my extremely hot triple tall sugar-free vanilla nonfat latte all over my hand and down my sleeve.

January 18, 2006

Good story for the day:

I was leaving my parking garage in the ghetto and the arm on the gate to get out was broken! I swiped my little card and nothing happened. Giant arm still in front of Zelda (my car) with no way out. I call the number on the parking beepy thing and of course nobody answers. So there I sit...in the ghetto, late for work, trapped in this little parking shute that connects the garage to the street. The shute I speak of is a very narrow, one-car wide lane that ramps from the garage down into the street...it has high curbs on either side and is curvy. Picture me trying to back up this thing, against gravity, on this curvy and very narrow shute thing. Well, I back up and try to exit out the other direction, but since I already swiped my card at the broken one, it thought I was trying to cheat so it wouldn't work. So then I back up the shute the other way and went back to the broken one. At this time, another girl pulls behind me to exit. I think in my mind...wow, we're screwed and we'll have to become best friends and live here...do I still have that granola bar in my purse? Don't I have a bottle of water in my back seat? Or did I move it to the trunk? It will be cold water...it's been cold lately...Then, I snap back into reality and realize this poor girl doesn't know it's broken so she thinks I'm just hanging out, not swiping my card. So I decide to get out of my car and try and fix the arm on the gate. I jump out of Zelda...still on the narrow shute...can barely open the door and squeeze myself out of her...I go in front of the car and grab the arm thingy and yank it up as hard as I can. The arm breaks and I prop it up against the wall...I'M FREE!!! I hopped back in the car and drove away...the girl...my new best friend that I was going to share my granola bar and water with...drives through behind me. I'm thinking, gosh, she must really appreciate me for fixing the gate so we could both get through! Right then, the broken arm that was propped up against the wall came down and hit the back of her car!! HAHA!! OH CRAP!! She stopped for a second, then kept on going, so I did, too.

So there you go...hope this entertained you. Have a great day.

Here's my life...

Well, here we go...after some encouragement, I've decided to start my own blog. I think my life is hilarious. Enjoy.