Unfortunate Flying Gold Diggers

I’m sitting I my hotel room right now. Here is how my morning and my flight last night have unfolded….

Normally, when preparing for my shower in a hotel room, I stand outside the tub and find the appropriate water temperature with the faucet on and then pull the little tab thingie to start the water flow to the shower head. Today, I was in the tub doing this for some unknown reason. Apparently the last guest liked to feel like they are ground patrol in Baghdad because the shower was in its water bullet setting. Christ, the water pressure was so strong I think it blew out all the product in my hair in one fell swoop.

I made my way downstairs to enjoy the breakfast buffet only find out I was too late. Instead I had an omelet made with egg white filled with low fat cheese, Canadian back bacon and peppers. Staying in the zone you know… I sat at a table overlooking the Victoria harbour with a beautiful view of the BC parliament buildings. Stunning. I'm going to take soem pictures and post them later I think.

Reading the Globe, I saw that my boss Mr. Milton is thought to be spearheading an international fight against the Pearson airport fees. Ok, sure, he can spread his seeds of love around the world (me for instance) however I don’t think that he has THAT much clout. I broke out into hysterics when I read about our PM’s comment on the 1995 referendum and the use of solders to protect federal buildings in Quebec. “the soldiers thing is bullshit” he said. Politics..I could care less about it but those words coming from the figurehead of our country. All I can say is fantastic. He’s human. He swears.

The fight to Victoria last night was not disappointing.

My saying for the evening was “that’s unfortunate”


To the passenger bitching about having the middle seat – that’s unfortunate

To the passenger bitching about their full flight from Frankfurt and wanted an upgrade to business because she had to sit beside some immigrant nervous about their new life in Canada and was puking the whole way..missing the bag most of the time – that’s unfortunate

To the passenger complaining that they were not sitting together – that’s unfortunate

To the passengers whining about the dead worm in their rice - that's unfortunate

To the ex-Canadian FA who showed me her scar from our Charlie’s Angel’s training (in-flight self defense / terrorist attack) brought on by an overzealous attacker impersonation – that’s unfortunate - now give me back my flying and get to the bottom of the senority list - I want my international flying back cuz this domestic crap is making me sick

I’m doing my Charlie’s Angels training next Thursday. Now I’ll learn how to say BACK OFF..GET YOUR OWN SANDWICH and learn how to take them down in the aisle, begging for forgiveness for having the nerve to ask for the full can of coke.

During boarding this 6’, thin built, tanned blond haired blue eyed hunk of burning luv gets on and sits in the aisle seat 1 row in front of my jumpseat. I’ll call him the gold digger (GD)

During the take off roll, thinking that this may be a promising flight, I assumed my take off position. Not the one dictated by the Ministry of Transportation, but one that had a better view of GD. I had to lean forward, pretending to look out the window. Was I ever sorry for straining my back because all I got was a view of the gold nugget he had just pulled out of his nose. He was rolling it in his fingers and then wiped it on the seat. Fucking SICK. How come the Flight Attendants don’t have a barf bag at our seats? I need one at this point. Oh the glamour of it all.

I’m now going to work a bit, then go to the gym here in Victora for a work out, then off to Starbucks to think about my relationship. I really need to get my head around what I want. Do I want to be single or do I want to keep kicking the cat back at home with my partner. All I can say is that I’m sick of compromise. I feel that my entire relationship has been about compromise..me compromising how I act & feel so that I will fit into this mould of the perfect spacewaitress husband. I need a parachute.