Traveling business

This was my first time that I had the privilege to travel business class and experience what it feels like to switch places with the over confident, snobby folks up front, who get to stretch out and have their dinner served on a white tablecloth.

Our stewardess greeted us with a wide Colgate smile, then frowned at her co-hostess seemingly wondering what these two unimportant kids are doing at this section. One of them did a double take on the ticket in her surprise and with a pissy attitude showed us to seats 2A and 2B ... obviously, she did not realize what important figures we were in the world today and she incorrectly placed us to the "justupradedsuckerswithoutapenny " category (well, almost correct, but I still want a bit of recognition now that I travel business!)

I nestled into my blue leather seat of Czech Airlines and covered myself with a red blanket (the one that I later on packed up into my bag as an accessory for Summer concerts in Central Park. Geoff was a bit hesitant to acquire this piece of finely woven polyester, but I assured him that we are not doing anything illegal, just living it up to the old Communist regime and we paid for it anywayinaway, so we deserve it! He doubtfuly still stuffed the red rug into the carry on and I satisfactorily concluded that my persuading techniques are working as good as ever) and pitifully looked at the economy class passerby’s as they were making their way towards their match boxes just to be stuck in between two seats and getting crams in their legs and the scariest of all - being exposed to the ECONOMY class syndrome - something that will never get!

IIIIIIIIIII, get to experience the luxury of stretching out my limbs as I wish, being greeted by an unidentifiable flower stem in a bathroom and eat like kings do (I mean those in Guliver's land judging by the 2.54 centimeter wide circles with half of a baby tomato on the top of the sandwiches served as appetizers).


Besides the extra leg space the other positive attribute of business class is the food - at least that's what I thought. The English menu tossed to me by the not-so-friendly stewardess said "Chicken Singapore noodles with chicken" (if anyone still wonders - it was a chicken dish with chicken in it). While pointing out the thorough description of the dish on the menu I hear the OldGuyinfrontofusobviouslyNOttheUpgradedcategory inquire curiously about the noodles ....

"What are thos Chicken Singapore noodles with chicken like?"

(The steuwie melts with kindness and puts on a celebrity photo smile)
"Which one?”
”AAhhh ohhhh ihhhh the noodles?”
”Well, they’re like Chinese" ...

I think I know ("Know" being the operative term) what she meant, but imagine describing "French Onion Soup" as .... "Well, it's like German". No Frenchman would tolerate that!

Then came breakfast! Geoff is anal (The anal stage in psychology is the term used by Sigmund Freud to describe the development during the second year of life, in which a child's pleasure and conflict centers are in the anal area. This stage is exemplified by the toddler's pleasure in controlling his or her bowels. ... not my definition, but from Wikipedia) about his milk ...
He will NOT poor whole milk down his throat, only the colorless and flavorless 1% or fat free kind!

So, here comes the pissed off stewardess and asks Geoff what he'd like for breakfast and he decides on cereal ... Mind you, it's God knows what time in the morning and all three of us - Geoff, myself and the steuwie are still in a state of "IwishIwasinMycomfortableBed" ... we both wish we were in Prague already and not on the wings of an airplane, while she just wishes that we were at least some celebrities of sort or someone with a social status or something / someone more exciting than our two creased faces ...

So, Geoff following his Freudian inclinations asks ..
"What type of milk do you have?"

(You've never seen anyone dumbfounded until you saw this woman's mouth drop open .. eyes go wide .. she's obviously not understanding the question .. but her English was so good thus far ... )

“What do you mean?"
(puts her hands on her childbearing hips that professionaly glide between the rows of seats ...)

"CaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaOO
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWSSS????????????????!!!!!!!!!!”

(Question mark, question mark, question mark

exclamation, exclamation, exclamation, exclamation!!! ... )

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"Ok! I'll have that one!"

Geoff looks at me with his Pocahontas stretched morning eyes not having strength to explain what he meant to the gal …

I burst out laughing at the thought of what she may be thinking ...
(“TheseSonandDaughterofNoone kids really came from the booniees .. Do they think will serve them goat milk?!”)

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And she is back with a bowl full of COWS milk trying to balance the bowl in her hands so that it won't spill over her uniform and we are a bit concerned also as she places the thing on Geoff’s lap ... (Geoff has recurring nightmares from a previous experience from years ago when a waiter spilled a glass of ice water in his crotch!)

“Here it is! A bowl of COWS milk and your box of cornflakes!" ... somewhat an unusual way of serving breakfast, but we manage ... we float the cereal in the bowl and start a match (we are competitive that way!) chasing cornflakes around the ceramic white dish with a spoon ... getting points for a dunken cornflake ... two strikes and you're out! ...

My darling gets frustrated and is fed up with the business class experience and let's admit, he is loosing the game ... he decides to take the fate of the cereal to his own hands (pardon me, mouth ... ) He pours down the content of the mini box into his pre-digestive cavity on the opposite side from the Freudian theory, picks up the bowl, drinks the left over Cows milk and yoouuuheeey we're such an outoftheboxthinkers! ... Had breakfast, stretched, and I now
can put it on my resume: ”I traveled business!”

Ahoj from Prague

YOuuuhoouu .. so here I am almost home and yes, what a looser writing a blog entry
from this beautiful city! ... Well, I kinda have time for another few minutes, so I thought to put down all these feelings and emotions that I have before they become part of a grey memory.

I LOVE PRAGUE! .. I've always loved this city, but every time I come back I seem to notice new restaurants, buildings and just get new vibes about being here.

On the other hand, there are things that have not changed since the Communist era, things that remind of my childhood and bring back memories of living in Czechoslovakia! SOme people are able to recognize a country by its smell, I have an ability to detect a former Communist country by the quality of its TOILET PAPER! The Teepee here is like a piece of the freshly printed New York Times or the sand paper used to clean school desks surfaces from random quotes such as "I love you Mary: or "Ms. SMith is a B-i-t-c-h" ... My butt is slowly getting accustomed to it, but still ... Prague has now Nike stores, and massage parlors and casinos, and big cars, and expensive jewellry stores and drugs and rock and roll, so what happened with TP???? Why is this market so behind? Are Czechs just not that sensitive about their behind? There is a market growth opportunity for someone out there with money! Invest in TP!

WHile most people are really pleasant and nice I am terrified of the old ladies at small kiosks and deli's ... As a tourist, I go to the ATM, take out some money (no choice in what denomination you get it) and try to buy a travel ticket. After standing on line (which I don't mind) I make my way to the grumpy old lady who looks at my hand squeezing my 2000 Czeh Crowns bill and tells me virtually to get lost "And where should I get all that change from? YOu should have exact change if you want to buy stuff at this storeIhateTouristsTheyareallthesameGoTothe
ATMtakeout moneyandexpectmeToHavetheRightchange.... blblablablablabla" ...
I feel so guilty! I am part of this ladie's misery and making her life just harder than what it already is on her 8000 Crowns a month wage ... I am just about to apologize with my head down, embarrased .... when the American in me awakens and I tell her that "I am a consumer" and she should be glad I shop here and it'snotmyproblemthat
shedoesnothavechangeandyoubettergivemethosedarnticket
sandsomechange! Now we're both pissed, but I win ... (hehe) she tossed the tickets on the counter, hands me my change that I carefully re-count and wish her a wonderful day, just as good as she's been having so far!

The situation repeats ... again and again .. this time I am buying water, more tickets and a paper ...

Traveling in a crammed tram/subway is an experience ... I've already mentioned "knowing a country by its smell" ... the smell .. .ooooouuuu aaaaaa ... I was almost going to understand not having change, and having to wipe my butt with rough paper, but was not prepared for the smell .. yuck! There are deodorants abound in all drug stores, so why have many not discovered them yet???

Anyway ... I have to run ... will check back later ... I love Prague! xoxox

Things that piss me off and more ...

You all know how much I like the American Bob Marley spirit (of course I know he is Jamaican :) of "Everything is gonna' be all right!" and all the cheering and support and fake and real smiles that one gets living here ... but today I got so pissed off ...

Walking to work I picked up the free subway paper AM and leafed through the pages reading big city news. Well, yesterday a 21 years old homeless person stabbed 4 people while riding a subway train! The story shook all New Yorkers and their feeling of commuter security (Because Al Kaida does not do a good job at that already ...) When my visitors come to New York I am always the one, who reverses their subway phobia and tells stories, how it may be a dirty, smelly place and a playground for germs, but it really is safe, OK to ride and even fun at times.

One of the victims is a 21 years old Texan, who was sightseeing New York with his girlfriend. According to the paper he just about escaped death after undergoing an emergency heart surgery yesterday, but now he is conscious and says he already "forgave the attacker"?

"Forgave the attacker" ... I keep thinking how it all happened .... he gets out of anaesthasia lucky to have survived, opens his eyes and says "I forgive him?!" .. no mention of the life threatening operation, the fact that he is most likely in pain and dealing with emotional and physiological stress and spoiled vacation! “Let’s all just love each-other and live happily ever after” .. . lalalaaaa ...

Call me the five letter word if you wish, but I can not phantom myself in this scenario.

What does "forgive" mean?

Tap, tap on the shoulder, group hug, big juicy kiss on the cheek "It's ok son, just don't do it again?" ... the attacker gives the sad puppy face .. walks away ….”Yo brother! It's all ok!" High five, knuckle bump, thumbs up!

Isnt’ that great? We’re a one big happy family here on Earth!

”I forgive” ???? I am sorry, but if this was me I would not forgive ... I'd tell him how much I hate him for what he did, that he is in the same category as Harry, I’d spit on his face or at least jump on his foot trillion times (like Geoff does to me while tango-ing) and make him slave for the next 30 years under supervision, in prison spending his time doing community service, picking up garbage, cleaning the subway trains or pulling rickshaws on foot around Central Park with cancer patients and survivors enjoying their day ... You bet I'd be in the back seat directing traffic! "Hmmm ... a little faster, faster, yeah ... I did not like that bump, please avoid it next time! Ok, I forgive, you can take a break now ... Thank you! WHo's next for the ride?"

* * * * * *

Anyway I am still excited to fly home, but mom is driving me crazy - she is persuaded that all diseases come from being cold and getting cold and she calls every day to remind me that I should bring warm clothes, specifically tights ... “becauseItellYoualltheTImeButyouneverListenEven
thoughItisNow40degresCelziusButYouneverKnowWhatCouldhappen”
I, in return comfort her that my hats and gloves and yes, tights! for Slovakia Summer are already packed and Thanks God I have her to tell me what to bring and how to dress otherwise I'd be lost and calling the Slovak tourist board for advice. (Misa gets those calls all the time .. "Helloo, I am traveling to the Czech Republic .. does it rain in August? What gifts shall I bring my Czech relatives? Do I need vaccination? "I heard there is a peace march the week we're there, will there be traffic? What roads will be closed?" “Do Czechs sleep in national costumes? “I am sailing to the Czech Republic, where do I get a sailor’s permission to enter? )

Ok ... I'll go now still have to pack and I just spend a productive work hour producing this blablabla on the blog :)

Just an update

Today was the Puerto Rican parade in Nueva York. A wonderful event by all means!
Blue white and red flags, garbage littering the streets and crazy loud speakers vomiting the newest reggaeton for hours! I am sure the inhabitants of the upscale 5th Avenue must have been thrilled by all the happenings in their neighborhood.

We didn't go - I've lived here so long and never have I had the urge to participate in such a street fiesta. For those that do not know, the boricua (Puerto Rican) parade is famous for
girls in skimpy clothes. Many mamasitas, well endowed with bits and pieces hanging over
the line above the belt or overflowing on the sides or bulging out of the bra come out this day! (You can't say I am writing this because I am jealous, huh? .. I got them! :)

I remember once, during the height of my waitresing career at the Barking Dog, on the PR parade morning two policemen walked into the restaurant and ordered their breakfast before reporting for duty. Shelly or Mii-chelle as I call her was waiting on them (having a soft spot for men in uniform) and asked where they were heading that day .. the two handsome policemen responded: "The PR parade" when Shell putting down their two eggs sunny side up with hash browns and rye toast (butter on the side) winked at them and said "For that event you're wearing too much!" ...

Anyway, I am so excited! We're flying home on Friday ..Well, not home but Prague is close enough! My smarty Geoff is giving a presentation and I am meeting a few high school friends and having my cousin with her daughter come and stay. A few days later will drive home to Danube Wednesday and enjoy the June winter and some home cooked meals.

Yeah .. What’s up with the weather? It's been so cold! I am dying to wear my summer dresses and copying the Ricans ... show off some skin and flash. No luck so far ... I am stuck with long sleeves and pants!

I want to see the "Inconvenient truth"; the film by Al Gore about global warming ... Julia already scared the heck out of me the other day... I saw her by coincidence right after she saw the movie and she would not stop going on and on and oooon about it "ELviButyouhavetorealizethat....
thepolarbearsaredrowningwewonthaveanyrivers,
therewillbenonewyorkandnoeuropeandaustralianisshrinkingandwillalljustdie"
Shit!
Cancer does not sound that bad at the end of the day now that I am in a
race for survival with polar bears!

Geoff says Al was wrong! It's not global warming! It's global freezing ... apparently in Hungary they requested heating ....

My tango mania continues! By all signs I am getting back to normal self - I bitch and bitch and bitch about things and pick fights as before cancer ... YAY!!! Here! You wanted it, you've got it! You've got the old Elvi again!

I mostly bitch during tango classes ... there are days when I feel like I got it down and I am irresistible and all that but let's face it .. when an 80 years old man rejects you after a single dance is that suppose to lift my confidence? Yeah! It happened! Normally you dance a
set of four songs at milongas (tango discos) ... Not HIM! (The 80 years old one) ... he kind of walked away from me after one song after realizing that I am just an enthusiastic learner who can swing her legs right and left, but has no idea about the steps ... Hm ... Just living my life again ...

Life after surgery

I know I promised to write about the operation, but due to the fact that I was pretty traumatized by the whole process I just tell you that it sucked! Big time! It felt like I was run over by a truck! The first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes after the operation was "Why the heck would anyone go through this torture voluntarily?" ... well, I know why, but I was always happy with my cute little M&M's under the carpet size. I always managed ... if I wanted to impress the other sex, I'd buy that extra padded Victoria's Secret bra and achieve a pretty impressive display anyway.

I am pretty much ready with sizing and shaping (one more procedure left in the Fall) and am happy to report, that good ol' plastic doc (the one who knows me only by my boobs and not face) did an incredible job! I've acquired two beautiful cantaloupes ... pretty impressive in some of my lower cut tops.

Ooops .. maybe I shouldn't have told the whole world about my fruits ... my friend's friend's brother's girlfriend had a boob job done just for "fun" and now every time there is a family event the entire family talks to her boobs instead of her face ... The fascination never stops - her operation was 3 years ago!!! I'd hate that to happen to me.

Do you know that quote by Woody Allen:
"Bisexuality doubles your chances for Saturday night date" (?)
No, no I did not have a change of hearts in my sexuality, however with new boobs and a boy crew cut I am pretty much getting attention 360! The other day an obviously flaming lesbian stared my wrap dress off me and just walking out of the subway an unknown man left his eyes behind my v-neck and commented under his nose something highly perverted (at least by the look of it ..).

Other comments regarding my look come from my dancing partners these days
"Are you French?"

Is this an insult or a compliment?