Overnight

As a reserve flight attendant, the world is a constant surprise. From one day to the next it's hard to figure out if you're coming or going, what day of the week it is or how long you're going to be gone. I've left on what I thought would be a five day journey only to b taken off after three. I've gone on a two day trip only to discover half way through it was being changed to four. But probably the biggest surprise I had was when I thought I was flying up to San Francisco and back to LA one day, and I was anticipating having the rest of the day off when I got back and even made dinner plans. I brought my required items with me and left my suitcase at home.

When I landed in San Francisco and switched on my phone, I discovered I had a voicemail from the good people of scheduling. I knew this couldn't be good.

I'm sure by now you guessed it. I was going to need that suitcase I so carelessly left in my apartment, unpacked and disheveled. Not only did I need it, but I wouldn't be home for four days.

I had about an hour and forty five minutes before I was to return to LA, so on my way to get food I began frantically calling people I knew that I could trust. My first call was to my roommate, who didn't answer. My second was to my old boss, who was busy at an event. My third call was to my best friend, Jason - who always answers and didn't. Next I sent a text to Jason's boss, who was a close friend of mine for a while. She responded by telling me Jason was busy and wouldn't have time to help me. I was striking out left an right. Finally I called the guy I had just started dating. That was just another added to the "didn't answer" list. What was going on?!

I sat to eat my lunch at the gate as my crew and I waited for our next plane to arrive. I started thumbing through my extensive phone list for someone - anyone - who could help me out. At about the "W" section, my phone rang. It was the guy I had been dating, Mike.

"Hey!" I answered, overjoyed. "Are you at work or at home? I need a huge favor and I'm having a personal emergency."

"I'm at home. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, but I left my suitcase at home and they've changed my schedule. I won't be home for four days! I'm flying back into LA and will be there in about two hours, but I won't have enough time to go get my suitcase! I need help!"

"Well," he responded with a dry air, "I was looking through your Facebook and I'm confused. You said you didn't date this one guy a year ago but I just saw a picture where it looks like you did, and honestly I'm not even talking to you right now."

Dumbfounded at the words that just came out of his mouth, I sat there in stunned silence a moment. Then my red headed nature kicked in and I had a few words of my own to say.

"Look, the past is the past. You don't own me, I don't own you, and I have never lied to you about anyone I was dating before I met you two weeks ago. We can talk about this all you want to when I get back, but right now I need some serious help, and if you're not willing to help me I need to know so I can go solve my crisis. I can only handle one issue at a time," I said. I desperately wanted to add "and you've got more issues than I can handle" to the end of that sentence, but didn't. I tried to keep calm. I had my priorities. Starting a fight over the phone wasn't one of them.

"Well, I really can't," he started. "I don't think I want to go - " I cut him off by hanging up the phone and continuing my contacts search.

My phone rang again. It was my former boss! Surely he would be able to help me!

"Hey! I there anyone around who could run an errand for me?" I started off by going straight to the point.

"I don't know. What's wrong? What do you need?"

I explained the situation so quickly that he had to ask me to slow down and repeat myself. I did.

"We are setting up for an event right now but I will see what I can do. What do you need them to do?"

"I need them to go find the hide-a-key under the brick on the back side of the fence, go into the house, find my bedroom, grab my suitcase and bring it to the airport. But I need some stuff out in it first."

"Ok," he said. "I'm writing it down. What do you need in it?"

"A pair of jeans, all of my makeup from the table top, two pairs of socks, the shirt that's hanging on the back of the chair, another shirt from the closet - I don't care which one, and three pairs of underwear from the top drawer of my dresser."

Looking back, I'm sure the list was even longer than that, but you get the gist of it all. There was a lot of stuff I didn't have in the bag that I would be needing.

"Ok," my boss responded later in a text message. "I found someone to go get your stuff. Where do you need it dropped off?"

"At the United terminal at 5:00pm sharp, early if possible."

My flight was on time and I was praying that my bag would be too, whomever was bringing it. My boss was always my friend, even before I ever worked for him. He really proved it that time. I owed him in a big way.

When I arrived at LAX, I ran from the Delta to the United terminal, hoping like crazy my bag and its carrier would be there. My phone buzzed with another text message from my old boss. "Chris is almost there," it said.

Chris. Why did it have to be Chris?

Chris was 6'5" and had some of the broadest shoulders I had ever seen. He was a big, burly guy and often used as a heavy lifter at special events. He was loud and bold and we all loved him dearly - but he was the last person in the world I wanted to have digging through my underwear drawer. I instantly blushed at the thought. He had already gone through it!!!

I saw him from a distance. He had a beanie cap on his bald head and his long, ZZ Top beard was died green. His black jean shorts had holes in them and his faded black shirt had the breast pocket torn half way off and dangling. His shoes were untied and beat up. Behind him he lugged my small, black roller bag. He was the best looking thing I'd seen all day long.

In a flash I forgot about this gentle giant having been digging through my underwear drawer and ran to greet him with a huge hug. People on the sidewalk were staring as I ran up to the disheveled man with pure excitement in my face. I threw my arms around his neck and cheered with delight. I thanked him profusely and I may have even kissed him on the cheek once or twice.

When I let go and looked at him to thank him, he blushed a dark red that faded to a plum purple quickly enough. We walked a minute or two as I asked him if he happened to notice the level of the cats food. He had even fed the cats for me. We both blushed again and I was on my way.

That night in my hotel room, I had this horrible dream of the bald behemoth with a pair of my black thong undies on his head.

Hip Check

From time to time I tend to have minor issues with my joints and bones. It's something we all must face as we get older, but I've had issues with my hip bones since I was about 15 years old. A chiropractor once told me that I should be in pain when I walk, and the fact that I'm not is a real medical mystery. I have what he called an "inverted pelvis" where all the bones in my hips twisted inward and forward before I was born, in the early development stages. All I know is that my hip makes a "click" sound with every step as it tries to slide back into place. Ouch. But it sounds more painful than it feels, I promise.

Years ago I had an issue with my hips pinching a nerve while I was pregnant. For no obvious reason, my sciatic nerve would suddenly get pinched and I would fall in a crumbled heap straight into the floor wherever I was. That was years ago now thankfully - about 13 years now. But, like I said, once in a while it likes to act up.

One day I was heading to the back of the airplane in order to check on a passenger who had hit their call button. On my to the back, you guessed it, my hip pinched that nerve. I fell in a heap on the airplane floor, sprawled out like someone had thrown me through a window at a Wild West saloon.

My shoes went flying in odd directions and passengers gasped in horror. They looked for something that could have tripped me, but there was nothing around. Three big guys stood and grabbed me, helping me to my feet. Unfortunately that nerve was still pinched and I had to grab on to one just to stay upright. Without noticing, my arm went straight around his neck and it brought us face to face rather quickly. The woman who had been sitting with him slapped him on the leg and he let go, which left me once more where he had found me - in a pile on the floor.

I stood up, brushed myself off, searched for something to blame it all on and came up empty. Finally I just said to all of them "I'm just going to limp off now with what little dignity I have left." I paused and looked over my shoulder. "And Ma'am, I'm so sorry about all that."

The woman who had slapped the man holding me grinned. "Don't be. It's not your fault. But if I hadn't stopped him, he would have kissed you! He's not my husband, he's my brother!"

Last in Dallas

I can't help it.

It comes to no surprise to many when I describe myself as a happy, upbeat person. It shows all over my face all the time. But I can't help it as I sit here in Dallas, thinking about the last time I was here - it's not such a happy memory. Most of my thoughts are pleasant, but this one lingers with a sad and mournful taste, like black licorice on a rainy day.

I had gotten the call to go to work and was having a great morning. I had plenty of time to prepare and pack, knowing I would have an easy three day trip that paid well. The first night would be one flight from Los Angeles to Dallas, with a nice long layover. I planned to use the workout room, go swimming, explore a little... This trip was going to be fun.

I got on the plane and met the crew. The other Flight Attendant was a really sweet lady I liked right away. She and I shared a few laughs, relaxed, chatted with customers and just had fun the entire way. The captain and first officer were both nice guys too! I just knew I would have fun the whole three days.

We landed in Dallas and chatted the entire way out to the shuttle bus. I had forgotten my phone was in my large bag until it was already tucked into the back of the shuttle and we were on our way so I didn't check my messages or even turn my phone on. I didn't get a chance to.

We got to the hotel, checked in, and headed for our rooms. I figured at that point what I didn't know was going on in the world could wait until I got to my room at that point.

I got to the room, took my scarf off of my neck and switched on the power to my phone. As it booted up I kicked off my shoes and started to run a hot bath. I picked up the phone to check emails and messages, and when I bumped the Facebook application on my iPhone screen, I stared in shock at the first thing I saw.

In a moment of panic, I screamed. I'm not a screamer, but I screamed. It was a high, shrill sound that surprised even me. I fell to my knees, clutching my phone with both hands, crying out "No, no, no, no!!!" It seemed to be the only thing I could say for several minutes. The phrase was repeated over and over, with me not even realizing it was coming out of my mouth.

The man who had been my best friend almost my entire life, the one person in the world who knew just about everything about me and loved me anyway, the man i loved and adored beyond any other in a way that surpasses definition, my lifelong companion and kindred spirit - was dead. After six long, hard, brutal years, the brain tumor won. Bryon and I would never be able to do those things we had talked about doing.

But the Internet is notorious for false information and fake celebrity deaths, I thought. He had to be fine. He had to be. I closed Facebook and opened my text messages. There was a recent one from him. He had simply said he missed me. I never responded - but I missed him too. I pleaded with him in my next few painful words.


"Please tell me Facebook is wrong. Please. You have to be ok. Yes, I'll marry you. Just be ok."


I picked myself up off the floor with fresh hope. Surely Facebook was wrong. I switched back to Facebook while I waited for Bryon to respond. I started reading what others had written regarding my Bryon. Slowly, slowly, it began to sink in. I wouldn't be getting a response from Bryon. There would be no more responses from him.

Somewhere around 4am, severely sleep deprived and swollen faced from crying nonstop all night, I called the good people of Scheduling. In broken sobs, I explained to the young man what was going on. I couldn't even get it out all the way when he already had me booked on a 6am flight home.

My heart was broken to pieces in Dallas, shattered beyond repair. A part of me died that day. A part of me is missing. I think about Bryon every single day and carry his photo everywhere I go - but his presence is missed just that much more every time I'm in Dallas. I just can't help it. I lost a precious and irreplaceable love when I was last in Dallas.

Chocolates

One of the many perks of being a flight attendant are the occasional chocolates bestowed upon me by the random traveling crew member or frequent flier. One day I was given such a gift of Sees candies, a nice little assortment of lovely chocolates to share with the crew. 

We had just finished lunch, and several shared laughs (this was the same crew as the Table Sitting story) when I was work into open the box of chocolates so we could all have one. Lyle and Erick both had a great sense of humor and we were truly getting along like we had known one another for ages. 

I struggled for several minutes to get the box open when finally I decided to use my key ring attached to my wallet. It wasn't exactly sharp, but it did have a pointed corner. It was a plastic airplane tail piece that looked like it had come off of a model plane. It was brandished with our company logo and I carried it everywhere out of pride. 

I picked up the tail piece and jammed it at the tape, which finally broke. As I was unwrapping the box I realized both Erick and Lyle had been watching my fight. 

"I guess that piece of tail was good for something," I said without a thought. 

Suddenly Lyle burst into a fit of laughter that left him with tears in his eyes and his hands wrapped around his stomach! 

"A piece of tail is usually good for something! I'm just glad you said it instead of me!"

Table Setting

One afternoon my new flight crew and I were eating a quick lunch in the Sacramento airport when I noticed a young man with a small group at a nearby table. He was sitting squarely on the table, and I remarked that apparently there weren't quite enough chairs in the food court area for this young man. I recited a poem my mother once told to me to the pilot and first officer, who got quite a kick out of it.

"Tables were made for cups and glasses,
Not for our children's cute little asses."

Captain Lyle Smith and First Officer Erick Zurita laughed so hard they both had to stop eating for several minutes. I laughed with them, but not as hard. I didn't think it was all that funny, but then again I had heard that poem quite a lot through life.

The young man later boarded our flight and we took him to his next destination before my crew and I returned to Sacramento again. Again the crew and I stopped to eat lunch, and even managed to sit at the same table with the umbrella, because as the Captain put it "it gives more of a picnic feel" to our lunch.

As we sat there eating, First Officer Zurita looked at me with a smirk. With a pleasant smile and accompanying Mexico City accent, he asked me "Did you happen to notice the guy who was sitting on the table earlier was on our flight?"

"Yeah," I responded, smiling at the memory of the two men laughing so hard at that crazy poem.

"Did you ask him nicely to not sit on his airplane tray table when he got on the plane?"

I thought Lyle and I would both pass out laughing so hard.

Love for Granted

There is something in particular in this world so precious and yet so much taken for granted... LOVE. 

We are brought into the world by parents who love us. We are raised up and taught to be the people we are by those who love us. We, in return, love them. And whether your parents are in your life or not, the way that you love is a reflection of them, both good and bad. 

My parents aren't in my life anymore, as many of you know. But they taught me something I will take with me always. LOVE is not to be taken lightly. It's not here today and gone tomorrow. It's not a passing fancy. It's not just a word, just a thought, just a thing. It's a deep emotional connection with someone in your life - and it's something I don't thinks parents ever really had for me. 

But it's a feeling I know all too well, though there are so few in this wide world I can say I love. 

I long for that day someone can say it to me and mean it.  

Everyone I know is loved. Loved by family, by friends, by husbands and wives and girlfriends and boyfriends. All I've ever wanted was to be loved. It's the one thing I've never found without a price I can't afford to pay. 

Love is Ironic

Love is a funny word. Not a "ha ha" kind of funny, but the "flip-flop stomach and sweaty palms" kind of funny. It's funny in the way that even after someone had departed this world for the next, a sudden thought of the, can make us laugh out loud while sitting alone in an airplane. It's funny in the way that even though separated by a great number of miles and distance and time, that love is still so real and so alive that you can feel it almost with your hands and with the every beat of your heart. 

Love is ironic. It's not ironic in a way that it makes no sense such as government intelligence, but in the way it can make us cry and smile at the same time. It's ironic in the way that we so often don't realize what we have until its been taken away from us. 

Love is all powerful. 

Love is beautiful. 

Love is painful. 

Love is amazing. 

Love is wonderful. 

Love is uncertain. 

And love is ironic. 

Love can both lift us up and bring us down. 

Love ..... is love. 

R.I.P. Bryon Otto Pastian