Two Faced

There are many things that I would like for Christmas: a bottle of Beyond Paradise by Estee Lauder, a silver crucifix, a bag of jewels, cool floor mats for my sweet ride, a digital camera.. But most of all, I would really like a watch with two faces. I have seen said watches on the arms of many a flight attendant, and its just one of those things that I feel is a complete necessity. It sure would have been helpful on a lunch date in IAH, when I thought my flight was leaving in five minutes, when in reality it was leaving in an HOUR and five minutes. It would have been a lovely accessory this past week in LA, so I could have actually used my watch to tell time with as opposed to tell time and then practice my (lack of) subtraction skills. I have searched the mall high and low for a two faced watch that doesn't make my arm rival Dani's from Shot of Love, or one that isn't so horrifically ugly that its three seasons old. Which is why today, during my session of (retail) therapy, I stalked down a BCBG silver girly watch and took a picture with my cell and sent it to every family member I know. Santa will bring it to me; its coming. I believe!

My Two (new) Pet Peeves

For those of you who know me, I have a lot of pet peeves. There's just a lot about human behavior that annoys me... and to be quite honest, there are things that even I do which fall into that category. You know, just one of those little Alyssa-isms that make me special. Regardless, here are my two new pet peeves.

1. Providing for yourself. If you have some sort of special dietary needs, then you need to provide for yourself. That would be like asking the passenger next to you if you could have some of their blood pressure or seizure medicine because you forgot yours. No dice. So when I offer you a pizza, don't ask if I have any without cheese. Last time I checked, pizza without cheese is a fancy, oddly shaped bread stick. And no, I'm not hiding the bread sticks in the back either.

2. ATC. Right now I should be headed on my way to the van to go to the airport for our on time departure and on time arrival. But there's weather, and in the NYC metro area, if there's even a cloud in the sky they act like Chicken Little and put a ground stop on everything. As of right now, we've got a three hour delay. And a half hour van time delay. Now, I know math is not my strong suit, but that just doesn't add up.

3. Four day trips. I'm tired, cranky, and my chickens are cooked. So looking forward to my three days off starting TOMORROW. This is the last four day I pick up in a long ass time - and last LAX I choose to do. I'm done now. (No worries SMH - SNA is not on my shit list, nor is SAN if you're in the mood for a road trip and excessive drinking with a sweet hotel room to crash in. Don't lie to me, I know you're game.)

Did I say two? I'm sure this list can go on but I'll save it for another rainy day.

I'm in Los Angeles today...

This morning I woke up at 4:00 am EST, and worked the first flight to LAX. And for the first time in a long time, I was surprised by the crowd. They were awesome. No one was excessively needy, there was no constant dinging (can I have a coke? sprite? seltzer? water? apple juice? beer?). My only complaint is that this time of year, with the jet stream, flight time to the west coast is averaging about 5:45+ which sucks. I feel your pain; don't think for a minute that I'm enjoying this more that you passengers. As we were approaching the end of the flight a gentleman asked me how much longer. I responded with "about an hour and a half". The should be blond behind him then proceeded to ask me the same question. "How much longer?" "An hour and a half" This time I had a huffy tone and was less than pleased. Its like you're that kid in lecture who thinks that they are asking some brill ant question when in reality, if you were paying attention, the professor just totally answered it. After I responded to Miss I wish I were blond b/c then I'd have an excuse, someone else on the other side of the cabin asked the SAME question. I'm beginning to realize that, much like my mother, I get agitated to repeat myself. As I walked passed him pissed off, I said to the rest of the entire cabin, loudly and annoyed-ly that we did indeed have about an hour and half left of flight. My airline is an on time airline; in fact, we are early more often that not. If it says we are landing at, oh, I dunno, 10 am local then we really should be there at 10 am local. I know other airlines don't operate with the same standards - so stop flying them. But when we say 10 am, we'll be there. Moreover, if your buddy/boy/girl/friend is picking you up, tell them to be 10 minutes early. We usually are.

Flying First Class...

Monday morning, 11 am. I'm sitting on my couch drinking my morning coffee, having woken up about ten minutes ago. It was nice, quiet and peaceful way to start the day. And then crew scheduling called.

"Hi, flight attendant Alyssa? We have a trip for you. It checks in at 2; its an LA overnight."

Well, at least it wasn't a quick call. I had two hours to get ready and make plans upon my arrival.

So, I get to the airport, I get on the plane and then I get senior opted. (In land of pilots, its refered to as being junior man-ed.) I was supposed to work the lead position, but ended up in first class aisle. First class aisle is a good position for me because I have a fear of the galley. Being in the aisle gives me the opportunity to learn the service better, figure out what's expected and see all the different ways that the galley person operates. No two flight attendants work the galley the same, you know, like snow flakes. This trip was especially nice because we were on the 757, which is my favorite (okay fine, JNH you convinced me, it is the best even though it still totally has that smell), and I didn't have to deal with the snobby people in the back of the bus who thought they were someone important; I only had 20 snobby people to deal with as opposed to 140. There were like 16 seat dups, all these kids sitting aisles away from their parents... That's my personal favorite. People who won't move to let kids sit with their parents. I hope you enjoy entertaining them for the next 5 and a half hours.

Here at my legacy carrier (which if you haven't figured out which one yet, then you know nothing about avaition. At all.) we collected and hang up coats in first class. I am embarking on my first winter as a flight attendant, therefore my first coat fire. Instead of taking their seats and allowing me to wait on them (key word is so wait) the first class cabin was experiencing a coat fire in which they stood in line at the mid galley, coats in hand, waiting to give them to me. How am I supposed to correctly label the coat tag if I have no idea where you are seated? And when I ask you were are you seated, don't tell me up there. That's not funny. Interesting enough, we totally had another coat fire on the way back.

As for the service going out, the number of people who eat airplane fish astound me. Along with the number of flight attendants I know who have gotten food poisioning from said fish, especially in apetizer and soup form. I had the veal and veggies. Working a flight to the west coast is almost as exciting as non reving, execpt you have things to do the first hour, maybe two. Otherwise we're sitting there just like you are, minus the movies.

The return flight was definitely most interesting. The galley person and I both got no sleep and even though it was just breakfast service, it was a hot mess. Like to the point where you would have thought that we were new. I still feel new - even though I'm off probation!!! Anyway, it was a good two day and I had a great crew which is all that ever matters.

Love is a full length mirror.

I have recently be introduced to a band called Flight of the Conchords and they amuse me so. I advise all of you to youtube them, and giggle along to the sweet beats of Business Time.

Click here. Be amused.

I like Pilots... well, at least mine

As we know from the days of Fictitious, pilots and flight crews will be the first to tell you not to date a pilot. This is sound advice because pilots, like hookers, frat boys, and sugar daddies, more often than not, have more than one honey in all the land. But what I like about them is that they understand the lifestyle; and if you get a good one they trust you too. Being the private person that I am, I won't go into detail but I will say he's way hotter than I ever imagined Fictitious to be.

Nothing screams professionalism like holding hands, in uniform, in the terminal. At a hub.



Any questions, comments, or concerns, you can call me.

Deadhead like Whoa

To most people, a "deadhead" is someone who enjoys the musical stylings of the Grateful Dead. To those of us in the industry (yes, like its some sort of cult), to deadhead is when scheduling decides to relocate you. The past two trips I've been deadheaded in and out of IAH, only to spend a night in LA. Earlier this week, I got to ride in our new 757's with individual entertainment systems in the cheap seats; I got to watch Licence to Wed which is surprisingly good and not horribly chick flickish (Jesse, I know you are like, totally way jealous and yes, I did smell like 75 when I was done). Yesterday, I hopped a ride in the 777 and got to watch Harry Potter 5!!! Very exciting. Now I'm sitting in supposedly sunny LA waiting for the sun to come out so I can go sit at the pool and maintain my tan from Cancun. Stupid marine layer. Moreover, stupid friends with big kid jobs who can't come and keep me amused til tonights red eye back to the dirty Jersey. I mean, c'mon... who works more than 20 days a month? ;)