A while back in Tampa (TPA)…we had a lovely (groan) three hour sit between flights. My flying partners and I found a great, quiet spot away from the gate to hang out in and pass the time–reading and using our laptops. (Emphasis on the quiet.)  Shortly thereafter came two young women, who sat very near us.  Like, of a hundred seats in that one gate area, and not counting the other hundreds of empty seats in the neighboring gate areas, they were 10 feet away from the three of us.   They proceeded to put their phone conversations on speakerphone–and talk and carry on like they were at a party. They were loud and boisterous and clearly obnoxious--and they knew it. A couple of friendly and professional glares…er, um…glances their way did nothing to quiet them down.

Of course, they ended up on our flight. Sorry to say, I did not feel the least bit badly for them when, during push-back, one of the ladies stopped me as we were doing our safety checks. She had left her phone in her seat at the gate and wanted the pilots to turn around and go back to the gate so she could get it.  That wasn't gonna happen!

Karma, baby…

I was nice enough to give her the customer service number for when we landed…

One leg to Denver (DEN), layover for a couple of hours, one deadhead back to Washington (IAD). Easy-peasy. (Except that the whole day was over 12 hours of duty time and only 4 hours of flight credit...) Pictures are not so great--taken with a cell phone camera.

On Christmas Eve, I received a phone call from Sally at the Crew Desk at one o'clock in the morning. Lovely. She was sending me on a San Juan turn--three and a half hours down to Puerto Rico, forty minutes there, then four hours back to Washington.

While driving to work, I called Norm in Germany. He told me about his list of things to do that day, and that later that evening, he was meeting some old friends at the bar--and would I call him when I got home that afternoon? I explained that I didn't expect to get home until about 7 p.m. (which is 1 a.m. in Germany) and he said it would be fine--that he would probably still be awake.

Our Airbus 320 to San Juan (SJU) was packed with holiday travelers on the way down there. P-A-C-K-E-D. Bodies flowed out into the aisle: long legs, broad shoulders, bent knees and elbows. Babies in laps were very vocal about their displeasure of being cooped up on the plane for so long. Mostly, though, everyone was in good spirits on this Christmas Eve.

I was tickled to find out that our returning flight had only 48 passengers. It gave my Flying Partner, Orlando and me the opportunity to have a good time with our passengers. And we did-nothing spectacular--just fun! Two little girls, about 5 years old, who spoke no English, played with me and my limited Spanish...they were so cute that I brought them warm chocolate chip cookies and cold milk from First Class. Just the kind of day that makes me really, really happy that I'm a Flight Attendant.

On the drive home, I tried to call Norm--but, his phone rang and rang and rang--he wasn't home from the bar, yet. Once I got home, Kirsten was there. Kirsten had flown up from Pensacola, FL (PNS) earlier in the day to spend the holiday with us--it was so good to see her here!

I was so tired--seven and a half hours of flying without a break is a long, long day. I hadn't slept well the night before, and could barely keep my eyes open while the three of us, two sisters and a best friend, made a little Christmas Eve celebration. Kirsten put out some appetizers and poured adult beverages--while I monitored activities through half-opened eyes.

Around 8:45, the doorbell rang. Who in the world was ringing my doorbell at that time of the night? Just to be safe, I asked the girls to "cover my back" as I went to the front door. I looked out through the peephole and quizzically said, "uhhhh, that looks like Norm." I looked out of the glass panels on the side of the door to realize that it was Norm!

With a shriek of joy, I unlocked the door, threw it open and myself on my husband! I'm not one to ever really be surprised--so I was shocked that he was home. I hugged and hugged and hugged him! I couldn't let go! (And, what a baby I am--he has only been gone for three weeks!)

Turns out that he was actually packing when I called him on my way to work. He had already looked up my schedule and saw I was going to be home on Christmas Eve night, so he used our flight benefits to non-rev home. There could not have been a better evening for me!

We gathered in the living room around the Christmas tree to pass out presents. That's when I learned that Norm had already informed Kirsten that he was coming home that night. She did such a good job keeping it from me...I had no clue!

So, we shared Christmas gifts and cookies and [insert Norman Rockwell reference here.]

I was on Reserve for Christmas Day and did not get called in for a trip. And, while nothing fabulous or dramatic happened--this Christmas Day was one of the best days in my life. Kirsten and I made dinner; friend Tim fried a turkey, and Norm brought the tablecloth down out of the dryer and...wait for it....put it on the table himself! The house was filled with love and kinship and happiness...it was just a great day!

Last night, the Crew Desk called and gave me a crap trip. I am only legal to work five and a half hours, so they are working me from Baltimore (BWI) to Denver (DEN). There they have me with a two hour layover, then deadhead back to Washington (IAD). Then, surface transportation (a car) back to the airport I started at, BWI. A twelve hour day for four hours worth of work!

Hopefully, we'll get into DEN just a few minutes early, and I'll be able to deadhead back to IAD on the earlier flight. If that happens, I'll be able to spend a few minutes with Norm, while he is at the airport heading back to Frankfurt (FRA) tonight.

Cross your fingers for me, please!

This particular Friday, was non-eventful. We arrived in XNA around 1 p.m. I wanted to get my haircut in the shopping center next door to our hotel--and Phil wanted to walk around a bit. We headed to the shopping center, and I told him that the rest of us decided to meet for dinner at 4:30 at the Outback Steakhouse, and that he should join us. He said he didn't think he would--he didn't want to have to have dinner with Frank there. He continued with telling me how he didn't like him personally and professionally--that he did not like flying with Frank--he flies "too high and too fast above the markers"...and that he lies about a lot of little, unimportant things. (I had always just thought of Frank as arrogant for no really good reason, and was perfectly happy when I closed the cockpit door each flight and he was on the other side of it!)

After doing his thing in the shopping center, Phil came back by the shop where my haircut was just finishing up and we walked back towards the hotel together. We stopped at the office supply mega-store there so he could buy some batteries. As we walked in, he told me that he was taking vacation the following week, and that his wife, Aleta, thought they were going to visit family in California. But, he had a surprise--he was taking his little family to Italy for vacation! He was so excited to surprise his wife!

We went back to the hotel--Phil's room was right across the hall from mine. A couple hours later, I met CeCe and Frank at the steakhouse. And, surprise! A few minutes later, Phil joined us, anyway.

Crew conversation almost always centers around work. Frank was kvetching about how unfairly he was being treated...blah, blah, blah-all company politics...he really was a miserable sort to sit at a dinner table with. CeCe, Phil and I didn't "have a dog in that fight" with the Company, so we tried to steer the conversation away from that. Frank got angrier and eventually left to go back to the hotel.

We finished dinner and Phil started getting antsy. He was ready to leave. CeCe and I wanted to have a drink at the bar before calling it a night, and Phil agreed. We knew he wanted to go back to his room, so we said "Go ahead." He did not want the two of us walking back to the hotel in the dark. Let me explain this to you--the restaurant is IN THE PARKING LOT of the hotel we stayed in. It is 100 feet of well-lit pavement. He was just that sort of a gentleman.

While we sat at the bar, it was (in hindsight) evident that Phil wanted to get out of there--he was not comfortable at all. We had our drink, and I paid the check--it was the first opportunity to reciprocate his breakfast from the month before. We all walked back to the hotel together.

About 15 minutes in my room, the phone rang--it was Phil. He just wanted to say thanks for the drink and "see you in the morning." This was at 7 p.m.

The hotel had a free breakfast in the mornings--and you'd be hard pressed to find a pilot turning away free food. I came downstairs around 6:20 a.m. CeCe and Frank were already downstairs. After a few minutes, I noticed Phil wasn't there yet. I called him on my cell phone to make sure he was awake. No answer. Hmmm...maybe he's running late and is in the shower. After not seeing him for a few more minutes, I called his cell phone again. Still, no answer.

By now, it was time to leave for the airport--CeCe and Frank were in the hotel shuttle. I went to the front desk and asked the clerk if I could use the house phone. Again, no answer when I called the room phone. I had the clerk check the room number and make the call himself. No answer. I knew something was wrong.

The clerk and I went upstairs together and knocked on the door. No answer. I asked him to open the door--he said a manager had to do that. A minute later the manager was there: BANG, BANG, BANG. No answer.

The manager slid her keycard into the lock--and pushed the door open. The door only opened a couple of inches-the interior latch was locked. I could see that inside his room was dark-the curtains were still closed and there was no sound coming from the room-no TV, no shower.

"You HAVE to open this door, NOW," I said. About that same, the shuttle driver came running around the corner, with CeCe and Frank right behind him. He asked, "Do you want me to kick the door in?" "Yes!" I said as I turned to the manager and said "Please call 911!"

Joe, the driver, kicked the door open. Frank and CeCe filed into Phil's room, a suite. I went in behind the driver and the manager.

Joe walked over to the drawn curtains and opened them. Phil was laying on his back, in bed, with his eyes closed. Frank stood beside his bed and just said "He's gone."

CeCe hollered, "Check his pulse!" And Frank did. Our Captain was dead.

Minutes passed slowly and like lightning. The three of us hunkered down in my room, which was directly across the hall. The Rogers, Arkansas Police Department showed up--and we had to fill in detailed reports. The staff of the hotel brought us bottled water and Ibuprofen, and did everything they could to accommodate us.

After writing our individual reports for the police, Frank, who lives in Richmond, VA decided that this was an easy way to get out of the rest of his trip, and he was ready to go home. "if I can get the next flight out of here, I can be home by 2 p.m." CeCe and I, sitting next to each other, just held hands and decided we were going to stay with Phil until they took his body away--that was what we would want someone to do for our family member.

Frank ended up staying with us, by default-the Company, deadheaded us back to Chicago (ORD) and later, home to Washington (DCA) for me and Richmond (RIC) for Frank.

When we arrived in ORD, our Inflight Managers and the Assistant Chief Pilot (ACP) met our airplane at the gate. Up until then, CeCe and I had stayed strong--we had kept our tears to a minimum. I walked off the plane, and was greeted by Robert, the ACP. He hugged me and I handed him Phil's pilot hat. And, I lost it. It was an uncontrollable cry for a few minutes. I cried and cried over the loss of such a good man, my friend.

An autopsy revealed that he died of a massive heart attack. I attended his funeral, which was held here in the Washington, DC Metro. A sea of Navy Blue polyester, worn by his friends from his many years at the airline, filled the church. Pilots and Flight Attendants from American Eagle, American Airlines and Southwest Airlines (where Aleta works) showed up in uniform to pay their final respects to Phil. The family arranged for us to be honorary pallbearers. We were lined up on either side of the church aisle--there wasn't a dry eye in the place when his casket was carried between the uniformed crew members.

It was there I met his wife, Aleta and his brother, Andy. It was also there that I learned his wife was newly pregnant with his baby. Their son, Phillip III was born 8 months later.

It was sad he died alone, in a hotel room, in a strange city. It was sad that his son will never know him, and, at best, Ella will have vague memories of him. The saddest part with Phil's passing, though, is the huge hole that was left in humanity.

Tailwinds, Captain Phil!

I expect to see snowflakes falling outside of our windows at any moment now. Friends in the surrounding Washington, DC area are reporting snowfall. The local news is

calling for 14-20 inches between tonight and Sunday morning. Wow! And winter doesn't even start until Tuesday!

I am fortunate not to be flying during this weekend's Winter Wonderland. Earlier this afternoon, my airline cancelled most flights through late afternoon tomorrow. Not the best timing for a

storm...the weekend before Christmas!

So, while I am planning to enjoy our freak snowstorm, I am not hoping for ruined holiday plans...and don't forget my top travel tips and also be sure you have your Plan B in place!

And, starting Monday, I'll be flying through the day after Christmas. With all the families and holiday stress piled under our Snowfest '09, I am sure it is going to be an....adventure! I'll take

notes and let you know!

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Edit: Saturday night--airports in DC are closed for the most part, until tomorrow morning. Here's some pictures from the snowstorm:

Our neighbor e-mailed this to me this afternoon--our house from her house, around 2 p.m. Look at the snow on the roof of my car!

The snow against the screen on the sliding glass door on our deck.

I was out playing in the snow with my neighbor, Melody. She pointed behind me and said, "Look! There's an elf!" And look what was there:

Our very own neighborhood elf*!

Traveling with kids can be a nightmare. A few years ago, when I was flying regional jets, I worked a flight from Chicago (ORD) to White Plains, NY (HPN). This was one of our most hated flights. Similar to New York-Palm Beach flights, the seats can be filled with whiny brats--and their children, too.

There is only one Flight Attendant on the Embraer-145. This 50-seat RJ is configured 1 and 2--meaning in each row there is one seat on the window, the aisle, then two seats. After the plane was boarded, I did my compliance checks (seatbelts, seatbacks, electronic devices, etc.) In Row 15, on the "A" side, was an man in his mid-thirties, lost in his newspaper. On the "BC" side in Row 15, was a thirty-something woman, struggling with a child next to her in the window seat. The little girl, about four years old, was screaming at her mother, crossing her arms, yelling "no" and refusing to have a seat or put the seatbelt on.

I didn't want to add to the mother's stress--I saw she was struggling with the girl to make her sit down. "Baby Jacqueline," she begged, "please sit down and put your seatbelt on!"

The child made loud, "I'm not doing anything you tell me to do" sounds. Sorta like....meh! Meeeeh! Meh!

"Baby Jacqueline," she implored, "we'll buy you a toy when we get home if you sit down, please. I'll get you the American Girl doll you want." (And, yes, she referred to the child as "Baby Jacqueline")

Nothing. The kid kept messing around. She was playing with the Passenger Service Unit (PSU) which is the fancy name for the panel above your seat with the lights, Flight Attendant call button, and the vents on it. Bing! Bing! Bing! Baby Jacqueline played with the call button. Bing! Bing! Bing! The child loved that call button! In her seat, "Baby Jacqueline" stood on her tippy-toes, reaching over her head to keep pressing the button: Bing! Bing! Bing!

I had a fine line to walk--to keep the Mom as a customer happy, but to remember I had a plane full of other passengers who expected an ontime departure and an ontime arrival.

I walked towards the back of the aircraft, and leaned down to the mother and quietly asked if there was anything I could do to help her. "No", she managed to reply before turning to the young girl and saying, "Baby Jacqueline, if you don't stop the Stewardess is going to be mad at you." (No, Lady, I wouldn't be mad at your four year old, I promise...)

Because we had started to push back--that is, the tug was moving us away from the gate, it was imperative that this little girl be sitting down with her seat belt on. It is an Federal Aviation Regulation--a requirement for pushback. I would need to inform my Captain if everyone wasn't in compliance. I very nicely asked the mother if she needed more time--that I would call the Captain and ask him to wait until she was able to get her little girl settled...

The harried mother turned away from me and conceded to the little girl. "Baby Jacqueline, I have some candy for you. Wait...wait a second, I'll get it for you. It's right, yes...yes, right here" Having moved three rows to the back of the airplane, this vantage point allowed me to see the woman struggling with the bag she had under the seat in front of her. Bing! Bing! Bing! She was digging around and finally came up with the prize: a huge bag of M & Ms. This was not the individual sized bag you see at a convenience store. This was a "fill your candy dish" size of brightly colored pellets.

The mom pulled open the bag of candy at the seams and handed the entire huge bag to her brat. Baby Jacqueline, in turn, took the colossal opened bag of M & Ms and flung them forward-in a motion similar to a lawn sprinkler.

Watching all this from his single seat in the same row, Baby Jacqueline's father leaned across the aisle and his wife, grabbed the little girl by her left foot and pulled her down. As she was quickly and unceremoniously being seated by his action, he yelled at her, "Sit down, goddammit!"

The little girl was reduced to a puddle of tears and sobs. Mom seatbelted her in. From the back of the aircraft, I walked forward to my jumpseat, kicking aside hundreds (okay, not hundreds, but a lot!) of brightly colored M & Ms.

Since we were taxiing out, I situated myself on the jumpseat, facing the passengers. Our pilots' procedure is to call before making that final turn onto the runway--one last check to make sure everything is okay in the cabin, and we can take off. Oblivious to what was going on in the cabin, and it was now a non-issue, through the interphone, I told the guys "all set."

The pilots turned onto the runway, and started the take-off roll. When they rotated--that is, pulled the airplane's nose into the air to begin to fly--all those rainbow-colored M & Ms rolled towards the back of the airplane where they collected into a substantial pile at the last row.

And, because they all fell asleep once airborne, I never heard another word from the Mom, Dad or Baby Jacqueline.

We're leaving for London in a couple of hours--the flight looks good for getting a standby seat. Tomorrow night, we having dinner with Anna-Ruby, a family friend I haven't seen in a couple of years. We're going to Mela, a terrific Indian restaurant--London is definitely the place to go to get spoiled with delicious Indian food!

So, running through the checklist--passport, laptop, camera--and I am just about ready to go!

In the meantime, here is a fun flight attendant blog--check out In Case of Emergency -- Life in the sky of an Aussie flight attendant, her crash pad on the 'net!

Hi! Welcome to the new place! With the help of my fantastic interior designer, Darcy, over at Graphically Designing, we've painted and moved some furniture around. We've gotten rid of the clutter, refinished the woodwork and hung some pretty drapes. What do you think?

I still have some work to do, but in the meantime, make yourself at home (yes, you can prop your feet up on the coffee table if you like) and grab a drink out of the refrigerator. You are welcome to watch TV or better yet, revisit some of my favorite posts:

With the holidays upon us, and Christmas travel being some of the busiest, here are my Top Three Travel tips, also known as Plan B.

An e-mail from one of the best Captains I ever flew with sparked this post:

Captain as Flight Attendant-not pretty!

From a lovely trip to Buenos Aires:

Hola from Buenos Aires!

and

Caskets, Steaks and Wine

Here's an Important Flight Attendant announcement!

This is a glimpse into the waiting game in the life of a Reserve Flight Attendant: The List, The Trips, The Call, The Voice.

Notes from the Cocktail Napkin...