Well, its official. I've been sucked into the vortex and I can't get out. What vortex am I talking about? I'm talking about the nightmare assignment of Online Reserve, and it IS like a vortex... once you get sucked in, there's no getting out. After 19 days last month, of sitting and waiting in a hotel room in Germany, waiting for scheduling to call me for a trip assignment, they sent me home for a whopping 48hrs, only to immediately place Online Reserve back on my schedule for this month. So here I sit....again....and wait....and wait...and wait.
Don't get me wrong...there ARE a few positive aspects to this whole situation (this is me desperately trying to find a 'silver lining'). I'm getting paid to just sit here. How many people can say they get paid to sleep, read a book and watch TV. Not many, that's for sure. And I do have a number of great friends who are here with me, doing the same thing...and after our 'on call hours' are finished every day, we ARE able to get out and enjoy a nice meal in a beautiful city. There's only one catch......you see, we have multiple hotels that our company utilizes in every city where we layover. And they're ranked, 1st choice, 2nd choice, etc etc. Apparently, when our Travel department went to assign all of our hotel rooms (there's about 20 of us), they went down the queue and assigned everyone to our 1st choice hotel. Its BY FAR the best hotel in the city...best location, best amenities, best BEDS (very very important). Well, they got to my name...the very LAST flight attendant on the list, and our 1st choice hotel informed them that they were all booked up. As a result, out of 20 crewmembers, I am officially the ONLY person at our 2nd choice (and definitely 2nd rate) hotel.
Normally, I'm never one to raise hell about anything having to do with our hotels. For the most part, they're all usually quite nice (many times 5 star), and I don't really care, because once I get to a city, I drop off my stuff and head out the door to explore. I don't really care about the hotels, because I usually just use them to sleep, and the rest of the time , I"m out on the town. But this is a VERY different circumstance. I'm here for 20 days....and I'm confined/quarantined/imprisoned in this room for a minimum of 12 hrs every day. I did EVERYTHING I possibly could to get myself moved to the other hotel. Short of threatening a One person strike, lol, I did everything I could think of, with absolutley no results. Overall, the hotel isn't bad. The location kind of sucks (its a bit of a walk to the city center), but there's one thing that's horrible and unacceptable....the BEDS. OMG. I'm actually (no joke) in physical pain down my legs and hips from the poor quality mattress. And when I got to the room, there were 2...count 'em...TWO pillows. That's it. What makes it worse is knowing that I should be at the 1st choice hotel, where the beds are hands-down, absolutely DIVINE. So, I broke down. And did something I'm embarassed to admit......I decided to act like a TOURIST. Yep, you read that right - imagine the hypocrisy - but there you go. I dropped the Traveler mentality and acted like a good ol' ugly American Tourist. I decided that SOMETHING had to be done about my bed, so I called downstairs to the reception desk, and proudly asked for SIX extra pillows and TWO extra down comforters. You should have heard the tone in the receptionist's voice - she was quite honestly appalled. I had to keep from laughing at myself out loud, as I knew my request was about as high-maintenanced as it comes. She asked me 3 times to repeat myself, and repeat to her how many items I was actually requesting. She was incredulous and when she realized I was being serious, she became quite annoyed and haughty. Yep, that's it - the perfect response to someone acting like a Tourist! But I didn't back down. I stood my ground, and about 30 mins later, 2 staffmembers arrived, weighted down by my requests. A very nice sized tip was granted, and I began my process of turning my sucky bed into as much of an oasis as possible. I used the 2 extra down comforters, plus one from my room, to create a down cushion of sorts on top of the mattress, on which to lay. Saving the last down comforter to curl up under when i go to sleep. Then, I took all 10 pillows (I found 2 extra in my room, so i had 4 to start with) and I created a "moat" of pillows surrounding me. Final result?? Not too shabby, if I do say so myself! Its not the 1st choice hotel, but it will do for now. But enough about my bed. I hope I haven't bored you to death! But hey, like I've said before, you work with what you've got, and since I can't leave this hotel room and have any adventures to write about, I've got to work with the material right in front of me.
On a more interesting note......I mentioned earlier that I have a number of friends who are staying at the other hotel, sitting Online Reserve along with me. There's one friend in particular who I'm planning on spending some quality time with over the weekend. I can't wait. Its been over a year since we've seen each other, and saying that alot has changed with her, is the understatement of the year. ( I do hope that when she reads this, she will know that I'm writing about her because she's just one of the most fabulous, loving, caring, thoughtful people I have ever been blessed to know). So the big change since I last saw her? The last time I saw her....SHE was a HE. In this past year, we were both out on extended leave....during that time, she was finally able to complete her years-long journey of becoming the woman she so very much desired to be. The process, from what I understand, takes years....years of psychological introspection, years of medical procedures, years of countless surgeries....but here she is....and she's finally done it!!! I couldn't be more happy for her, and I couldn't be more blessed to call someone like her, my friend. She absolutely amazes me....everything she has gone through to get to this point. The strength and the courage its taken.....I simply can't imagine it. The reason I wanted to write about her is this......I know many many people who have dreams and desires....people who talk about changing something they don't like for years, but never doing it. I, too, have been victim of this lackadaisical attitude at times in my life. But my friend (I'm refraining from using her name, for obvious reasons of privacy) went for it.....ALL OUT. Talk about taking some guts. Especially knowing that the after effects of this change would probably cause her a great deal of grief from unaccepting people and people who are too narrow-minded to see the wonderful person that she is, and always has been. So to her, I say 'BRAVO'!!! When I saw her on our plane the other day, I was absolutely blown away......she is outstandingly beautiful, carrying herself with a dignity and grace that is rarely seen. And on a lighter note, I have a new 'shopping buddy'!!! :) She's already asked me to go with her - to help be a kind of 'personal stylist', which is such a compliment!!! Like I said before, some of you might wonder why I chose to write about this friend of mine in my blog....but here's the crux of the situation..... living the life of a Traveler, is not just about seeing the world. Being a true Traveler, is about living a life of immersion, adventure and dedication in the place you find yourself to be in. It can be anything from seeing the Colloseum in Rome, to going to the grocery store in your hometown. It doesn't matter where you are...its about living the life you've been given to its fullest, and always, no matter what, being true to yourself. Its about going after your goals, desires and dreams. And that is why, I decided to write about this dear friend of mine. She is a true Traveler in every sense of the word, and I am blessed to call her my friend. We can all take a cue from her.....be courageous. be daring. go for what you want. and always, no matter what, be true to your inner self.
So get out there and enjoy your day, everyone!! get out there and be DARING!!!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
I'm BA-A-A-A-A-C-K
Its official. Its known as "Online Reserve" and along with my company's scheduling department, its become the bane of my existence. From what I've been told (all hearsay, of course), we aren't supposed to be assigned 'online reserve' 2 months in a row. And yet, here I sit. And sit. And need I say? SIT. I'm not good at just 'sitting'. I'm a get out there and 'do it' kind of girl. So this whole being trapped in a hotel room for 12 hours a day, chained to the hotel room's telephone is not my kind of gig. Especially when my friends are all running around Italy and Vienna, Austria on this month's schedule of trips. That's where I want to be!!! The only silver lining is the fact that I'm currently fighting off a wicked sinus infection, and being stuck in this hotel room gives me all the opportunity to sleep, sleep and sleep some more, all the while getting paid to do it.
This leads me to the ever more important issue of.......the hotel bed. When it comes to hotel rooms, give me all, or none, of the fanciest, newest gadgets in the world in my hotel room and I dont care. Give me tacky retro chic decor, or simply elegant and understated decor...I dont care. Give me a plasma High Def TV or a 15" set from the 80's...don't care. For me, its ALL ABOUT THE BED. Our normal layover hotel in downtown Leipzig has simply the most fabulous beds you've ever slept in. Down everything, 500 thread count sheets, a mattress to die for... you quite simply, NEVER want to get out of bed! But (insert pity party here), I'm not at THAT hotel this time. It seems that when they went to assign hotel rooms to all of us sitting online reserve, that I was the very last person in the assignment queue. They went through the whole list, and everyone was placed at our 1st choice hotel (with THE BEDS). And when they got to me, and the hotel was completely booked (or rather, its not that the hotel is booked up, the hotel just doesnt want to give out any more rooms to my company at the discounted rate), they had to send me to our 2nd choice hotel, and whaaaaahhhhhhh (insert crying jag here) the beds absolutely suck. I'm sad. I tried everything in my power to get assigned to the other hotel.....i talked to my supervisor, the scheduling supervisor, the travel department supervisor, but NO luck. Don't they understand that its ALL about the BED??? Don't they get it??? Apparently not.... so, I did the unthinkable - I acted like a (gulp)...Tourist. At least I tried to act like a GRACIOUS Tourist, albeit a Tourist. I know, I know...the hypocrisy, right? But I did it anyway.....I proudly called down to the front desk of this 2nd rate hotel and requested 5.....count'em....FIVE extra pillows. And then I went one further, and requested 2 extra down comforters. The front desk clerk was, I can only gather from the tone in her voice, appalled. I expected this. But if they're going to give us sub-standard beds, then I needed to make some 'adjustments'....and fast. After they begrudgingly delivered my requested items, I proceeded to create a 'mini oasis' on my bed. I have 2 beds in my room, so I took one of the down comforters, added that to the 2 they brought me, and created a down "cushion" on which to lay. Then I took the last comforter and am using that to cover up with. I took the 5 extra pillows (along with the 4, already in the room) and created a "pillow moat", if you will, surrounding myself with a sea of pillows. Its not the same as the bed at our regular hotel, but it will work in a pinch.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A cup of tea changed my life
Yep! you read that correctly - I'M FREE!!!!!! YAY and YEE-HAW!!!! Goodbye to you , my 4-walled prison of a hotel room...i'm outta here!!! well, not for a few days, but heck - just KNOWING that i'm finally going to be on the road again sends shivers down my spine and has thrown me into a tailspin of packing, organizing and planning. Yes, I'm not leaving for 3 days, but one can never be TOO prepared :). Plus, the packing and the organizing and everything else gives me something to do to help pass the time....
Here's the tricky part though.....its a great trip.....lots of flying as a passenger on other airlines, and VERY little actual working...but you see, I'm in a rather small city known as Leipzig, Germany, right now, and I have to get to an equally smaller city known as Adana, Turkey. Ahh...there's the rub. Neither city is an airline 'hub', so in order to travel from one to the other, I have to make a trip damn-near halfway around the world, to go what is approximately 1500 miles. Usually, a trip of 1500 miles would take around 3 hours or so....but not this trip....THIS trip is going to take me more like 16 hours! I have to start in Leipzig, fly to Frankfurt, Germany on Lufthansa, switch to Turkish Airlines, get on another plane and fly to Istanbul, Turkey, then switch planes once again, to finally make it to Adana, Turkey. I don't mind the flying so much - I'm getting paid the same as if I were actually WORKING all those flight hours (a little bonus thanks to our wonderful union contract). What I DO mind, and worry myself sick over, is the whole "checked baggage issue". You see, when you travel for what could end up being a 6 week long trip, you tend to carry a decent amount of luggage with you (I mentioned this before). And while I do have some flight atttendant friends who, bless their little old efficient souls, are able to get everything they need into 2 smart, carry-on size bags.......I, dear friends, am not one of those people. I have STUFF. and LOTS of it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I carry what we lovingly refer to in the biz as a "Big Bertha" bag. The name explains it all......it's a honkin' big, clunky and overstuffed piece of luggage wonderfulness. I swear by mine....and let me tell you folks....it is PACKED. and then some. I don't know why I've never had the presence of mind to downsize, but everything I bring with me always seems so important and "can't live without". So, "Big Bertha" stays by my side........usually. And ahhhh, there's the rub.....again.......you see, when you travel with a 'big bertha', you have one huge hurdle (and sometimes your worst nightmare)...you have to CHECK your bag. Normally, this isn't a huge deal. 99% of the time, your baggage will arrive with you, just as it's supposed to. But think about it.....I'm transiting 4 airports, on 3 different airplanes, and 2 different airlines.....the odds are against me. BIG TIME. Needless to say, the praying to the 'luggage gods' has already begun. With any luck (and trust me, there's a LOT of luck involved in the whole process), Big Bertha will be there with her fine self, wobbly wheels and all, waiting for me when I arrive in Adana. I'm not Catholic, but I think its about time to start busting out some 'Hail Mary's". Anyone got a rosary I can borrow???
So I'm heading to Adana.....I'm excited since I haven't been there in awhile.....Turkey is such an ecclectic, magical place.....A frenetic mix of VERY old world charm and the newest of new technologies. Its nothing to see a pack-mule, weighed down with a peasant's day's worth of wares to be sold at market, waiting at a traffic light while a fresh from the showroom, brand new Ferrari, rumbles its engines beside it. A glittering, mirrored Hilton Hotel, shining brightly in the sun, standing right next to one of the oldest Mosques in the region....hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years old. Its common to see the latest fashions on so many finely, immpecably dressed women on the street, and yet, if I want to enter any of the Mosques in the city, I am required to don the 'hijab' (or headdress/veil of the Muslim culture). Without it, I am not allowed to step inside. Such a fantastic combination of the Old World and the New....
One of my very favorite things to study and learn, as I travel this great Globe of ours, is the customs and culture of a place I'm going to be visiting. The little nuances, the idiosyncracies, the requirements, the expected and the unexpected.....This is always so surprising, and enticing to me....to learn how and why a land of people live as they do.....Culture and Custom are always this delightful melange of historical fact and fable, tales that found their way into tradition, and so on....These things never cease to amaze and entice me...and I can never get enough of it. It all goes back to the Traveler vs. Tourist mindset. As a true Traveler, I want to get in with the people of a country and learn not only the history of their place, but to learn more importantly, how and why they live their lives the way they do. This is the TRUE essence of a place and I love every bit of it.
On my very first trip to Turkey 5 years ago, I was waiting for a coworker friend of mine in the lobby, and struck up a conversation with a local woman who had just begun working at a nearby shop. (I've found that conversing with locals is the absolute BEST way to find out about a place - forget the guide books - the locals are "where its at"!) I asked her if there was any advice or suggestions that she would give to me, being that I was not just new to the city, but new to the entire country. After telling me of some local historical monuments I should explore, I asked her if there was anything, culturally speaking, that I should know of, before I headed out to see her fair city. She said "Yes. There is one very important thing. If you are ever offered a beverage, such as tea, in a shop, you should ALWAYS accept this offer and sit down to enjoy your beverage with the shopkeeper. It is considered a rude, 'slap in the face' - so to speak - if you decline this offer of refreshment. Always remember this.", she said. I thanked her for her suggestions, met my friend, and departed for my exploration. As we were leaving, I thought of this woman's advice, and since I had spent NO time, thus far, in this part of the world (I was new to my airline and the cities we travel to), I began to think of a typical shopping experience back in the States. When, had I EVER been offered a beverage by a shopkeeper? maybe once? twice? in my lifetime? So in my mind, it seemed to reason, that such an offer would probably be few and far between here in Turkey, as well. Boy, was I WRONG. Our first stop was a Turkish rug store I had heard a great deal about from my coworkers, and wouldn't you know it? We weren't in the front door 2 seconds, before the owner of the shop was ushering us to the back room, which doubled as a 2nd showroom, and was offering us tea, coffee, Coca-Colas and little cakes to go along with our liquid refreshment. I smiled at the thought of my "new" friend I had met at the hotel and her advice, and thankfully accepted a delicious cup of tea and a little cake. Instantly, EVERY single worker in the store was lining up in front of us, each with his own personal choices of different rugs, in every color and style.....it was like Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive....We sat, enjoyed our refreshments, and THEY brought the store to US. I was in heaven. And then, something even more surprising happened....the owner offered us his nephew to be our tour guide for the day. Insisted, actually. Our meager attempts at a "No, thank you, that won't be necessary" fell on deaf ears. It was decided. The nephew was going to be our escort for the rest of the day, and that was all there was to it! When we mentioned that we wanted to visit the beautiful mosque down the street, the owner of the shop quickly jumped into action, returning quickly with 2 of the most beautiful silk scarves I had ever seen (gifts, he stated, as a "welcome to his Country"), so that we would have something to wear on our heads, so that we would be allowed to enter the mosque. I was beyond touched. And what was so interesting to me was that all of this just seemed to be the 'norm' for the owner, his nephew, and the other employees of the shop. Just another day to them. Not for us, though. Not at all. People say "Its the little things in life that make the difference". These were "little" things to our new friends...."little" acts of generosity, kindness and friendship. But they were SO not "little" things to my friend and me. I was once again, forever changed. And all because of a cup of tea.
So, with Ahmed (the nephew) as our tour guide, we set out to venture around Adana, and wouldn't you know it? EVERY SINGLE TIME we stepped foot in another shop, the same offer of refreshments was bestowed upon us. I was blown away. What a lovely tradition. And one thing is for certain....it made me re-evaluate how I have, and forever will, greet and welcome foreigners to my OWN country, the USA, and how I only hope I can bestow upon these "new friends" the same amount of kindness, generosity and friendship, that was so unselfishly bestowed upon me.....in one of my newest, favorite 'little' cities - Adana, Turkey. But enough about that....i've been in 6 shops and have had 6 cups of tea and DESPERATELY need to find a Ladies Room!!!! :) Damn, i wish i knew how to speak Turkish!!!!
Ta ta for now....
Here's the tricky part though.....its a great trip.....lots of flying as a passenger on other airlines, and VERY little actual working...but you see, I'm in a rather small city known as Leipzig, Germany, right now, and I have to get to an equally smaller city known as Adana, Turkey. Ahh...there's the rub. Neither city is an airline 'hub', so in order to travel from one to the other, I have to make a trip damn-near halfway around the world, to go what is approximately 1500 miles. Usually, a trip of 1500 miles would take around 3 hours or so....but not this trip....THIS trip is going to take me more like 16 hours! I have to start in Leipzig, fly to Frankfurt, Germany on Lufthansa, switch to Turkish Airlines, get on another plane and fly to Istanbul, Turkey, then switch planes once again, to finally make it to Adana, Turkey. I don't mind the flying so much - I'm getting paid the same as if I were actually WORKING all those flight hours (a little bonus thanks to our wonderful union contract). What I DO mind, and worry myself sick over, is the whole "checked baggage issue". You see, when you travel for what could end up being a 6 week long trip, you tend to carry a decent amount of luggage with you (I mentioned this before). And while I do have some flight atttendant friends who, bless their little old efficient souls, are able to get everything they need into 2 smart, carry-on size bags.......I, dear friends, am not one of those people. I have STUFF. and LOTS of it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I carry what we lovingly refer to in the biz as a "Big Bertha" bag. The name explains it all......it's a honkin' big, clunky and overstuffed piece of luggage wonderfulness. I swear by mine....and let me tell you folks....it is PACKED. and then some. I don't know why I've never had the presence of mind to downsize, but everything I bring with me always seems so important and "can't live without". So, "Big Bertha" stays by my side........usually. And ahhhh, there's the rub.....again.......you see, when you travel with a 'big bertha', you have one huge hurdle (and sometimes your worst nightmare)...you have to CHECK your bag. Normally, this isn't a huge deal. 99% of the time, your baggage will arrive with you, just as it's supposed to. But think about it.....I'm transiting 4 airports, on 3 different airplanes, and 2 different airlines.....the odds are against me. BIG TIME. Needless to say, the praying to the 'luggage gods' has already begun. With any luck (and trust me, there's a LOT of luck involved in the whole process), Big Bertha will be there with her fine self, wobbly wheels and all, waiting for me when I arrive in Adana. I'm not Catholic, but I think its about time to start busting out some 'Hail Mary's". Anyone got a rosary I can borrow???
So I'm heading to Adana.....I'm excited since I haven't been there in awhile.....Turkey is such an ecclectic, magical place.....A frenetic mix of VERY old world charm and the newest of new technologies. Its nothing to see a pack-mule, weighed down with a peasant's day's worth of wares to be sold at market, waiting at a traffic light while a fresh from the showroom, brand new Ferrari, rumbles its engines beside it. A glittering, mirrored Hilton Hotel, shining brightly in the sun, standing right next to one of the oldest Mosques in the region....hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years old. Its common to see the latest fashions on so many finely, immpecably dressed women on the street, and yet, if I want to enter any of the Mosques in the city, I am required to don the 'hijab' (or headdress/veil of the Muslim culture). Without it, I am not allowed to step inside. Such a fantastic combination of the Old World and the New....
One of my very favorite things to study and learn, as I travel this great Globe of ours, is the customs and culture of a place I'm going to be visiting. The little nuances, the idiosyncracies, the requirements, the expected and the unexpected.....This is always so surprising, and enticing to me....to learn how and why a land of people live as they do.....Culture and Custom are always this delightful melange of historical fact and fable, tales that found their way into tradition, and so on....These things never cease to amaze and entice me...and I can never get enough of it. It all goes back to the Traveler vs. Tourist mindset. As a true Traveler, I want to get in with the people of a country and learn not only the history of their place, but to learn more importantly, how and why they live their lives the way they do. This is the TRUE essence of a place and I love every bit of it.
On my very first trip to Turkey 5 years ago, I was waiting for a coworker friend of mine in the lobby, and struck up a conversation with a local woman who had just begun working at a nearby shop. (I've found that conversing with locals is the absolute BEST way to find out about a place - forget the guide books - the locals are "where its at"!) I asked her if there was any advice or suggestions that she would give to me, being that I was not just new to the city, but new to the entire country. After telling me of some local historical monuments I should explore, I asked her if there was anything, culturally speaking, that I should know of, before I headed out to see her fair city. She said "Yes. There is one very important thing. If you are ever offered a beverage, such as tea, in a shop, you should ALWAYS accept this offer and sit down to enjoy your beverage with the shopkeeper. It is considered a rude, 'slap in the face' - so to speak - if you decline this offer of refreshment. Always remember this.", she said. I thanked her for her suggestions, met my friend, and departed for my exploration. As we were leaving, I thought of this woman's advice, and since I had spent NO time, thus far, in this part of the world (I was new to my airline and the cities we travel to), I began to think of a typical shopping experience back in the States. When, had I EVER been offered a beverage by a shopkeeper? maybe once? twice? in my lifetime? So in my mind, it seemed to reason, that such an offer would probably be few and far between here in Turkey, as well. Boy, was I WRONG. Our first stop was a Turkish rug store I had heard a great deal about from my coworkers, and wouldn't you know it? We weren't in the front door 2 seconds, before the owner of the shop was ushering us to the back room, which doubled as a 2nd showroom, and was offering us tea, coffee, Coca-Colas and little cakes to go along with our liquid refreshment. I smiled at the thought of my "new" friend I had met at the hotel and her advice, and thankfully accepted a delicious cup of tea and a little cake. Instantly, EVERY single worker in the store was lining up in front of us, each with his own personal choices of different rugs, in every color and style.....it was like Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive....We sat, enjoyed our refreshments, and THEY brought the store to US. I was in heaven. And then, something even more surprising happened....the owner offered us his nephew to be our tour guide for the day. Insisted, actually. Our meager attempts at a "No, thank you, that won't be necessary" fell on deaf ears. It was decided. The nephew was going to be our escort for the rest of the day, and that was all there was to it! When we mentioned that we wanted to visit the beautiful mosque down the street, the owner of the shop quickly jumped into action, returning quickly with 2 of the most beautiful silk scarves I had ever seen (gifts, he stated, as a "welcome to his Country"), so that we would have something to wear on our heads, so that we would be allowed to enter the mosque. I was beyond touched. And what was so interesting to me was that all of this just seemed to be the 'norm' for the owner, his nephew, and the other employees of the shop. Just another day to them. Not for us, though. Not at all. People say "Its the little things in life that make the difference". These were "little" things to our new friends...."little" acts of generosity, kindness and friendship. But they were SO not "little" things to my friend and me. I was once again, forever changed. And all because of a cup of tea.
So, with Ahmed (the nephew) as our tour guide, we set out to venture around Adana, and wouldn't you know it? EVERY SINGLE TIME we stepped foot in another shop, the same offer of refreshments was bestowed upon us. I was blown away. What a lovely tradition. And one thing is for certain....it made me re-evaluate how I have, and forever will, greet and welcome foreigners to my OWN country, the USA, and how I only hope I can bestow upon these "new friends" the same amount of kindness, generosity and friendship, that was so unselfishly bestowed upon me.....in one of my newest, favorite 'little' cities - Adana, Turkey. But enough about that....i've been in 6 shops and have had 6 cups of tea and DESPERATELY need to find a Ladies Room!!!! :) Damn, i wish i knew how to speak Turkish!!!!
Ta ta for now....
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The waiting Traveler...part Two...2am to be exact
Hello from Leipzig Germany! yep....STILL here. Still waiting....I keep looking and looking at my company's scheduling website, hoping and praying that something, ANYTHING will pop up in the 'open trips' section. But so far...nada...zero....less than zero. There are actually some wonderful trips in there (Larnaca, Cyprus; Vienna, Austria; et al) but none that actually WORK out of Leipzig. Although they could 'position' me (that's airline code for flying me as a passenger on another airline to whatever city they need me in) to another fine city and actually put me to work, they have yet to do so. On our scheduling website, there's an ominous, bright red notice that will pop up, stating "YOU HAVE CHANGES TO YOUR SCHEDULE", that depending on who you're talking to, and what they're wanting (or NOT wanting) to do, will bring a huge smile to our face, our tears to our eyes. Some people would rather sit at home and get paid to just be 'on call'. Others (myself included) want to be out there, working our way around the world, seeing the sights and taking care of all my military boys & gals. Don't get me wrong, I love Leipzig. But we spend SO much time here, and I've seen all the 'sights' around town. I'm ready to explore someplace new. Hell, I just want to get out of this hotel room!
I had a nice surprise earlier this evening.....my Mom and I realized the other day that she pays a flat fee every month to have unlimited international calling from her home phone to Europe (how we didn't figure this out sooner, I have NO idea). So when my room phone rang earlier tonight, and I saw her phone number on the caller id, I was thrilled! We chatted for nearly an hour, and after all this time I've spent in my room (4 days now, going on 5), it was so wonderfully nice to hear her voice and catch up on all the 'goings on' back home. I know I've only been gone a few days, but my Mom is going through SO much right now, with her severe back pain and deciding to take the quarter off from teaching school this term. We usually talk every single day (I love my Mom SO much. She's the best. Hands down), so when we don't talk for a few days, it seems like forever. It pains me to no end that I'm not there right now to help her with everything....but being the wonderful Mom (and friend) that she is, she reminds me that I have to go out and live my life, make a living, and see the world, and that she has friends, and thankfully, my brother Reid, who can help her with anything she needs. I'm truly thankful for that. Plus, I'm lucky enough to have 11 days off every month, so next month, I'll be able to be there for her, if only for 11 days. Its better than nothing.
My brother Reid is quite a character. He's actually one of the coolest guys I've ever met, or ever WILL meet, for that matter. After nearly 10 years of us not living in the same state as the other, he's FINALLY found his way back to Atlanta; something that makes me very happy. Besides the obvious 'fun' factor, of being able to pal around with my brother again, I love that he's nearby my Mom, as well....I know it makes my Mom really happy to have both her 'kids' :) living near her again, and its great that we can both help her out, whenever she needs it. My brother is a high-flying corporate jet pilot, who's been working his way up the ladder of corporate "pilotdom" for the past 8 years. He's finally made captain, and seems to be enjoying the good life of great friends, great career, great girlfriend, etc, etc, that he all so rightfully deserves. I couldn't be happier for him. He's a treasure and I'm blessed to have such a fantastic, cool brother.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The waiting Traveler....part one....
So here I am....the Traveler 'on the road'....out seeing the world of adventures and experiences that await me.....oh wait, that's someone else. Me? I'm exploring the world of the Renasissance Hotel in Leipzig, Germany. Room 342, to be exact. And what wonders abound! Little soaps, a TV that has ONE English channel - CNN (which I hate), and an air conditioner that refuses to cool below 80 degrees Farenheit. Oh, the fun that is my life. No, I'm not complaining...well not ALOT....you see, my airline has this wonderful assignment that I've been thrilled to accept - its called "Online Reserve". We all cringe when we see it placed on our schedule. Its so bad that they have to 'rotate out' people to do it, that way no one is assigned it more than once every few months. The requirements? You SIT. And WAIT. Then SIT and WAIT some more. And you have to be within (literally) 10 feet of the room's telephone at all times, as you're required to answer the phone on the first call (no voicemail or callbacks allowed). You're at the mercy of our airline's scheduling department. Want to step out for a bite to eat? You have to call and get PERMISSION. Need some items at the drugstore? PERMISSION. Want to get even a tiny whiff of fresh air? PERMISSION, PERMISSION, PERMISSION. And even then, you're only allowed about a half hour, before you have to be back in your room.
This assignment causes us flight attendants to go to some drastic measures for entertainment and 'creature comforts'. You can always tell if a flight attendant has been assigned Online Reserve by the mountains of luggage which accompany them. Me? I'm packed to the rafters with so many magazines and books that I could open my own Barnes & Noble. I literally need BOTH hands to hoist my 3 suitcases up a single step (to be fair, its not QUITE as bad as it sounds...its a monstrous suitcase and 2 very large carry-ons). I have enough salon products and toiletries to last me a month (I'm on call this time for 40 days straight - yep, you read that right - 40 days). I have with me every possible clothing ensemble that I could stretch into my suitcase. I have 7 pairs of shoes with me (yes, the 'girlie-girl' in me is beginning to show, I know). I even have my stuffed animal puppy dog with me (I can't sleep without it).
After 10 years of international travel, I've come to carry what some might consider somewhat odd items with me in my mountains of luggage. So for those of you non-flight attendants, I will give you a glimpse into the rarely seen world of flight attendant baggage (actual baggage, not 'mental baggage', which, speaking for myself, I have a lot of THAT, as well. Hell, I'll admit it. I'm self -aware enough - I've got baggage from Samsonite, baggage in my brain, and baggage (or rather puffy bags) under my eyes). Want to know what to pack for your next international trip? Forget the "Travel Tip" websites out there......If you REALLY want to know what 'must haves' you need to take, ask a flight attendant! (And by the way, I'm sorry that this post isn't going to fill your thoughts with all the wonders of the sites and sounds of Leipzig Germany....I've got to work with what I've got....and I've got to write this post within 10 feet of the telephone at all times....so here goes....)
This assignment causes us flight attendants to go to some drastic measures for entertainment and 'creature comforts'. You can always tell if a flight attendant has been assigned Online Reserve by the mountains of luggage which accompany them. Me? I'm packed to the rafters with so many magazines and books that I could open my own Barnes & Noble. I literally need BOTH hands to hoist my 3 suitcases up a single step (to be fair, its not QUITE as bad as it sounds...its a monstrous suitcase and 2 very large carry-ons). I have enough salon products and toiletries to last me a month (I'm on call this time for 40 days straight - yep, you read that right - 40 days). I have with me every possible clothing ensemble that I could stretch into my suitcase. I have 7 pairs of shoes with me (yes, the 'girlie-girl' in me is beginning to show, I know). I even have my stuffed animal puppy dog with me (I can't sleep without it).
After 10 years of international travel, I've come to carry what some might consider somewhat odd items with me in my mountains of luggage. So for those of you non-flight attendants, I will give you a glimpse into the rarely seen world of flight attendant baggage (actual baggage, not 'mental baggage', which, speaking for myself, I have a lot of THAT, as well. Hell, I'll admit it. I'm self -aware enough - I've got baggage from Samsonite, baggage in my brain, and baggage (or rather puffy bags) under my eyes). Want to know what to pack for your next international trip? Forget the "Travel Tip" websites out there......If you REALLY want to know what 'must haves' you need to take, ask a flight attendant! (And by the way, I'm sorry that this post isn't going to fill your thoughts with all the wonders of the sites and sounds of Leipzig Germany....I've got to work with what I've got....and I've got to write this post within 10 feet of the telephone at all times....so here goes....)
A few 'must have' items from a flight attendant's suitcase
A FEW 'MUST HAVE' ITEMS FROM A FLIGHT ATTENDANT'S SUITCASE:
1. Ziploc bags - lots of them and ALL sizes. Organize everything you're taking with you and put it all into ziplocs. I'm BIG into ziploc bags. I love them! That way, when you go to open your suicase after its been rolling around the cargo hold of a 747, and has been rummaged through by every TSA agent that exists, you won't find every item you own all mish-mashed and thoroughly destroyed. I'm actually a bit OCD about organizing...I'll admit it. Take your jewelry and separate it by necklaces, bracelets, etc. Put each group in its own separate "mini snack ziploc" (my absolute favorites) and then place all the mini-ziplocs in one big ziploc. Boom. You've got all your jewelry ready to go. Toiletries - again, separate by 'topic' (if you will)....night-time regime in one, manicure and nail repair kit in another, miscellaneous items like a sewing kit in another, razor and refills in another, etc, etc...then, like before, place all these little ziplocs in a big one, and place them all in a bigger ziploc. You'll save tons of time when you go to get ready...everything has its place and you can see where everything is. Most importantly, if something leaks or spills, you wont end up with astringent or cuticle cream all over everything you own...it will be nicely contained in its own little ziploc baggie. I cant tell you how many times this has saved me....saved me time, and most importantly, saved my clothes. AHHH...how I love my ziplocs. Anything and everything can go in one....Undies....you can separate by bras, panties, stockings, etc, and dont forget to bring an empty, extra large ziploc for placing items in it that need to be laundered, after you've worn them....but enough about ziplocs....you get the picture.
2. A fleece blanket and memory foam U-shaped travel pillow. With the airline economy in the toilet, you're lucky to even GET a pillow and blanket these days. And trust me when I say, that you don't WANT to use them, even if you get one. They're nasty and dirty (even if they ARE wrapped in plastic). You don't want to know what most of these blankets and pillows have been through -I'll spare you the details, but people can be vile creatures - just an example though - have you ever seen a mom change a baby's dirty diaper on an airplane? well think about it...what does she lay down on the seats BEFORE she changes that sweet little baby's poopy diaper?? An AIRPLANE BLANKET, that's what! enough said. As for the blanket you're going to bring with you, fleece is a fantastic material. It keeps you extra warm under those airplane vents that are blasting you with cold air and are inevitably 'stuck' wide open, and it can be rolled up and crammed into even the tiniest of carry-on bags. And the memory-foam travel pillow is something I swear by...my friend loaned me hers a few years ago, and I was instantly hooked. I've actually been able to get some restful sleep on an airplane after I invested in my own. Don't waste your time with the travel pillows you can blow up. They're useless. The Tempurpedic Memory Foam is worth its weight in gold. And just like the fleece, it can be squished up (literally into the size of a tennis ball) and stuffed into your carry on. And while we're on the subject of 'creature comforts' for sleeping on the plane, don't forget your eyemask, ear plugs and socks. These little items can actually make it possible for you to arrive somewhat refreshed, even if you're stuck in a middle seat in coach class, on a 14 hour nonstop. Trust me.
3. A travel fan. This may seem like an odd addition to the list, but its something I've now placed in the 'can't live without' category. You see, most places around the world don't have our American obsession with air conditioning. And most places, even Alaska, have heat waves. Even if it's 85 degrees outside, chances are, your hotel's air conditioning system won't be able to cool you down, under the unforgiving (and HOT) lights, over the mirrors in the bathroom. And if you're anything like me, those lights can make you sweat. And bad. Many is the time that I've just applied my foundation, only to find it now dripping down the sides of my face. The solution? A mini, battery operated travel fan. You can find all kinds to choose from at your nearest WalMart. I found one that folds in half and literally takes up no more than a few inches in my suitcase. Its a lifesaver. Like I mentioned before, I'm a girlie-girl and I want my makeup to look perfect. The last thing I want is to have it dripping down my face before I've even had the chance to walk out the door!
4. Travel Sized Febreeze, Downy Wrinkle Releaser, and Clorox Sanitizing Spray
It's expensive as hell to use ANY hotel's dry cleaning or laundering service. And most of us are WAY too busy to find a laundromat while adventuring around the world. So, to save time, and precious space in your suitcase, start by bringing Febreeze with you. Its fantastic. Spritz some on your clothes and you can get an extra day's wearing out of your favorite outfit. And here's a little known fact....unlike most hotels in the U.S., you'll be hard "pressed" (no pun intended lol) to find an iron and ironing board in nearly any hotel overseas. They just don't provide them. So here's the solution.....Downy Wrinkle Releaser and your shower. That's right. Your SHOWER. Take whatever outfit needs ironing and spray it down with the Downy Wrinkle Releaser. Then hang them in your bathroom and turn the shower on, on its hottest setting possible. Then close the door and let the steam do the work. It takes about 15-20 minutes, and your clothes will be wrinkle-free and will smell just as fresh as can be. And finally, the Clorox. This is a DEFINITE 'must have'. Its the first thing I get out of my bags, when I go to unpack. We've all seen those horrific stories on 20/20 showing the bacteria that can be found in even the 'cleanest-looking' hotel rooms out there. Clorox Sanitizing Spray (or a mini-Lysol) is the answer. Its the first thing I do. I spray everything. The telephone receiver and keypad. The light switches. The tv remote (those NEVER get cleaned). The bathroom fixtures. You name it - if its been touched by another living soul, I spray it, and spray it good. Even if you have a kick-ass immune system (unlike my own), I'd make this a habit. Your health, and your pocketbook (a trip to the ER in a foreign country is expensive!) will thank you for it.
5. A travel alarm clock. This seems pretty self-explanatory. But truth be known, 99% of the hotels I've stayed in overseas, don't have a single clock in the room (except for maybe, if you're lucky, on the tv). Many is the time where I've woken up and needed to call the front desk to find out what time it is. (Or what DAY it is, if its been a rather long trip. lol). So now, my alarm clock stays in my suitcase, no matter what. I never unpack it. Its a lifesaver. Especially if you can't miss waking up for a flight, and you don't want to depend on the possibly unreliable front desk's wake-up call.
6. About $20 worth of single-dollar bills. Tipping is a weird thing overseas. Most restaurants outside the U.S. actually PAY their servers to wait on you (unlike the measly $2.13/hr that is the norm in the States). So tipping in overseas restaurants usually consists of rounding up to the nearest dollar or two, to say 'thank you' for the service. (I always ask the hotel's front desk for guidance on this when i'm in a new country. Every country is different and I like to always be aware of the correct procedure, so as not to appear like the 'ugly American tourist'). Outside of restaurants, its a completely different story. You should ALWAYS tip a hotel van driver or taxi cab driver, even if you only have one suitcase, and no matter WHAT country you are in. This is the NORM. Although I can't count the times that I've seen families with 20+ suitcases on vacation from Disneyworld, who don't even grant the hotel van driver a single dollar as a thank you for lugging their suitcases off the van to the curb for them. This is unacceptable. If a hotel staffmember brings you a bucket of ice at 2 in the morning, you should tip them a dollar. Even if its 2 in the afternoon, you should still tip them. And be advised: you should always tip in BILLS, not change. You see, no matter where in the world you are, a driver/staff member, etc, can usually find somewhere to exchange a dollar bill. (Almost every hotel/bank will exchange money). But they can't exchange coins into their local currency. Coins are useless. And of course, if I have it, I always prefer to tip in local currency. But chances are, if i've just arrived in a country, I probably haven't had time to exchange any money. Thus, the $20 or so I carry in one-dollar bills works in a pinch. It may not be expected, but that meager $1 (or more if you're so obliged) tip is ALWAYS appreciated. Always strive to be the "Beautiful American Traveler" and NEVER the "Ugly American Tourist." This little gesture (among many others) will help set you apart.
And last, but quite certainly, not least:
7. A camera, and either a writing journal or your laptop
Thoughts and memories fade.....photos and the written word, do not. I cherish nothing more than a little time spent, looking through photos of my travel adventures, re-living the experience through the smiles on mine and my companions' faces. I never know when I'll be revisiting a city, so if I have a fantastic entree, at a little-known bistro, on a street I'll never find again, I write down the restaurant's name and what I ate, so that I can find it again, should my luck bring me to that city once again. Enough cannot be said on this subject.....so I will leave it at this - with every passing year, I know that my thoughts and memories are slowly fading....but I KNOW that my photos and travel journal will last me a lifetime. With any luck, I'll be able to share them with my grandchildren, many many decades from now. I can only hope....
1. Ziploc bags - lots of them and ALL sizes. Organize everything you're taking with you and put it all into ziplocs. I'm BIG into ziploc bags. I love them! That way, when you go to open your suicase after its been rolling around the cargo hold of a 747, and has been rummaged through by every TSA agent that exists, you won't find every item you own all mish-mashed and thoroughly destroyed. I'm actually a bit OCD about organizing...I'll admit it. Take your jewelry and separate it by necklaces, bracelets, etc. Put each group in its own separate "mini snack ziploc" (my absolute favorites) and then place all the mini-ziplocs in one big ziploc. Boom. You've got all your jewelry ready to go. Toiletries - again, separate by 'topic' (if you will)....night-time regime in one, manicure and nail repair kit in another, miscellaneous items like a sewing kit in another, razor and refills in another, etc, etc...then, like before, place all these little ziplocs in a big one, and place them all in a bigger ziploc. You'll save tons of time when you go to get ready...everything has its place and you can see where everything is. Most importantly, if something leaks or spills, you wont end up with astringent or cuticle cream all over everything you own...it will be nicely contained in its own little ziploc baggie. I cant tell you how many times this has saved me....saved me time, and most importantly, saved my clothes. AHHH...how I love my ziplocs. Anything and everything can go in one....Undies....you can separate by bras, panties, stockings, etc, and dont forget to bring an empty, extra large ziploc for placing items in it that need to be laundered, after you've worn them....but enough about ziplocs....you get the picture.
2. A fleece blanket and memory foam U-shaped travel pillow. With the airline economy in the toilet, you're lucky to even GET a pillow and blanket these days. And trust me when I say, that you don't WANT to use them, even if you get one. They're nasty and dirty (even if they ARE wrapped in plastic). You don't want to know what most of these blankets and pillows have been through -I'll spare you the details, but people can be vile creatures - just an example though - have you ever seen a mom change a baby's dirty diaper on an airplane? well think about it...what does she lay down on the seats BEFORE she changes that sweet little baby's poopy diaper?? An AIRPLANE BLANKET, that's what! enough said. As for the blanket you're going to bring with you, fleece is a fantastic material. It keeps you extra warm under those airplane vents that are blasting you with cold air and are inevitably 'stuck' wide open, and it can be rolled up and crammed into even the tiniest of carry-on bags. And the memory-foam travel pillow is something I swear by...my friend loaned me hers a few years ago, and I was instantly hooked. I've actually been able to get some restful sleep on an airplane after I invested in my own. Don't waste your time with the travel pillows you can blow up. They're useless. The Tempurpedic Memory Foam is worth its weight in gold. And just like the fleece, it can be squished up (literally into the size of a tennis ball) and stuffed into your carry on. And while we're on the subject of 'creature comforts' for sleeping on the plane, don't forget your eyemask, ear plugs and socks. These little items can actually make it possible for you to arrive somewhat refreshed, even if you're stuck in a middle seat in coach class, on a 14 hour nonstop. Trust me.
3. A travel fan. This may seem like an odd addition to the list, but its something I've now placed in the 'can't live without' category. You see, most places around the world don't have our American obsession with air conditioning. And most places, even Alaska, have heat waves. Even if it's 85 degrees outside, chances are, your hotel's air conditioning system won't be able to cool you down, under the unforgiving (and HOT) lights, over the mirrors in the bathroom. And if you're anything like me, those lights can make you sweat. And bad. Many is the time that I've just applied my foundation, only to find it now dripping down the sides of my face. The solution? A mini, battery operated travel fan. You can find all kinds to choose from at your nearest WalMart. I found one that folds in half and literally takes up no more than a few inches in my suitcase. Its a lifesaver. Like I mentioned before, I'm a girlie-girl and I want my makeup to look perfect. The last thing I want is to have it dripping down my face before I've even had the chance to walk out the door!
4. Travel Sized Febreeze, Downy Wrinkle Releaser, and Clorox Sanitizing Spray
It's expensive as hell to use ANY hotel's dry cleaning or laundering service. And most of us are WAY too busy to find a laundromat while adventuring around the world. So, to save time, and precious space in your suitcase, start by bringing Febreeze with you. Its fantastic. Spritz some on your clothes and you can get an extra day's wearing out of your favorite outfit. And here's a little known fact....unlike most hotels in the U.S., you'll be hard "pressed" (no pun intended lol) to find an iron and ironing board in nearly any hotel overseas. They just don't provide them. So here's the solution.....Downy Wrinkle Releaser and your shower. That's right. Your SHOWER. Take whatever outfit needs ironing and spray it down with the Downy Wrinkle Releaser. Then hang them in your bathroom and turn the shower on, on its hottest setting possible. Then close the door and let the steam do the work. It takes about 15-20 minutes, and your clothes will be wrinkle-free and will smell just as fresh as can be. And finally, the Clorox. This is a DEFINITE 'must have'. Its the first thing I get out of my bags, when I go to unpack. We've all seen those horrific stories on 20/20 showing the bacteria that can be found in even the 'cleanest-looking' hotel rooms out there. Clorox Sanitizing Spray (or a mini-Lysol) is the answer. Its the first thing I do. I spray everything. The telephone receiver and keypad. The light switches. The tv remote (those NEVER get cleaned). The bathroom fixtures. You name it - if its been touched by another living soul, I spray it, and spray it good. Even if you have a kick-ass immune system (unlike my own), I'd make this a habit. Your health, and your pocketbook (a trip to the ER in a foreign country is expensive!) will thank you for it.
5. A travel alarm clock. This seems pretty self-explanatory. But truth be known, 99% of the hotels I've stayed in overseas, don't have a single clock in the room (except for maybe, if you're lucky, on the tv). Many is the time where I've woken up and needed to call the front desk to find out what time it is. (Or what DAY it is, if its been a rather long trip. lol). So now, my alarm clock stays in my suitcase, no matter what. I never unpack it. Its a lifesaver. Especially if you can't miss waking up for a flight, and you don't want to depend on the possibly unreliable front desk's wake-up call.
6. About $20 worth of single-dollar bills. Tipping is a weird thing overseas. Most restaurants outside the U.S. actually PAY their servers to wait on you (unlike the measly $2.13/hr that is the norm in the States). So tipping in overseas restaurants usually consists of rounding up to the nearest dollar or two, to say 'thank you' for the service. (I always ask the hotel's front desk for guidance on this when i'm in a new country. Every country is different and I like to always be aware of the correct procedure, so as not to appear like the 'ugly American tourist'). Outside of restaurants, its a completely different story. You should ALWAYS tip a hotel van driver or taxi cab driver, even if you only have one suitcase, and no matter WHAT country you are in. This is the NORM. Although I can't count the times that I've seen families with 20+ suitcases on vacation from Disneyworld, who don't even grant the hotel van driver a single dollar as a thank you for lugging their suitcases off the van to the curb for them. This is unacceptable. If a hotel staffmember brings you a bucket of ice at 2 in the morning, you should tip them a dollar. Even if its 2 in the afternoon, you should still tip them. And be advised: you should always tip in BILLS, not change. You see, no matter where in the world you are, a driver/staff member, etc, can usually find somewhere to exchange a dollar bill. (Almost every hotel/bank will exchange money). But they can't exchange coins into their local currency. Coins are useless. And of course, if I have it, I always prefer to tip in local currency. But chances are, if i've just arrived in a country, I probably haven't had time to exchange any money. Thus, the $20 or so I carry in one-dollar bills works in a pinch. It may not be expected, but that meager $1 (or more if you're so obliged) tip is ALWAYS appreciated. Always strive to be the "Beautiful American Traveler" and NEVER the "Ugly American Tourist." This little gesture (among many others) will help set you apart.
And last, but quite certainly, not least:
7. A camera, and either a writing journal or your laptop
Thoughts and memories fade.....photos and the written word, do not. I cherish nothing more than a little time spent, looking through photos of my travel adventures, re-living the experience through the smiles on mine and my companions' faces. I never know when I'll be revisiting a city, so if I have a fantastic entree, at a little-known bistro, on a street I'll never find again, I write down the restaurant's name and what I ate, so that I can find it again, should my luck bring me to that city once again. Enough cannot be said on this subject.....so I will leave it at this - with every passing year, I know that my thoughts and memories are slowly fading....but I KNOW that my photos and travel journal will last me a lifetime. With any luck, I'll be able to share them with my grandchildren, many many decades from now. I can only hope....
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
One of those days.....
My apologies, in advance, that this post is going to be less-than-vivacious and happy. You see, I'm having a 'mental health day', and not the GOOD mental health day where you take the day off, go to the spa to clear your mind, and treat yourself to all the spa deliciousness you can indulge in. This is a BAD 'mental health day'. Depression has become my friend, my constant companion today and I can't seem to shake it. It all started when I went to the pharmacy to get my daily prescriptions filled, and I realized, that I was handing over 12 different prescriptions all at once. You name the illness, I take a pill for it. And they're not 'minor' illnesses where you take a pill for a few weeks and you're as good as gold. These are years after years, day after day, taking handfuls of pills every morning, noon and night types of illnesses. I'm not looking for pity here....oh no....not at all. I've come to accept that this particular area of my life is my 'cross to bear' and on most days, I'm ok with it. But today....well....not so much. My health - physical, mental and emotional health - is a balancing act. And some days, I just get tired of it all.
And then, it all starts to flood in....it takes over the rational, logical side of my brain and I find myself with the weight of the world, on my shoulders.....I'm alone....no relationship in sight....I'm closing in on 36 and my biological clock is ticking constantly and LOUDLY. I'm sick, again, with the flu this time, and a sinus infection that has taken up permanent, unwelcomed residence in my sinus cavities. And apparently, from my symptoms, its getting worse....and quickly. I have chronic illnesses that I will most likely have to deal with for the rest of my life. I have more physician specialists than best friends. I'm seeing 2 of them in the next 2 days. I see them so often, that I've come to consider some of them as extended family. They are the guardians of my health and I hug them all after each of my visits. I am blessed to have such wonderful doctors who care for me, but I guess the fact that I have SO many of them, starts to crank up the old depression factor, and it just takes over my brain.
At the same time, I think of my Mom.....her struggles with surviving breast cancer, her constant excruciating pain from degenerative discs in her back, the fact that she's just told me tonight that she will be needing to buy a cane to help her walk. And then I feel all the more horrible than before. Horrible, because in the light of day, my struggles seem so insignificant in comparison to what my Mom is dealing with. She amazes me, as she struggles through her pain, every waking moment of her day, and is still able to live a full life of friends, work, family. I honestly don't know how she does it. She is my hero. And I feel so insignificant, health-wise, when I look at her and her medical struggles. She tells me (just like a wonderful Mom would) that we cannot compare our situations, because every situation is different; she tells me that she feels the pain of MY medical struggles, just as I feel the pain of HERS. And this makes me pause....pause to hope, wish and pray that somehow, somewhere, we could just snap our fingers and make it all go away. Where is a fairy medical godmother when you need one?
But that's just it....there is NO fairy godmother.......so we have to keep "fighting the good fight". Putting one foot in front of the other. I thought (or rather, hoped) that by writing about my severe depression today, I would somehow have the veil of sadness lifted. But all I've been able to do is receive a bit of clarity....Clarity isn't a bad thing....it helps bring me back to the rational/logical side of my brain, and helps me to remember all of the things in my life that I have to be grateful for. It doesn't wipe away the depression, but it DOES give me something to think about that might just balance out the depression just a bit.....I need that. Especially after the conversation with my Mom, where she felt it necessary to ask me if I was having any suicidal thoughts. My heart aches that my Mom would know me so well, that she needs to ask me this every once in a while. My heart aches that my Mom would need to worry about this possibility. But I tell her "I'm Ok". Which of course she doesnt believe, but i AM able to tell her that the suicidal thoughts aren't there. Something to be thankful for. I've dealt with those demons before, many many times, and I DO know what to do, should they resurface. But thankfully, today is NOT one of those days. Just your 'run of the mill' depression that I fight with from time to time.
So like I said....this wasn't going to be a fun, traveling the world, kind of post.....it can't always be that kind of day. But I do know this.....when I started this blog, I swore to myself that it would always be a brutally honest accounting of my life....the good, the bad, the joy, the sorrow, the adventures, and the mundane.....There is power in stating and acknowledging things as they TRULY are. And I want to take back some of that power.....I've given that power away, along with parts of my spirit and soul, for way too long.....
So for now, I'm just going to sit with this feeling.....acknowledge it and try to move forward. And remember...."Tomorrow is another day...".
And then, it all starts to flood in....it takes over the rational, logical side of my brain and I find myself with the weight of the world, on my shoulders.....I'm alone....no relationship in sight....I'm closing in on 36 and my biological clock is ticking constantly and LOUDLY. I'm sick, again, with the flu this time, and a sinus infection that has taken up permanent, unwelcomed residence in my sinus cavities. And apparently, from my symptoms, its getting worse....and quickly. I have chronic illnesses that I will most likely have to deal with for the rest of my life. I have more physician specialists than best friends. I'm seeing 2 of them in the next 2 days. I see them so often, that I've come to consider some of them as extended family. They are the guardians of my health and I hug them all after each of my visits. I am blessed to have such wonderful doctors who care for me, but I guess the fact that I have SO many of them, starts to crank up the old depression factor, and it just takes over my brain.
At the same time, I think of my Mom.....her struggles with surviving breast cancer, her constant excruciating pain from degenerative discs in her back, the fact that she's just told me tonight that she will be needing to buy a cane to help her walk. And then I feel all the more horrible than before. Horrible, because in the light of day, my struggles seem so insignificant in comparison to what my Mom is dealing with. She amazes me, as she struggles through her pain, every waking moment of her day, and is still able to live a full life of friends, work, family. I honestly don't know how she does it. She is my hero. And I feel so insignificant, health-wise, when I look at her and her medical struggles. She tells me (just like a wonderful Mom would) that we cannot compare our situations, because every situation is different; she tells me that she feels the pain of MY medical struggles, just as I feel the pain of HERS. And this makes me pause....pause to hope, wish and pray that somehow, somewhere, we could just snap our fingers and make it all go away. Where is a fairy medical godmother when you need one?
But that's just it....there is NO fairy godmother.......so we have to keep "fighting the good fight". Putting one foot in front of the other. I thought (or rather, hoped) that by writing about my severe depression today, I would somehow have the veil of sadness lifted. But all I've been able to do is receive a bit of clarity....Clarity isn't a bad thing....it helps bring me back to the rational/logical side of my brain, and helps me to remember all of the things in my life that I have to be grateful for. It doesn't wipe away the depression, but it DOES give me something to think about that might just balance out the depression just a bit.....I need that. Especially after the conversation with my Mom, where she felt it necessary to ask me if I was having any suicidal thoughts. My heart aches that my Mom would know me so well, that she needs to ask me this every once in a while. My heart aches that my Mom would need to worry about this possibility. But I tell her "I'm Ok". Which of course she doesnt believe, but i AM able to tell her that the suicidal thoughts aren't there. Something to be thankful for. I've dealt with those demons before, many many times, and I DO know what to do, should they resurface. But thankfully, today is NOT one of those days. Just your 'run of the mill' depression that I fight with from time to time.
So like I said....this wasn't going to be a fun, traveling the world, kind of post.....it can't always be that kind of day. But I do know this.....when I started this blog, I swore to myself that it would always be a brutally honest accounting of my life....the good, the bad, the joy, the sorrow, the adventures, and the mundane.....There is power in stating and acknowledging things as they TRULY are. And I want to take back some of that power.....I've given that power away, along with parts of my spirit and soul, for way too long.....
So for now, I'm just going to sit with this feeling.....acknowledge it and try to move forward. And remember...."Tomorrow is another day...".
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Precious Cargo
It's 2am....I'm awake in a dark room....but where am I? SERIOUSLY, WHERE AM I???? I struggle to find the switch for the light on my night stand. Finally, after knocking over every single thing on the table top, I find that ever-elusive light switch and fumble to turn it on. I look around. Nope. Still have absolutely NO idea where I am.....I reach over to find my glasses and realize that the telephone is my salvation. The telephone. The answer to my question. I rub my eyes, don my glasses that have seen better days (they've been rumbling around in my suitcase WAY too long) and I lean over to look at the phone. There it is. The Marriott in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Ah ha! Its all coming back to me. Then it hits me. Damn. It's 2am and I'm wide awake. This, among many more things to come, is an occupational hazard....forgetting where you are and needing something in writing to confirm your location. Its happened countless times....the hotel rooms are a blur....my "homes away from home". Same old room....the overly coordinated chairs and nightstands, the sometimes yes, sometimes SO not, comfortable beds, the 'business style' desk and chair with (hopefully free - a gift from the Gods) internet connection, the bathroom with the mini-soaps and shampoos that I so rarely use (I've come to bring ALL of my own products - I'm a walking drugstore/salon)...its all there. Same thing, different city. And honest to God, I love all of it. It means that I'm on the other side of the world, in a new and inviting city, ready to be explored....although I WILL wait 'til daylight to begin my exploration.
So in spite of sleeping medication that would put down a Clydesdale, I'm awake. Time to check my email inbox. I pop open a diet coke, (there it is again, my 'addiction' :)) and flip on my computer. I pray that there is SOMETHING in my inbox that will connect me to my world back at home....a seemingly insignificant email from a friend or family member, but OH so significant, something that will make my day. What did we do before the internet? How did the average flight attendant SURVIVE without it? what did they do at 2am when they couldn't sleep? I'll tell you what they did....they struggled to go back to sleep, woke early with a hot cup of coffee, and got out and EXPLORED. I tip my hat and bow down to them. They were the "traveler warriors". They actually CARRIED (not ROLLED) their bags through the airport. They wore mile-high heels (bunions be damned!) and ALWAYS looked impeccable to a fault in their uniforms. They served champagne and 5 course meals in first class. Their makeup was beautiful, even after a 16 hour work day. They NEVER wore flat, frumpy shoes inflight. And they never, EVER, stopped smiling.
Flash forward a few decades....traveling has changed. A LOT. Although I have to say right now, that I am proud to work with the people I fly with, because while lots of things have changed, those smiles have never gone away. I work with a crazy bunch. Being trapped on a metal tube, hurdling forward at 500 miles per hour can make you a bit "cagey". But my group of coworkers is a rare bunch....much different than many of the flight attendants you see today....(my apologies to those of the wonderful 'mainline' folks that ARE out there) but my coworkers come to work ready to serve. We may not serve 5 course meals anymore, and hell, we dont even have first class on our planes, but we are there to serve... and you can see it in the eyes of my coworkers. We KNOW that our passengers are precious cargo....they are the proud men and women of the armed forces, and they are OURS to care for, even if for only a few hours. And yes, it's "Chicken or Pasta", "Chicken or Pasta", "Chicken or Pasta" over and over again....350 times in a row to be exact....(we have some Big ASS planes), but we offer that "Chicken or Pasta" with style and panache and ALL the love and care in the world. Our passengers aren't on their way to Disneyland or the beach....they're on their way to WAR and we may just be the last civilian contact they have for a very, very long time.
Ahhh....MY passengers.....they are incredible. They are exhausted, worn down, covered with sweat and sand, carrying rucksacks and weapons, not oversized, unapproved carry-ons and Mickey Mouse ears....they are thrilled to be served a hot meal, elated that they can have ice with their Cokes, and don't care that the movie selection has been out of theaters for months. I have yet to be (and never expect to be) yelled at by a passenger....they are too polite for that. I have been called "ma'am" more times than I can imagine, and have seen more photos of soldiers' wives, husbands and kids than I can count. And I truly cherish every single "ma'am" and photo. As someone wise once said, "I am their wife, their girlfriend, their parent, their friend, their soulmate, their buddy, and their sounding board." I have laughed, and cried, with my passengers many MANY times. And it never, ever gets old. There is nothing like the flights HOME, with the eager, anticipating faces on my passengers' faces....and there is nothing worse than saying goodbye and thank you to them, fighting back tears, as I send them off to war. I always say a prayer, for every single one of them, and many times have to excuse myself to the comfort of the isolated lavatory, so that I can sob in private. It never gets easier. They are my precious cargo and I thank God every day for letting me be a part of their journey.
For they will always, and forever, be a part of mine......
So in spite of sleeping medication that would put down a Clydesdale, I'm awake. Time to check my email inbox. I pop open a diet coke, (there it is again, my 'addiction' :)) and flip on my computer. I pray that there is SOMETHING in my inbox that will connect me to my world back at home....a seemingly insignificant email from a friend or family member, but OH so significant, something that will make my day. What did we do before the internet? How did the average flight attendant SURVIVE without it? what did they do at 2am when they couldn't sleep? I'll tell you what they did....they struggled to go back to sleep, woke early with a hot cup of coffee, and got out and EXPLORED. I tip my hat and bow down to them. They were the "traveler warriors". They actually CARRIED (not ROLLED) their bags through the airport. They wore mile-high heels (bunions be damned!) and ALWAYS looked impeccable to a fault in their uniforms. They served champagne and 5 course meals in first class. Their makeup was beautiful, even after a 16 hour work day. They NEVER wore flat, frumpy shoes inflight. And they never, EVER, stopped smiling.
Flash forward a few decades....traveling has changed. A LOT. Although I have to say right now, that I am proud to work with the people I fly with, because while lots of things have changed, those smiles have never gone away. I work with a crazy bunch. Being trapped on a metal tube, hurdling forward at 500 miles per hour can make you a bit "cagey". But my group of coworkers is a rare bunch....much different than many of the flight attendants you see today....(my apologies to those of the wonderful 'mainline' folks that ARE out there) but my coworkers come to work ready to serve. We may not serve 5 course meals anymore, and hell, we dont even have first class on our planes, but we are there to serve... and you can see it in the eyes of my coworkers. We KNOW that our passengers are precious cargo....they are the proud men and women of the armed forces, and they are OURS to care for, even if for only a few hours. And yes, it's "Chicken or Pasta", "Chicken or Pasta", "Chicken or Pasta" over and over again....350 times in a row to be exact....(we have some Big ASS planes), but we offer that "Chicken or Pasta" with style and panache and ALL the love and care in the world. Our passengers aren't on their way to Disneyland or the beach....they're on their way to WAR and we may just be the last civilian contact they have for a very, very long time.
Ahhh....MY passengers.....they are incredible. They are exhausted, worn down, covered with sweat and sand, carrying rucksacks and weapons, not oversized, unapproved carry-ons and Mickey Mouse ears....they are thrilled to be served a hot meal, elated that they can have ice with their Cokes, and don't care that the movie selection has been out of theaters for months. I have yet to be (and never expect to be) yelled at by a passenger....they are too polite for that. I have been called "ma'am" more times than I can imagine, and have seen more photos of soldiers' wives, husbands and kids than I can count. And I truly cherish every single "ma'am" and photo. As someone wise once said, "I am their wife, their girlfriend, their parent, their friend, their soulmate, their buddy, and their sounding board." I have laughed, and cried, with my passengers many MANY times. And it never, ever gets old. There is nothing like the flights HOME, with the eager, anticipating faces on my passengers' faces....and there is nothing worse than saying goodbye and thank you to them, fighting back tears, as I send them off to war. I always say a prayer, for every single one of them, and many times have to excuse myself to the comfort of the isolated lavatory, so that I can sob in private. It never gets easier. They are my precious cargo and I thank God every day for letting me be a part of their journey.
For they will always, and forever, be a part of mine......
Friday, July 10, 2009
A bit about me.....
Hi! I'm Megan. Thanks for taking the time to stop by and read my little ol'blog :) I am 29 years old (for the 5th year in a row, now, thank you VERY much)! and I love the life that I have been blessed to be given. I believe that every day is a journey, be it on the ground, or at 35,000 feet, or in some exquisite (and at times, abysmal) place around the Globe. Yes, I'm a "buh-bye, buh-bye" saying, always smiling in spite of 4inch heels, toting a huge rolling suitcase of epic proportions through a mile long airport - still smiling of course!, drink-slinging, oxygen mask demo-ing, your exits are THAT way pointing, good old fashioned flight attendant (or "stewardess" for those of you who remember the glory days of flying!)And (yikes) I've been doing this for nearly 10 years! (And absolutely LOVING every minute of it). I started out with a major air carrier, but after being furloughed, I stumbled my way into the job-of-all-jobs - working for a military charter airline! The destinations are amazing, my coworkers are delightful and loads-of-fun, but more than anything, I LOVE MY PASSENGERS - ALL of my Marines, Soldiers, Airmen and Sailors make my life complete. They live to serve,in every single sense of the word, and so, I make it my life's mission to serve them, for the few rare moments I get to spend with them during a mission. Seeing their faces is the light of my day. But much more on this later....And yes, I DO have a life away from work, but what a fantastic gift it is to have a job you anxiously await to go to, every single day you work! As for my home life, I am lucky enough to live close to my family (the hearts of my soul), I have wonderful friends I pass the time with....I have yet to marry, but have been close a few times. My fingers are crossed that the right one will come my way soon, with the hope of a marriage and kids, to follow...but in the meantime, I make the most of ALL of the blessings in my life...family, friends, work, a happy home....So, as I continue my journey, I invite you to join me....pull up a chair, grab a GREAT cup of java (life is WAY too short to drink bad coffee) and take a journey with me...through MY trip of a lifetime....and as always, "Welcome Aboard"!!!! :)
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Death, Life and the Birth of a Traveler
Pajamas.....I love pajamas....and I love them SO very much that I have managed to stay all day long in my pajamas. Some would call me a bum of epic proportions, but I choose to say that it's my day off and devil-be-damned, i'm going to do what I want!! Today is not a "Traveler" sort of day....but not too long ago (a few weeks ago to be exact), my life was nothing BUT being a Traveler....you see, I've just recently returned from the longest trip of my career - a 45 day trip. So I guess that now would be as good a time as any to explain how I've gotten to this point in my life....and to explain a bit further, why I have come to embody the life of a Traveler and Not a Tourist....
So picture it....Atlanta Georgia....December 1999 (note my ode to the fantastic wit that is "Sophia Petrillo"/Estelle Getty on my favorite of fave shows "The Golden Girls" - all you GG fans will understand the reference :)). So....December....a few days post-Christmas...I find myself crawling across the floor in excruciating pain, trying desperately to crawl to my then-boyfriend in the other room....as I cant muster the strength to yell to him. I need to go to the Emergency Room. NOW. Something is desperately wrong. He finds me passed out on the floor of my bedroom, carries me to the car and rushes me to the hospital. I am in and out of conciousness and still, to this day, do not know how he found the hospital, as he is not from Atlanta. We arrive at the ER, and, after a few quick tests, am rushed to the Operating Room. I am told that a torqued, grapefruit-size ovary is cutting off my blood supply. I remember seeing my mom standing over me, crying, and then I am out.....off to anesthesia never-neverland. The only other thing I remember is telling my gynecologist that I will kill him if he cuts through my adorable tattoo on my bikini line....he kept his word....it's still there, as cute as ever....a few centimeters from the now 5 inch scar where he cut into my body.
The next 24 hours are a blur....I remember people coming and going, and more than anything, I remember the feeling that I am slowly, but surely, drowning in my own fluids....I was terrified....I couldn't figure out why it was getting harder and harder to breathe, and something told me, haunted my fading thoughts, that I was getting ready to die. I was drowning, and I was dying. At some point, my Mom went home to change and shower, and apparently I called her....to her horror, I could barely speak because of my struggle to breathe....that is the last thing I remember. She stops everything she is doing and rushes back to the hospital, to find me in severe respiratory distress. (I remember none of this). After talking to my doctors, it is decided that I should be placed on life support, due to the fact that I have something called ARDS (Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome).......a phrase that unbeknownst to me will become something that will haunt me, and my health, for years to come. And as they say in the acting world......"And, Scene....".
- I'm in a coma, on life-support, on the brink of death, fighting for my life....-
Flash forward two weeks....it's dark....very, very dark....and my throat feels full and I can't breathe right....I'm confused and scared.....Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Hell? where AM I? I try to open my eyes but I can't....I'm so tired....I can't move.....and then, with all the strength I can gather, I slowly open my eyes to see my Mom, standing over me, with a smile on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks....she tells me she loves me. Tells me not to talk....tells me I can't talk because of a tube down my throat.....but I know, because of the look on her face, that I am SAFE. My Mom is my guardian angel....she has always been there, and always will be there.....I love her more than words can describe....and because of her, and ONLY her, I knew I would be OK....
So picture it....Atlanta Georgia....December 1999 (note my ode to the fantastic wit that is "Sophia Petrillo"/Estelle Getty on my favorite of fave shows "The Golden Girls" - all you GG fans will understand the reference :)). So....December....a few days post-Christmas...I find myself crawling across the floor in excruciating pain, trying desperately to crawl to my then-boyfriend in the other room....as I cant muster the strength to yell to him. I need to go to the Emergency Room. NOW. Something is desperately wrong. He finds me passed out on the floor of my bedroom, carries me to the car and rushes me to the hospital. I am in and out of conciousness and still, to this day, do not know how he found the hospital, as he is not from Atlanta. We arrive at the ER, and, after a few quick tests, am rushed to the Operating Room. I am told that a torqued, grapefruit-size ovary is cutting off my blood supply. I remember seeing my mom standing over me, crying, and then I am out.....off to anesthesia never-neverland. The only other thing I remember is telling my gynecologist that I will kill him if he cuts through my adorable tattoo on my bikini line....he kept his word....it's still there, as cute as ever....a few centimeters from the now 5 inch scar where he cut into my body.
The next 24 hours are a blur....I remember people coming and going, and more than anything, I remember the feeling that I am slowly, but surely, drowning in my own fluids....I was terrified....I couldn't figure out why it was getting harder and harder to breathe, and something told me, haunted my fading thoughts, that I was getting ready to die. I was drowning, and I was dying. At some point, my Mom went home to change and shower, and apparently I called her....to her horror, I could barely speak because of my struggle to breathe....that is the last thing I remember. She stops everything she is doing and rushes back to the hospital, to find me in severe respiratory distress. (I remember none of this). After talking to my doctors, it is decided that I should be placed on life support, due to the fact that I have something called ARDS (Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome).......a phrase that unbeknownst to me will become something that will haunt me, and my health, for years to come. And as they say in the acting world......"And, Scene....".
- I'm in a coma, on life-support, on the brink of death, fighting for my life....-
Flash forward two weeks....it's dark....very, very dark....and my throat feels full and I can't breathe right....I'm confused and scared.....Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Hell? where AM I? I try to open my eyes but I can't....I'm so tired....I can't move.....and then, with all the strength I can gather, I slowly open my eyes to see my Mom, standing over me, with a smile on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks....she tells me she loves me. Tells me not to talk....tells me I can't talk because of a tube down my throat.....but I know, because of the look on her face, that I am SAFE. My Mom is my guardian angel....she has always been there, and always will be there.....I love her more than words can describe....and because of her, and ONLY her, I knew I would be OK....
The next few minutes are a blur of nurses, doctors, medical equipment and an experience I will never, EVER forget....being "extubated". With panic taking over my body, I am told that they will count to three and then I need to cough, so they can remove my breathing tube. WHAT are they talking about? I'm confused and scared and panicked....the only thing keeping me from dying of terror is the feeling of my mom's hand around my own. I hang on for dear life......here it comes....1-2-3....COUGH....I feel like I'm throwing up from my lungs....as I cough, they pull on a long tube, which seems to be coming out of me at record-slow speed, and then finally.....I AM FREE.....I cough a few times and then that's it.....I take a few slow, steady breaths on my own. I look again at my Mom, who I'm now using as my sole-barometer to gauge if everything is ok, and the relief on her face is all I need to know....I realize I have NO idea what is going on, where I am, what day it is.....I certainly don't know that nearly 2 weeks have passed....but thanks to my Mom, I know that I will be ok. Exhausted, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, with my hand wrapped tightly around my Mom's.....I will be OK.....I will be OK.....I will be OK......
And thus, began my life as a Traveler....I began this NEW life by Traveling through Death, back to Life, and there was NO going back.....As my Mom slowly explained to me what I'd been through, that they thought they were going to lose me many, many times, I realize that I've finally started Living, not just floating through life....like a Tourist....I've experienced something that few would ever be able to survive, and I've lived to tell about it....and it was time to make some changes. MANY MANY changes. Time to start Traveling, in every sense of the word. To live my life with the exuberance of a man who has been granted a stay of execution....it was time to change. NOW. And so, I began my new life.....
More, MUCH more, to come.....
(it's time to get out of my pajamas.....it's time to Travel....)
One Simple Random Act of Kindness
91 Cents. That's it. That is all I have (or rather, HAD) to my name this afternoon when I realized I was on "negative-empty" in the old gas tank and I absolutely HAD to go to my doctor's appointment on the other side of town. As many of you already know, or will come to know in rapid fashion, I am utterly addicted to the sweet, savory, all-too-satisfying drug known as "Diet Coke". Luckily, I had decided to go super-bummed out today with the sweats that were gracing my physique in a fashion that would DEFINITELY qualify me for "What Not to Wear"'s 'worst dressed list'. but as luck would have it, I had aptly chosen my Grady EMS t-shirt out of the pile of "somewhat wearable" clothes on my bedroom floor....and to my utter surprise, I realized that wearing this shirt entitled me to a free Diet Coke refill in my Big Gulp!! (yes, it is ALWAYS with me - the big Gulp, not the tshirt)...but I digress....back to the 91 cents.
I mention the Diet Coke because as luck would have it (are you catching on to the 'luck' factor in this day's post??) my air conditioning in my car has called it quits and I was fantastically sweaty and parched and definitely needed some refreshment.....FREE refreshment (Most places give free refills to cops, EMS workers, firefighters, etc).
So, with my head held low, I VERY carefully carried my 91 cents (in small change of course...pennies and nickles - it figures) into the Quik Trip to partake of my free cooling beverage and pay for all the gas I could afford - 91 cents worth. I was mortified. Where had my money gone? What kind of person pays for 91 cents of gas? Could I get away with standing outside with a very sad sign stating "Will dance a jig for gas money"? (I'm a very good Irish dancer...a little known fact...). And then, to top off this entirely mortifying experience, a very large line began to form behind me and the clerk apparently started working there, like, 2 hours earlier, because I could hear the movement of the continents going faster than his poor attempt at counting my pennies and nickles at record-slow speed. So, with approximately 200 people now behind me in line, and my head now hanging down at ankle-level, I hear a voice from behind me that said to the clerk "Here....make it $1.91...." and he slid a single dolllar bill across the counter. I was beyond touched. I turned, frantically trying to think of some excuse to give this gracious young man some sort of explanation for why I am such a loser that I only have 91 cents to my name, but before I could get a word out of my mouth (he must have seen the utter shame in my eyes), he said "Hey....not a word.....we all need a little help every now and then". The only thing I had a chance to say was 'thank you' And then he was gone....out of my life forever....
One Simple, but SO SIGNIFICANT, Random Act of Kindness....
As I walked back to the pump, watching as every last penny of that precious dollar filled my gas tank, I thought of how many countless times we have every day where WE, where *I* could do the same for my fellow man....how many times I had turned the other way, or simply been lost in my own meaningless thoughts to realize that there might be someone standing next to me who could benefit from my own random act of charity....be it a dollar, a listening ear, or even just a smile. That 1 dollar might seem small, and insignificant, to most....but here's the progression I want to explain....by giving me that dollar, this gentleman made it possible for me to see my doctor, a very important appointment that without it, I might not be able to better my very-precarious health situation....he made it possible for me to better my health, which makes me able to go to work tomorrow, and to continue going to work so that I can put food on my table, keep a roof over my head, and hopefully, in the course of my travels and life, pass on another 'random act of kindness' to another... This man didn't know my medical history...he didn't know that on most days, my health hangs "in the balance"....that my health and body have failed me many times, multiple times placing me on the brink of death....he didn't know that by enabling me to get to my doctor's office, I am for one more blessed day able to 'fight the good fight' health-wise, and able to live the beautiful, glorious, love-filled life that I have been graced with. He didn't know any of this.....and he didn't care. He just wanted to help. And for that, I will be eternally, to-the-core grateful to him.
And so, as I begin my blog-quest, trying to find meaning in all that I encounter, I dedicate this blog to that man.....and to every man, woman and child like him.....for all the people that I am blessed to encounter on my travels, as I live my "Life As A Traveler, Not a Tourist".
I chose this title because I believe in everything it stands for.....a Tourist stands back, taking pictures and never getting involved, truly involved, in the experience that seeing the world around them can encompass. A Traveler IMMERSES themselves in everything around them....the people, the culture, the idiosyncracies of a place, forgetting for a moment where you are, but rather BECOMING the place where you stand. I hope and strive to live every day of my life this way, no matter where in the world I find myself....and as you will see, I find myself in many interesting, enticing, sometimes bizarre spots around the globe. But I hope, more than all of this, that I will encompass the "Traveler Mentality" in my everyday life....here at home, here in good ol' Roswell Georgia, so that the next time I recognize a moment to act in random kindness, I will not stand idly by, but will instead act on the moment....and slide that dollar bill across the counter to a stranger. I can only hope.....
I mention the Diet Coke because as luck would have it (are you catching on to the 'luck' factor in this day's post??) my air conditioning in my car has called it quits and I was fantastically sweaty and parched and definitely needed some refreshment.....FREE refreshment (Most places give free refills to cops, EMS workers, firefighters, etc).
So, with my head held low, I VERY carefully carried my 91 cents (in small change of course...pennies and nickles - it figures) into the Quik Trip to partake of my free cooling beverage and pay for all the gas I could afford - 91 cents worth. I was mortified. Where had my money gone? What kind of person pays for 91 cents of gas? Could I get away with standing outside with a very sad sign stating "Will dance a jig for gas money"? (I'm a very good Irish dancer...a little known fact...). And then, to top off this entirely mortifying experience, a very large line began to form behind me and the clerk apparently started working there, like, 2 hours earlier, because I could hear the movement of the continents going faster than his poor attempt at counting my pennies and nickles at record-slow speed. So, with approximately 200 people now behind me in line, and my head now hanging down at ankle-level, I hear a voice from behind me that said to the clerk "Here....make it $1.91...." and he slid a single dolllar bill across the counter. I was beyond touched. I turned, frantically trying to think of some excuse to give this gracious young man some sort of explanation for why I am such a loser that I only have 91 cents to my name, but before I could get a word out of my mouth (he must have seen the utter shame in my eyes), he said "Hey....not a word.....we all need a little help every now and then". The only thing I had a chance to say was 'thank you' And then he was gone....out of my life forever....
One Simple, but SO SIGNIFICANT, Random Act of Kindness....
As I walked back to the pump, watching as every last penny of that precious dollar filled my gas tank, I thought of how many countless times we have every day where WE, where *I* could do the same for my fellow man....how many times I had turned the other way, or simply been lost in my own meaningless thoughts to realize that there might be someone standing next to me who could benefit from my own random act of charity....be it a dollar, a listening ear, or even just a smile. That 1 dollar might seem small, and insignificant, to most....but here's the progression I want to explain....by giving me that dollar, this gentleman made it possible for me to see my doctor, a very important appointment that without it, I might not be able to better my very-precarious health situation....he made it possible for me to better my health, which makes me able to go to work tomorrow, and to continue going to work so that I can put food on my table, keep a roof over my head, and hopefully, in the course of my travels and life, pass on another 'random act of kindness' to another... This man didn't know my medical history...he didn't know that on most days, my health hangs "in the balance"....that my health and body have failed me many times, multiple times placing me on the brink of death....he didn't know that by enabling me to get to my doctor's office, I am for one more blessed day able to 'fight the good fight' health-wise, and able to live the beautiful, glorious, love-filled life that I have been graced with. He didn't know any of this.....and he didn't care. He just wanted to help. And for that, I will be eternally, to-the-core grateful to him.
And so, as I begin my blog-quest, trying to find meaning in all that I encounter, I dedicate this blog to that man.....and to every man, woman and child like him.....for all the people that I am blessed to encounter on my travels, as I live my "Life As A Traveler, Not a Tourist".
I chose this title because I believe in everything it stands for.....a Tourist stands back, taking pictures and never getting involved, truly involved, in the experience that seeing the world around them can encompass. A Traveler IMMERSES themselves in everything around them....the people, the culture, the idiosyncracies of a place, forgetting for a moment where you are, but rather BECOMING the place where you stand. I hope and strive to live every day of my life this way, no matter where in the world I find myself....and as you will see, I find myself in many interesting, enticing, sometimes bizarre spots around the globe. But I hope, more than all of this, that I will encompass the "Traveler Mentality" in my everyday life....here at home, here in good ol' Roswell Georgia, so that the next time I recognize a moment to act in random kindness, I will not stand idly by, but will instead act on the moment....and slide that dollar bill across the counter to a stranger. I can only hope.....
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