Glamorous Waitress.

I called myself this last night. A glamorous waitress in the air. Looking back, I think I meant glorified. However, I am going to stick with glamorous. My confidence is at an all time high with this job, hence my thinking of a great adjective. Whatever the reason for this word appearing in my vocabulary, I like it.

On another job sidenote: my dress and cardigan arrived last week! I almost dreaded trying the dress on because I figured I'd have to get it tailored before I could wear it (I have said that tailoring is my new thing, right?) But low and behold, I did not! I got to wear it the next day for work. Okay, not to say it does need a LITTLE tailoring. But nothing that is major enough for me not to wear the dress every single day. And the cardigan. SO WARM. Which being made out of wool I would expect nothing less. On the little plane I freeze. On the big plane I roast. Let me rephrase that, on the big plane when I have to work the main cabin (and not first class) I roast. If I'm up front (by the doors which, I swear leak cold air) I freeze. So this cardigan is by all means very much appreciated. I also adorn my uniform with my black pashmina scarf as a neccesary accesory. I love my scarves.

I do have to say I love the winter look with my uniform. Sweltering summer in a plane is not so appealing right now. Peanuts, pretzels, cookies, or your flight attendant dripping in sweat? Yeah, like I said, not appealing. However, I don't know how summer will go. I can't wait to find out. And at the rate time seems to be passing, it won't be long.


glamorous/ˈglæmərəs/[glam-er-uhs]. adjective. 1. full of glamour; charmingly or fascinatingly attractive, especially in a mysterious or magical way. 01 02 18

High Speeds.

In an hour I will leave home for the airport. My flight leaves at 9:50pm tonight to Des Moines. These late night flights are called High Speeds or CDO lines (I have no idea what CDO stands for) and quite frankly, I think I may like them.

I haven't done a HS yet in my four months of flying and I'm excited. I've had ALL day to myself. Slept in, got my laundry finished, worked out (yes, Jillian is still my trainer), paid some bills, filed my taxes (yes, I have filed my own taxes every year), read a magazine, and even baked a clementine-blueberry loaf I've been meaning to make for a couple weeks. And now I'm just about to get all packed out and head to the airport.

Now, if I held this CDO line I would be doing this four days in a row. However, I'd have ALL day to do stuff. And I would know that I could not be called! Now that's exciting for me. Plus, not having to pack food for a four day trip feels quite nice. And, since I'm living at home staying at a hotel each night doesn't bother me. In fact, a king size bed is quite appealing over my basement home at the moment. So, I might just bid for this line in the future. It's too late for this schedule to happen in March, but perhaps April.

And yes. I said April. Meaning, I plan on keeping this job through then, and much longer. FEELS GREAT. To finally have a job I'm getting into. And I learn more and more about the schedule, the pay, the hours, each day. OH, and I just ordered the dress and cardigan today for work. When that arrives, I'll jump with joy. 01 02 18

Life Processing.

Every day brings new thoughts and new ideas to my mind. I call it life processing. I have learned to do this way too frequently. Whether it be where I want to live, what I want to do, what animal friend I want to adopt first, or what car to get when my Dodge finally bites the dust. My mind seems to be on repeat for some situations (the job) and on hold for others (the living situation). I am always processing. From one day disliking flying due to the schedule to thinking a manager position at CC sounds quite appealing to enjoying flying the next day. Oh, and then there are random event planning positions in there too. It has been nothing but back and forth.

I am determined to travel as much as possible. My schedule is less than ideal at this point in time to do that. My futuristic and planner side has gotten the best of me. I want to know where I am going and when. Because on the others days I will make plans. Not knowing somewhat frustrates me. I am learning slowly that I have to accept this aspect of the job and I won't be on reserve forever. But for now, it's tough.

I think of a 9 to 5 job in which I would come home, cook dinner just in time for Wheel of Fortune and then cuddle up with a future dog and cat. And maybe putz around on a craft project and a puzzle while sipping tea. GUH. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Rhetorical question. Anyway, none of this is possible currently. And that frustrates me. But I also think of rush hour traffic, a confining cubicle, and horrible fluorescent lighting, and some of my frustration disappears. Okay, a lot of it disappears. I have yet to realize what the perfect job for myself would be, and I'm excited for the day I find it. For now, I'm still looking for 'it.' Each day I get a bit closer to what I'm looking for and what I'm not. All part of life processing. I tell ya, it never ends.

So. For now. I continue flying. I just got home from lovely Fort Dodge, Iowa. Where I took a cab from the airport to the hotel last night because there is no shuttle. Where I don't go through security because the airport is so small, and where I am in the air for 34 minutes. With less than 20 passengers each way. Coming to Minneapolis on one of the flights I had four passengers. Who said this life is rough? Oh that's right, I did. I need to take this job one day at a time and realize how nice I've got it. (Upcoming blog post about the
 'how nice I've got it' part in correlation to some books I'm reading. I'm excited!)

With that being said. I hope my mom and I can travel somewhere over the holiday weekend in a couple weeks. Where to? Good question. Stay tuned. Saturday might be a show up at the airport and see what's available type trip. Haven't I always wanted to do that? Yep. And now I just might. 01 02 18

Crazy thoughts.

There is a woman at work who commutes from Arizona in the winter to come to work out of MSP and lives here during the rest of the year. A pilot I flew with commutes from North Dakota. Those are only two. Out of who knows how many employees that can 'commute' to work. This is not your ordinary commute. No, this means hopping on a plane to come to work. Crazy? I would like to think yes, but with my new lifestyle, not so crazy anymore.

So I have been thinking. Could I commute? Now, it would be a bit tricky while on reserve. The unpredictability of my schedule would indeed be a downfall. But once I am a line holder (and who knows when that will be) this could be possible. Because nothing is impossible, right folks? The word itself says I'm Possible. Yes, I like that cheesy saying. Back to my crazy thoughts. Could I commute? Yes. Totally. Where would I commute from? I have no idea. Right now, my mind says San Francisco. I could either be based out of Salt Lake City (which would take more time to transfer) or stay out of MSP (because I can be here for eternity). I would have a cute little colorful condo on the ever climbing streets of San Francisco. An avocado tree on my patio, lemon trees in the kitchen, and bamboo fences. Not to mention, hibiscus flowers growing everywhere, sunshine most days, chilly sweatshirt weather on the other days, and not only a bay area to look at but an ocean only minutes away.

I have been to San Francisco (airport code SFO) just once. It was beautiful. Every area surrounding the San Francisco was beautiful. I had thought about going to school out West, but money played a factor there. In addition, I was not ready to make such a giant leap leaving home. But now, since I would be commuting, I have the possibility of coming home to see family and friends whenever I have days off. And that can play in the upper region of 18 days off a month. Ya see, isn't this lifestyle crazy? I sure think so.

Now that I have San Francisco on my mind. I have got to attach photos. All the photos I took were not digital. Yes, in 10th grade I did not have a digital camera. Mind you, a cell phone, people. So I can't attach ones I took, maybe some day soon I will scan them into my computer. But for now, photos of places I have been: The Bay area and surrounding Northern California. Beautiful if you ask me. Crazy thoughts? Meh.

Cable Cars. Public Transportation. Very appealing.



Hearst Castle. The drive here, gorgeous. Nothing like having the ocean by your side.



Monterey Bay. Walking the boardwalk I vividly remember a gentleman saying "Enjoy your stay, at Monterey Bay." To this day my mom and I still joke about it.

Muir Woods. I walked not only among the Red Woods but in them. Giants.

Napa Valley and Sonoma. You know that part in Parent Trap where they ride horses through a vine yard. Yep. Want to do.

I looked at jobs here. Shocking, I know. They have elephants!

Pier 39. Yep, this is a daily sight.

01 02 18

Time. Does indeed not stand still.

Over a month since my last blog. Over a month of flying under my belt. Another month of basement living. Another month. Has come and gone. For as much of a futuristic person I am, I wish time could stand still at moments, or slow down at others. Time. I tell ya.

The job: I love it. I am baffled by it. That's the word I use most to describe my feelings. One of the great perks: overnights. I stay at (mostly) really nice hotels, having a king size bed to myself, my own humble abode for a night. I've seen more airports in the past month than I have my entire life. I've flown 78 hours of actual in-flight time, and over 282 hours away from home. This life. I truly am baffled. I offer pretzels, peanuts, and cookies, and make drinks. And finish Sudoku puzzles, watch TV shows during layovers on my iPhone, read books like I've dreamt of having time for. Is it stressful? Not really. Is it repetitive? Yes. It is challenging? Not really. Do I love it at this very moment in time? Yes.

Basement living: Has not changed. My goal was to finish our basement upon graduation, especially with what I thought would be all the free time I would have on reserve the past month and a half. Did not happen. Goal for 2012 (New Years Resolutions coming): finish the basement. Then I will not only have a humble abode away from home, but a warm, comforting basement to come home to. Because as of now, when I'm gone four days a week, paying rent elsewhere to be for three doesn't make sense.

Time. Is such a precious commodity. 01 02 18

"On Reserve."

On Reserve. What the airline industry calls my current schedule. I like to say I'm "On Duty" because I feel I can relate to that more. Residence Life won't leave my side yet. So this reserve deal, I can work up to six days in row, but must have the seventh off under our contract. I can work no more than 14 hours a day, but there are certain exceptions to work more. I can work no more than nine "legs" per day (back and forth trips). I must work a minimum of 40 hours a month to get my contracted pay of a minimum of 75 hours. Did you catch all that?

On Reserve. Starting tonight at midnight. 24 hours. Until this upcoming Monday at midnight. I'm not sure what to make of this new schedule and new lifestyle. I have no trips declared on our online scheduling site, but they don't have to put the trips online in advance. Sometimes, the trips don't need to be filled until the last minute, hence where I come in, a phone call away. Waiting, prepared to leave at a moments notice. So, for now I wait.

I wait in my classy uniform that I love. The blazer fits perfectly; no boxy shoulders, phew. The shirts are all still crisp and bright white, just being opened out of their package. My new black shoes could walk me all around the world if needed. I love wearing the uniform. From the moment I leave my car in the parking lot to the moment I return, I feel so proud to wear the wings I earned over the past month. I walk with extra excitement in the click-clack of my heels, for I am a flight attendant. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought this would be my current life.

01 02 18

Navy with an accent of red.

Uniforms. I am pro-uniform, I really am. In high school, I would have LOVED to be in uniform and not worry about what to wear each day or have the stigma that attaches with what you wear. Now, I have a uniform. And some parts I like, some parts I don't. I was told today, multiple times, that the uniform is a 'classic' look. Uniform standards are set because we are an image-conscious company. Our customers perceive us based on our looks. Truth.

What I don't like: blazers. I will get my uniform pieces tomorrow hopefully so I can't say I hate it. But get this little known fact: the shoulders are suppose to extend to your outermost arm muscle. Basically, this means you are a box. Take my lovely paint picture below, my actual arms are outlined but the blue is what I'll look like. Real cool, real cool.



The red is suppose to be a scarf. No injuries to the neck peeps.



Granted. I may grow to like it, or I may grow to only wear it when neccesary: boarding, landing, walking through the airport...so basically always. Hm. The blazer challenge begins.

01 02 18

"Soaring Eagle"

Mesaba means "soaring eagle" in Ojibwe. Just one fun fact I now know about this regional airline. My story of the process goes something like this, alright it goes EXACTLY like this:

I love airports. I love to travel. But it never occurred to me that a Flight Attendant (FA) position was in reach. I love the part in Love Actually that takes place at the airport: happy faces, smiling people, tears of joy, and individuals from all over the world. I even applied for a job at a jewelry store that was at the airport in high school, but then realized I had no transportation there and couldn't commit to the hours, so I didn't get it obviously. But I have always been intrigued by the airport. Before 9/11 when you could simply walk into the airport without needing a boarding pass and barely even go through security, my dad and I would watch the planes leave from the windows at the terminals. I always thought, how in the world do these huge creatures (yes, creatures) fly.

Well. Now I'm a FA. What in the world. I am still in shock. My mom showed me the ad in the Sunday paper on October 2nd; the ad was promoting Information Sessions for Mesaba Airlines that upcoming Tuesday and Wednesday. I don't think she realized that single advertisement would lead to an actual career, but my family shouldn't be surprised with my ever-changing life. That Wednesday I took the afternoon off from work and attended the session at the Hilton Hotel in Bloomington. I thought this session would include steps to be able to apply, but to my surprise, it was a stepping stone to current open positions. I had filled out my application online the night before, brought my resume, wore my business casual best, and walked into the room not knowing what to expect.

Along with 22 others, I sat myself down and waited for information. A power point presentation lasted an hour and half full of flight attendant position details. Then, a written test, then an verbal test (yes I got to read a boarding announcement in front of everyone and share a customer service experience), and then the waiting game. The waiting game was in the hallway. Six individuals got called back in the room to be offered interviews. The list was put up on the door and then they shut the door. So this group of 22 individuals stormed to see if they made the cut (although we didn't know we were getting interviews, we were told Mesaba simply had questions to ask us) much like high schoolers seeing if they made varsity. I was on that list. A huge confidence boost went threw me, and as most applicants walked away, I stood tall in the hallway, waiting to be called in.

I was offered an interview the next day, which, I had to work, but I wasn't saying no to this opportunity. I took a sick day (because actually I was sick, and if they hired me with my nasal-y voice, apparently they must really want me) and went to the Eagan office. I got called on Friday but was working all day, and when I called back at 4:30 p.m that day, the office was already closed. So Monday, I got the phone call, offering me the position. And I accepted with a huge smile on my face.

I filled out paperwork on Tuesday morning with Mesaba, all while keeping it silent from the mall. I notified close friends to share my news. I was so shocked, so excited, yet nervous for the unknown. My last day at the mall was Saturday, October 22nd. I started classroom training on Monday, October 24th. And now, with only nine days left until I graduate with my wings, I can confidently say, I work for Mesaba Airlines as a Flight Attendant.

Classroom training has been intense. Exams just about every other day, equipment competency checks, a city codes quiz, and homework worksheets and readings each night. I know the insides and outsides of three different planes that Mesaba operates: the SFR340, CRJ200, and CRJ900. I am now CPR, First Aid, and AED certified, I have learned self-defense, security measures, customer service, safety, and much more to come in the next nine days. The feeling of being in the classroom setting is powerful. I am familiar with the classroom setting and very much enjoy it, however, having 52 other classmates gets on my nerves some days. Some of whom aren't very inclusive to each other, and to the diverse population that exists in the world. I have had to bite my tongue a time or two in conversations in class; my experiences gained throughout college has truly shaped who I am. Working as a RA and working with international students has opened my eyes to so much, and I only wish each and every person in the world could experience such a thing. I know this is a perfect fit job on paper, and the week of Thanksgiving, when I start flying, we will see if it's the perfect fit in action. Til then, it's early nights for me, studying flashcards and guides, and absorbing every word my instructors say.

Here's to being able to travel the world for my career, I can't wait to start. 01 02 18