Showing posts with label chattanooga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chattanooga. Show all posts

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Winged Whimsy Weekly

Well, its that time again where I share with you my favorite snapshots from the week. I confess, some weeks I dont have too much of a camera bug, but I think I still got a few good ones.
But first, I'm going to whine a little about Christmas. One of the unfortunate side effects of my job is if I don't fly very much, I still get paid a salaried amount, but without any of the nice per diem pay for overnights on trips. In addition, I don't have any opportunities to get money from crew cash (the credit card applications we get paid $50 each for on acceptance). So, my upcoming paycheck looks pretty pathetic to say the least. What's worse is normally the check on the 15th is our big boy, which we rely on for financial legroom (read: Christmas presents for others).
I realize I'm complaining when I get to sit around, do practically nothing all month and still get paid a salary, but there definitely is a trade-off you know? I'd rather be working my butt off and making a decent check than sitting bored out of my mind in Charlotte and getting bupkis.
*sigh*
With all that aside, I had a fabulous week (and by week I mean month) of doing next to nothing.
photo (11)
Darcy got a Twinkie making machine. He mixed all the secret ingredients (for the Twinkie and the filling) and made some delicious treats which we took to a holiday party. We're doing the same thing for another party we're going to tonight and it should be just as fabulous!
photo (10)
The results of our toils: fresh, homemade Twinkies. Believe me, they're even tastier than the manufactured kind!
photo (13)
On a shopping trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond, Darcy became acquainted with the likes of a massaging chair. I was afraid he'd never move again.
photo (12)
Can you see what those clever BB&B employees spelled out? Made me giggle.
photo (14)
On one of the miraculous days that I actually flew to Philly, I saw real live snow on the ground. As a bonafide Southern girl, this is practically a phenomenon. Exclamations were made. Unfortunately I couldn't jump out of the plane and go make a snow angel.
Holiday dinner and gift exchange at Mt. Vernon Restaurant with old friends
Holiday dinner and gift exchange at Mt. Vernon Restaurant with old friends


Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Winged Whimsy Weekly

Another outrageously long  highly anticipated couple of weeks  month  amount of time has passed since my last smattering of photos from my flight attending life.

You'll have to forgive my tardiness, as I have to import the photos directly from my phone to my email, and sometimes even steal an especially good snapshot from friends. Then, sometimes wordpress takes issue with the size of the photo, so I have to carefully go back through and reduce them all to the same size and ensure they upload. Then, I make sure they're atleast somewhat in chronological order. It's a process and I'm working on it.

I hope the wait is worth it.

[caption id="attachment_782" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2569 Playing Pathfinder (a version of Dungeons and Dragons) at Darcy's house. While waiting my turn I got creative and stacked the dice.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_783" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2591 I made a new friend! Bryanna is an exceptionally cool lady! We connected instantly over our love of trivia, Sex and the City and bellydance.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_790" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2574 ZOINKS! Look at that incredibly handsome young man sporting a bow tie! A friend referred to this look as "Orville Redenbacher's love child".[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_784" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2585 layover in Orlando right before Thanksgiving. It was really nice to get away from the cold for awhile![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_787" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2583 I had my first experience at Denny's! I tried Bilbo's Breakfast from the Hobbit themed menu.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_785" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2590 I got to visit my grandmother in Lyles for Thanksgiving. The way I got the holiday weekend off was kind of a miracle. More on this later.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_791" align="alignnone" width="642"]IMG_2576 Watching our friends The Molly Maguires play in Chattanooga at one of our favorite bar's: The Honest Pint. Gotta love having a Guiness and listening to good music![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_795" align="alignnone" width="642"]Angel Tree'13 f Belle and I volunteered at United Way for their Angel Tree event. Basically we helped sort toys for needy children. It was so much fun, and our group kept us laughing the entire time![/caption]

[caption id="attachment_796" align="alignnone" width="642"]Angel Tree'13 d Blast from the past![/caption]

 

Monday, November 18, 2013

The Treacherous Twenties

When asked what was the most awkward time period of their lives, most people would probably tell you high school, or just their teenage years in general. Why? The sudden growth in height leading to excessive clumsiness as our balance adjusts, the onslaught of hormones, uncertainty of who we are and what we stand for, peer pressure, acne, insecurity. The list goes on and on. Here's the irony: high school wasn't remotely awkward for me. Sure, it had its moments, but they didn't crush my spirit and send me home to cry myself to sleep.

I used to wear crazy earrings every day, and I remember this one girl teasing me about a particularly "out there" pair. I think she went so far as to call them ugly. I recall smiling and responding to her comment by telling her that she looked lovely that day. Eons later at our 5 year class reunion she told me that there was no snarky or mean response that could have crushed her more and she admired me for taking the high road and being "better than her."

I was smart, had good grades, had a fun group of oddball nerd friends and a fantastic (or so I thought) boyfriend who was in college. Life was good. And then, I walked across the stage at Memorial Auditorium in May 2006, and was asked a very impertinent question at my college orientation:
"What do you want to do with your life?"

High school had been easy because I always knew, without a shred of doubt, what was next and exactly how I could meet or exceed a goal. My life was sequestered into a series of tests, class bells, deadlines and weekends. This college business was entirely new because all of a sudden the only real authority figure holding the reins on my destiny was me. Worse— I didn't fully realize this earth-shattering transition. I was still very much a woman-child, without any clue what weight the decision of picking a career would mean. I started out in Graphic Design, since I liked to doodle in the margins of my notebooks and I had gotten some compliments on my artistic ability. You heard me right: I was prepared to pursue a career in something because I liked to doodle. O_o

I quickly realized my classmates' talent for design and migraine-inducing amount of attention paid to detail far surpassed my own and decided to change my major to an avenue I knew I excelled at: writing. I threw myself into journalism headfirst and covered a lot of ground; I became an editor of the student newspapers, and successfully completed 5 professional internships before I was a junior.

Then, out of left field, the economy crashed in 2008 and the prospects of holding a job as a "whipped cream" major plummeted. I remember a Professional Writing teacher having us pretend we had just graduated and were looking for jobs, and I found absolutely nothing in Chattanooga that I was qualified for and paid more than minimum wage. It was definitely a sinking moment of truth; all that work, all that time was for naught unless I wanted to move away or go to grad school for a (only slightly better) shot at success. In retrospect, if I had sucked it up and taken a grueling midnight to 5 am position at a news station, and then parlayed that experience into a journalism position at the paper or a local magazine, I could have made it. But I didn't want "maybe if you work hard it will pay off. But maybe you just wasted 4 years of your life for a useless major".  I wanted my effort to yield plentiful fruit. I wanted security.

This is a central theme in the life of Beth Warren. Security vs. The Unknown. During the course of my treacherous twenties I have swayed between the two like a pendulum. When I found out the dismal prospects of my current major, I went to the local student counseling center and took a career placement test based on my personality and proficiencies. My results were surprising; among the "ideal career" for me was accounting, counseling, writing and nursing.

"Accounting?" I thought ,"really?"

Then I looked at the annual salary of an accountant, as well as the stability of the finance industry and decided it was definitely worth considering. It wasn't easy; in fact I recall a teacher in Intermediate Accounting saying that it was his goal to try to pass as few of us as possible because he wanted to weed out the students who didn't really plan to put in the effort to understand the tricky concepts. I loved it and thrived on the challenge. Unfortunately, as I got out into the working world as a staff accountant, I had a few unpleasant realizations:

a.) The lack of variety in my day to day tasks, unless of course I wanted to go back to school and get my Masters/CPA. At the time, the thought of going abck to school was about as appealing as getting beaten with a dead fish.
b.) After spending 6 years in college, I had never actually left Tennessee and seen the world. I ached for "the great wide yonder," and seeing what was outside of my familiar little bubble.

Security in a career path, while comforting, was not very appealing in lieu of my lack of world experience. Hence, the pendulum swung back again and I applied to the airline industry. The rest, as you know, is history.

Now, almost exactly a year later, I sit with much more experience. I have flown all over the world, seen amazing things, and had my comfort zone blasted into a thousand tiny bits with a combination of jet fuel and enthusiasm. Its been a crazy adventure, and I'm so glad I took the opportunity when it was there. However, I can sense in myself a need for....wait for it....more stability. The next chapter lies ahead and I'm very excited to get to share it with you all soon.
In the mean time, here are some fun throwback pictures from my not-so-awkward high school days and the beginning of my ever-so-awkward college days!

[caption id="attachment_757" align="alignnone" width="604"]227260_509309029028_4776_n Me in college, Fall of 2006 with my little brother, on the day I moved into my new dorms at UTC[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_758" align="alignnone" width="604"]216728_509308924238_8427_n My 2005 prom dress and my "glass slippers"[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_759" align="alignnone" width="604"]227065_509309058968_7267_n showing off the kitchen and entryway of the dorm[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_760" align="alignnone" width="604"]228340_509309068948_8120_n lounging on the couch[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_761" align="alignnone" width="604"]217126_1005693711616_6755_n Me and some highschool friends at Coolidge park one weekend[/caption]

 

 

Sunday, July 21, 2013

It's not the years, it's the mileage

“Your flight has been cancelled.”

These are the five words I like least to hear. Ever. Especially when it means I no longer have a way to get back to Charlotte for a 4 day trip I’ll be working early the next day.

Well, curses, I think to myself. What do I do? A quick perusal of my employee flight scheduling website tells me there is a 5 am plane from Chattanooga to Charlotte the next day, but there’s no guarantee it won’t also be cancelled due to this ridiculous weather. Or worse— full from all the people who missed the aforementioned flight that was just cancelled. I can only get on a flight if there is an open seat that hasn’t been sold.

If I don’t get back to Charlotte in time to check in at 8:30, I am royally screwed.

I could take a chance, and hope for the best.

“Or, I could drive you back, and guarantee you make it on time,” said Darcy.

I shake my head.

“It’s a 5-and-a-half hour drive, and we wouldn’t get there until 3 am,” I object. “That would be exhausting for you.”

He shrugged. “We’ll do what we have to do. Bottom line is you need to be back in Charlotte.”

We checked every reputable weather site for information on whether or not the 5 AM flight to Charlotte would be a safe bet, but the results were mixed. Some said it would be clear, but others showed ominous signs of storms moving around the general area.

It looked like driving would be the best option.

The entire way back (and 2 red bulls later) Darcy never complained. I was talkative and excited to go on a “road trip” together at first, but then I passed out asleep for the remaining hour or two of the trip. I had asked him to wake me if he got too fatigued, and needed me to drive awhile, but he never took me up on the offer.

What’s funny is he wasn’t trying to earn “boyfriend points”  or use it to lord over me later in some douchey power play. I’ve known couples who do that to each other. It ain’t pretty.

He views it as a part of his duty to the people he loves, and does it without question.

2 hours after we arrived in Charlotte, and crashed in bed, we got a notification that the flight to Charlotte from Chattanooga had left on time. So, the bet we took didn’t pay off. Technically.

But that’s not the point. I’m not even trying to prove that Darcy is the best boyfriend to ever grace this planet (although he is).

One of the toughest things about this job is the relationships we try to maintain back where we came from. A lot of the people I went to training with have gotten divorced or broken up over being a flight attendant. Jealousy or ego or any number of other hidden/ignored relationship problems seem to surface when you require this much freedom in your job. A lesser man would’ve told me I was on my own in the above situation. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave up a weekend night that he could’ve spent with his friends or family, and selflessly made sure I got back to where I needed to be.

If I didn’t make it back to base on time, as a reserve, I could’ve gotten in huge trouble—even fired. It’s no-nonsense in the flight attendant world!

Get with someone who supports you, and doesn’t make you pick between them and your job. Get with someone who compromises and communicates with you. Get with someone who doesn’t have envy issues, or control issues, or any number of other issues that crop up when you have a long-distance relationship.

Anything less isn’t worth your time. As the saying goes, “its not the years, its the mileage”. Aka, its not how long you’ve been together; its how far you’re willing to go to create a healthy relationship that lasts. Trust your instincts. If there is passive aggressive guilt tripping going on, there may be more to the story than your partner is telling you.

I’m not going to sugar coat it for you; having a relationship as a flight attendant doesn’t always work. In fact, it usually doesn’t. As I mentioned before, this job is the end to most romantic relationships because it asks so much of the person you’re leaving at home.

Consider what you need, what you can offer, and what you should/shouldn’t expect from another person. I got very, very lucky with Darcy, and I’ll never take that for granted. When you gamble with your heart, and win big, its worth all the risk in the end.