Airplane Etiquette

This one is about airplane etiquette (yup, I'm still in the air). So, my traveling companion and I boarded the flight a little more than 1/2 way into the boarding process so the plane was a little more than 1/2 full. I know. My math skills are dazzling. Anyways. We found a window and middle seat next to this big dude on the aisle. After a few minutes we realize that we we sitting amongst a large group of 40-something year old football fans on their way to see a Chargers vs. Bears game. I'm not sure how many there are but it feels and sounds like 50 of them.

Drink service comes around and the party starts. These guys are getting absolutely loaded and are louder than if we had our heads inside the jet-engine. Now, anyone who knows us well enough (especially with the shenanigans my friend and I got into this week) is probably thinking that this a blatant case of the pots calling the kettles black but there are two major differences here. 1) We are delightful and charming 2) We carry on like this in a BAR. This is an airplane for f**ksake!

Speaking of f**k, I have heard about 30 F-bombs in the past minute and a half and some of the most inappropriate talk ever. Again, my closest readers are laughing their asses off at the thought of me and my potty mouth being offended by anything, but again..location, location, location! We are on a PLANE! A jam-packed flying bus full of grannies and toddlers and people from all walks of life. Not cool! I heard one guy say to another as loud as can be "...and by the way, thanks for making me shave your prostate earlier...". I can't even begin to imagine the origin of that inside joke, nor do I want to.

The flight continues and so does the drinking. You know how the pilot says "Feel free to move about the cabin"? I am relatively certain this is not what he means. These guys are chillin' in the aisle, leaning against people's seats.

(We are now on the second leg of our journey sans football fans so I will be switching to the past tense. Hold onto your hats!)

My friend and I got up to use the restroom. We went together to avoid having to ask the big dude to get up twice. While waiting to get in the bathroom I joked to the flight attendant "So, are you out of booze yet?" She shook her head and replied "Almost" at which point she showed me the racks of tiny bottles that were two thirds empty and whispers "These were full, and you girls are sitting right in the middle of those guys.". She shook her head, again.

Upon returning to our seats, one of the football fans said "So you girls went to the bathroom together, huh?" (insert drunken inappropriate laugh here). He continued to mutter more on this topic that we fortunately couldn't hear over his rambunctious buds.

Meanwhile, the poor blonde flight attendant was bringing drinks over as fast as she could and they were harassing her like it was 1960. "Which of my buddies is the best looking? C'mon, just lean over and whisper it in my ear." I think I heard someone call her a "good-looking broad". Kidding. Sixties joke.


Fortunately, the giant sitting beside me was one of the quiet ones, although every time he turned to talk to one of his buddies, I had half of his ass in my seat. My ass is big enough, thank you very much, there is no room for yours.

Soon enough, the loudest of the bunch was leaning over talking to the gentle giant to my right. They start taking about kids and the passage of time. Real "cats-in-the cradle" stuff. I guess this is the point in the drinking binge when guys get all mellow and deep and starting saying "I love you, man!"

Returning to the football talk, the conversation was heating up and they started singing the Chargers rally song (or whatever you call that. Can you tell I'm not a football fan?). I'm prayed they didn't distract the pilot.

While descending into Chicago, we ran into some wicked turbulence. The flight was bumping all over the place and they were cheering like it was fourth down and one yard to go (again, I'm clueless here. I just leaned over to ask my friend)

We landed safely. The pilot jokingly asked if the Chargers fans would wait on the plane until the preferred Bears fans has safely de-boarded. They booed and yelled things like "F**k you!" and "That's why you are just a pilot.". I'm not really sure how the latter one was supposed to be an insult. Pilots are pretty awesome because, like, they fly planes and stuff. Did he mean "just a pilot" as opposed to a drunk, obnoxious Chargers fan?

As they readied to get off the plane we hung back so we would't be in the midst of their group. One of them offered to let me go ahead. I said, "No, you go catch up with your friends.". One of the other guys said "She doesn't want any of us anywhere in front of her or behind her.". He was awfully perceptive for an drunken idiot.

In their defense, the guys did yell thanks to everyone for putting up with them. They were mostly harmless - unless you were the blonde flight attendant, someone trying to sleep or the nearby toddler who was able to say 10 more words than he could before the flight started, all of them bad.

It really is astonishing how obnoxious drunk people can be. When you aren't one of them, that is. I'll try to remember that when the tables are turned, but I'll forget because I'll be drunk.

Cheers.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Guilt-Free Mommy Time

I don't travel for work often but I am returning from a conference today. As a matter of fact, I'm on the plane right now drafting this Pages on my iPad and wishing to Heaven I'd brought my bluetooth keyboard case. This will require much editing, otherwise, between my manicured nails, the iPad keyboard and autocorrect neither you or I will have any idea what i was intending to write.

Anyway, I typically travel for work about once or twice a year. My babies are 5 and 6 1/2 and it is hard to leave home. This time I was gone for a full week. Technically, 6 days but by the time I get home tonight, they will be sound asleep. I miss them terribly. I miss my husband. I miss my house. FaceTime has been a tremendous help.

Now that i have made it clear that I miss my family and you all think that I'm a nice person, I will let you in on a little secret (that won't be a secret after I hit "publish"). I had a blast and don't feel guilty at all! I know! A mom NOT feeling guilty about doing something for herself for a change? That's a travesty! What is this world coming to? What can I say? I'm a rebel.

But I don't feel guilty. The conference was well put together and intellectually stimulating. During the day, we discussed how to work with college kids and at night we went out and acted like them. I ate delicious food at restaurants that didn't have paper placemats and crayons on the table. I got to bond with one of my bestest girlfriends/coworkers and I'm so glad she came. As we are geeks, our industry tends to be a bit of a boy's club and it was essential to have her with me. I had loads of fun with a few new and a few old conference friends, though likely a bit too much fun as I'm feeling the achingly memorable twinge of a hangover as I write this.

But the very best and most selfish part of the whole week is that I only had to worry about me! I only had to think about what I was going to eat and wear and do. I didn't have to check anyone's book bags for teacher notes. I didn't have to take anything out for dinner. I was never interrupted in the shower to be asked if the 5-second rule applied to granola bars. I didn't have to stop to buy milk or mini-marshmallows to send to school for a class party.

Granted, the week leading up to the trip, my brain was in overdrive trying to take care of anything and everything that might be needed at home in my absence but I it was worth it not to have to think or worry this week. I also have my husband to thank for executing everything at home and my kids to thank for being "extra good" for daddy.

So, the moral of this is story is simply to remind all the other working moms out there not to ever feel guilty when it's mommy time. It's is necessary for our sanity or we are likely to snap and start spreading hand lotion on the sandwiches instead of peanut butter.

I know I've blogged about this before but it bears repeating. You are't just a mom, you are a beautiful, dynamic woman with your own personality and interests. It's important not to lose who you are in motherhood. Or, at least if you do, leave a trail of Reese's pieces so you can find your way back. I was lost for about 2 1/2 years after becoming a mom but I am glad I found myself again because I kinda dig me. I am fairly awesome after all.

Alas, the mommy vacation has to end and just in time because I miss the hell out of those little faces! I'm done with my little fantasy where I am the queen and am in charge of what session to go participate in, where I go out to eat or whether I'm going to spend the night partying or in my cozy hotel bed. I'm relaxed, rejuvenated and ready to go home and clean up legos and bake cupcakes for school. Game on!

Why Steve Meant So Much To Me

I figure I would just join the endless list of RIP Steve Job posts.   Read it if you like.  Don't read it if you feel like you've heard it all already.  I don't care.  This isn't about you.

I am not just an Apple Fan-Girl (although I totally am!).   I wasn't even an Apple Girl until '07 but when I drank the apple-flavored Kool-Aid I drank long and I drank deep.  I became enamored with every Apple product I got my greedy little fingers on.   It was shortly after I became deeply engrossed in the beauty of the usability that I wanted to learn about the genius behind it.

Shrine of Apple products accumulating at my workplace

The more I learned about Mr. Jobs the more impressed I became.  I am a designer by career and visual person by nature.  I've always been enthralled with all things shiny and beautiful.  In addition, I have a real passion for usability and an outright disdain for poorly designed products and software.   Steve Jobs had an unprecedented vision and commitment to the end-user.   Take away the billions of dollars, the "up-by-his-bootstraps" backstory, charitable works and dozens of other things that made the man great and that is what impresses me the most.   In the face of opposition, he has always kept his final goal as crystal clear as an iMac display - "EASE OF USE".

I've heard many people doubt his goals.  Most geeks I know (that's not a slur - these are my people I'm talking about) feel that he's been too rigid with the iDevice designs by not adding ports or integrating flash or allowing file navigation.   I've always said "with flexibility comes complexity" and that was not part of his plan.   In Steve I trusted.

He's given us the very best end user experience in the design of the Mac OS.  It is just brilliant in it's simplicity.   To name just a humble few (feel free to comment your OS faves):

• Built-In Screen Capture (Windows STILL doesn't have this right)
• Spotlight
• Preview
• Cover Flow
• The best mail search EVER in Apple Mail
• Print to PDF

He's changed the way we think about...well...almost everything with the innovations in iOS.   We can now carry our lives in our pockets or purses with the easiest to use mobile devices on the planet.   He's made the world smaller by making it easy for EVERYONE to connect with these devices.  It's not a special club for the tech elite.  It's for everyone.

Steve, for the hundreds of ways you has made my life, my job and my computing experience, easier and more enjoyable, I will be forever grateful.

I am sure that you have left brilliance in your wake because, if you have inspired millions who didn't know you the way you have, those closest to you must be bursting at the seems with innovation.   Carry on.  Do him proud.  The world is waiting.

The New Facebook Timeline is Coming - DON'T FREAK OUT!

Yesterday Facebook announced a plethora of revolutionary changes at it's f8 developer conference.  Among those change is the ground-breaking, Timeline profile.  

I was able to already activate timeline because, I once developed a stupid quiz using Facebook's quiz API so I am technically a developer.  You can pretend to be a developer and get it now too.

I think Timeline is pretty awesome.  Basically, Facebook is building upon what its users already do, which is to post life events, by making it easier to do so and a cinch to look back upon.   Facebook is also using what it already knows about you to build this timeline.  As I said, I think it's awesome but most users are going to freak the f**k out!

I don't really understand why someone would freak out.  It should come as no surprise to that Facebook has this information.   Of course it does, the user put it there.   Nevertheless, I think people are often surprised by the consequences of their own actions.

Once again, I remind you, as a fellow user, NOT TO FREAK OUT!  It's not a big deal.  This is your stuff, that you put there.  It's only shared with the people you shared it with originally.  Plus, you can go to your privacy settings and globally change the privacy settings for all of your past posts.

Timeline Privacy Setting

You can also go in and change who you have shared individual posts with.  Finally, there is always the ability to "VIEW AS" which allows you to see how others or the public view your timeline.  So if you don't trust what FB is showing the world, you can always double-check.

Facebook's "View As" Feature

Personally, I am jazzed that I can scroll back and see what I was doing years ago.  I can quickly see pics of my babies or antidotes that I posted about them.   I think it did a pretty good job of initially picking out things that belong on the timeline and it can only get better.

A Snapshot of My Timeline

In conclusion, change is good.   Facebook isn't stealing your thoughts.  The internet is not evil.  Sharing is okay.  You are in control of your information (for the most part).   Take a deep breath --- and dive in.

Thank You, Irene!

I, by no means, want to minimize the damage and loss that some have incurred from this storm.  I, however, live in an area that was never really on the "path of destruction" outlined by NOAA.  We are on the inland edge of the "cone of potential mayhem" but that didn't stop everyone from running around in a panic.   There are some power outages and some flooding that I know of but the storm is nearly passed and we are, mostly, none the worse for wear.

I would like to take a moment to thank Hurricane Irene.

Irene,
Because of the threat of you, we were all forced to stay home.   Because of this, I cleaned my house.  I washed the floors.  I cleaned a sh*t-ton of old toys out of my kid's room.  My husband and I cleaned out the front hall closet and threw out a bunch of crap.  My husband found "The Dangerous Book For Boys" that I gave him shortly after our son was born.  Our kids handprints are inside from when they were 18 months and 3 1/2 years old.


Because the world was closed and the roads were unsafe, I took a long hot shower.  I gave myself a facial and a salt scrub.  I still plan to work in a pedicure.


I played with my kids.  We all played a "Zack and Wiki" on the Wii and I got past a board I've been putting off for a bit over a year now.  My husband cooked a bunch of food to put in the freezer for me because he's going to be out of town soon and he's awesome like that.  The kids helped him cook.


I blogged.


Irene, thank you for the gift of time.  There's nothing like the potential for a natural disaster to make you stay home with the ones you love - or evacuate with them, depending on where you live.


I know many people aren't going to say thank you, but I am.   Now, that doesn't mean I want you, or any of your cousins to come visiting again any time soon, but I can appreciate the good in all the mess.


Sincerely,
JT


P.S.
I'd also like to thank who-or-whatever gave me the patience not to kill my damn kids today because no matter what they did they were bored and drove me freakin' batty - thus the glass of wine at my right hand.

Mortality

"Mortality".  Wow.  Funny title, right?  Not really.  I'm going to try to make light of a semi-serious subject but I'm feeling somber and am moderately inebriated so this post may end up in the trash.

I am having surgery next week. It's not elective or anything.  If it was, at least I'd have a flat tummy or perky boobs to look forward to.  It is totally minor and not a big deal but I'm still kind of freaking out.  It's weird for me because I'm a "tough cookie", as they say.  Who the hell came up with that anyway?   I've never had a tough cookie in my life. Stale, maybe, but tough, never.

As I was saying, it's weird for me to feel scared about this. It is so NOT a big deal. Many people have been through so much worse that it is not even funny. But, the thing is, I've never been in the hospital to do more than have my kids and going in for that is wonderful, despite the bloodbath and agony, that is. When you are going in for that, you have many things to look forward too, such as 1.) not being pregnant any more  2.) cute little pink babies  3.)  not being a ginormous bloated whale anymore, etc. It's like going in for new boobs.  There's a light at the end of the tunnel.

I guess there's a light this time too. I get to not have something wrong with me anymore.  Yippee!  Some how it is not as much of a motivator as perky boobs or pink babies but it's something and, regardless, it's necessary.

I've never been under anestesia before. I hear good things and, frankly, I could use the rest.  However, there's that little nagging voice in the back of my stupid head saying "you know some people die, right?"  Shut up! Logically, I know that the statistics are teeny tiny and that most of those people have other health issues causing complications but, still, the voice remains. I don't think I'd care so much about not waking up if I didn't have two little people who are expecting me to come home from the hospital. When I think about that,  I realize that moms are a twisted breed. Do we really think so little of ourselves that our only reason for living is those little snot factories that can't put their underwear on properly without our assistance? Yes. Yes we do.

The other thing bugging me is that my ability to carry a child will be affected. That shouldn't bother me. I'm done having babies. My husband is very much in agreement that we are done having babies.  When I told him my concerns, he immediately asked if I planned to remarry. I told him I wanted to keep my options open.  That didn't go over too well. Of course, I'm kidding but I always thought that my ability to have kids would go the natural way of things.  Again, I am well aware that I am dually blessed with two beautiful children and that there are so many people that aren't as lucky as I am but there's that nagging voice again.  I hate that voice.  That voice is really annoying.

My point, if I even have one, is that this little stupid surgery has caused me to confront my own mortality and it sucks.  I much prefer living in la la land where everything is good and I think I'm going to live forever.  I still plan to live forever.  I am going to silence that stupid little voice or die trying.  Ha!   But, if by some million to one chance, I don't wake up from the anestesia, please take pity on my husband and offer to babysit or something.  He'll need all the help he can get.

I'm sure, in a week, I'll be wondering what I was worried about.  I'm sure the anestesia will nothing more than a really good nap and I'll be feeling right as rain in no time.  Hey, maybe I'll check back in for new boobs one of these days after all.

Spa Fail

On a lovely spring day, four ladies set out for a Spa Day at the beautiful Mohonk Mountain House in the Shawgunk Mountains of New Paltz, NY. All checked in to the spa, they decided to explore. They didn't think to take their phones, they didn’t pack water, they kept on their flip-flops and set out with no plan and tissues, lip gloss and a thermos of Mimosas in their arsenal. They intended to take a quick walk around the grounds. They were wrong.

Yes.  I was one of these four knuckleheads and lived to tell the tale.  Our intended stroll turned into three hours of wandering somewhat aimlessly through the greater Mohonk preserve without the first clue of how to get back where we started from.  There was panic.  There was hunger.  There was thirst.  There was talk of who would get eaten first if it came down to it.  It wasn't pretty.

Once we found our way back from the brink of death, we picked up a map. Of course now we are aware that a map would've been useful BEFORE getting lost in the woods for three hours but clearly that thought never crossed our pretty little minds as we stepped out into the world.  What do you want?  We are cute. Do we have to be smart too?!  Geez.  You want everything!

Anyway, having examined the map, I was able to suss out exactly where we went wrong (over and over again) and I made a poster out of it to commemorate this horrific event with some of my dearest friends.

You can click this image for the full map but I'm going to break it down for you right here in the blog.  By the way, you are welcome, in advance, for how smart you are going to feel after you read this.

First is our intended path.  This is what we set out to do.

But that is not what we did.  No.  As it turns out, we set out on the wrong path almost from the get go.  Unaware that we were already on "leg 1" of the walk of fail, we stopped to toast our awesome girl's day out with the mimosas I was toting along.  Also, blissfully unaware that it is against the rules to have alcohol on the hiking trails.  That's another tidbit I learned from the map I picked up afterward.

After walking a bit further, my friend Tami thought we should turn around.   We all still thought we were on a path that would loop back toward the main house.  We ventured on.

We had set out on our walk at 11:00.  It was probably about 11:45 when Nancy's stomach growling began startling small forrest creatures.  She tried to bribe Tami for the cheese she had packed but, sadly, Tami left it in her spa locker along with anything else that might have been useful.

We were starting to feel lost when we came upon a map of sorts at Rhododendron Bridge.  It didn't say anything about the Mountain House but it mentioned a Trapps Visitor's Center.   We had never heard of it but figured a visitor's center meant people who could potentially help us.  My friend Jean thought that would take us away from where we needed to go.

This is the actual sign at Rhododendron Bridge.

Now on "leg 2" of the walk of fail, I tried to break the mounting tension as I offered to allow everyone to eat me if I died first.  The didn't object much at all.

Before my friends could take me up on my generous offer, a jogger appeared wearing a Mohonk Preserve tag.  She shook her head at us guessing that we came from the mountain house and were way lost based solely on our lack of appropriate foot wear or gear of any type.  Who does she think she is?!?! Nancy thought the jogger "saved us".  Looking at the map, I think she might have said "Hey, why don't you walk another 400 yards to the Visitor's center and see if someone can give you a ride back?" Or even "Come with me, I will help you!"  Not exactly the heroine of the day in my opinion.

Following the joggers instructions, we headed wearily back to Rhododendron Bridge which I have dubbed "leg 3" of our walk of fail.  We reached the bridge and headed in the direction she indicated.  Her vague instructions said that the road would be "uphill" so when we came to yet another fork, we took the uphill fork.  Wrong again.

On "leg 4" of the walk of fail, which is by far my LEAST favorite part of this journey, we were on some unnamed service road in the blazing heat.  It was at this point that we began yelling for any nearby help. Tami employed her super loud whistling skills and got a bird to respond but nobody else.   Nancy declared that we were turning back!

Little did we know that we weren't far from a more direct path back to the mountain house but with the decisions we'd been making so far, we probably wouldn't have taken that turn anyway.

Finally, there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  We could actually SEE the resort!  We had been avoiding drinking any more mimosas for fear of dehydration.  We were so relieved we took a much deserved break to quench our thirst.  It tasted like heaven.

We finally reached the dining room for our complimentary spa lunch at just about 2:00.   We burst in like the desperate lunatics we are begging for water and a phone so we could postpone our spa appointments to 3:30.

At last!  With our thirsts were quenched, our appointments were moved and our food on the way we were able to laugh about our excursion... well, a little bit anyway.    We realized that nobody would really feel bad for four dummies who set out unprepared and didn't even miss a meal.

It is true. We are dumb - dumb -dumb but would it kill someone to put an arrow on the bridge sign saying “HEY LOST KNUCKLEHEADS - MOHONK MOUNTAIN HOUSE IS BACK THAT WAY!” and signs on the trails saying “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING MOHONK RESORT PROPERTY AND ENTERING THE MOHONK PRESERVE WHICH IS VERY LARGE AND YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO DO IF YOU ARE WEARING FLIP-FLOPS AND ONLY EQUIPPED WITH LIP GLOSS, TISSUES AND MIMOSAS!”

Sidebar:
More useful things we found on the map when we got back.