I apologize in advance for this long ass post. seriously. imma try to include some pictures in here to make it less infinite.
As I sit here in my 20B seat on my way to San Francisco, I think about my family. My mom on the jumpseat of the plane, and Dad and Karen already in San Francisco. The jumpseat is rough and I feel for my Mom; you don’t get to fall asleep and you don’t get the luxury of sitting in a relatively comfortable, reclining plane seat. Do you recall that grey rectangle attached to the wall at the front of planes? Yep, that is the wonderful, shitty jumpseat. Only Flight Personnel are allowed to sit on it. Even I, the daughter of a flight attendant (whose seniority goes back to 88 and is one of the most well-known/popular flight attendants of LaGuardia Airport) am no excuse to this rule.
The guy next to me that had his torso spilling over into my seat. 
I just finished watching one of my favorite shows. I downloaded a torrent of the latest episode of Switched At Birth, and Dominique wasn’t lying – it was intense. I was fighting back the tears (and failing) towards the end of the episode. I’m not ashamed of crying. Okay, well maybe I am, but not in this case. I just worried my first-time applied mascara from this morning would run. Although I wonder: what does a person do when their mascara does run but they have no mirror to check it with? Do they just cry even more?
Before I finished off the last 15 minutes of SAB, I was chillin with the flight attendants on my flight. This is one of the things I love the most about flying with my mom. I love how flight attendants take care of each other. As a result, everyone that knows her is incredibly nice to her (as she is to them), and completely take care of her when she isn’t working.
The flight attendants came by with the food cart, selling overpriced sandwiches and chips, and they swiftly swiped the credit cards of the passengers surrounding me. The only male flight attendant on the flight asked me whether I wanted anything, so I mentioned something about how I needed to talk to my mom about it first. He quickly told me they might run out and to tell him what I wanted now. So I confusedly mumbled something about the fruit and yogurt parfait and magically it appeared in my reach. He slipped in that I was fine and moseyed on down the aisle without a glance back. I soon realized it was that flight attendant magic working again. I appreciate it when it happens, I just seem to always forget about it until it happens.
I took the parfait to my mom in the jumpseat to share (and get milk pills) and she reminded me that they always take care of each other when flying. So after we enjoyed our parfait, we shared a free $5 cheese and cracker plate, with her eating the brie and daring me to have some even though she knows it’s the cheese I hate the most. I caved and tasted it, and she laughed and smiled as I sputtered and ewed after I once again decided that brie is disgusting. And then, of course, I went on to finish all of the other cheese on the plate. I couldn’t let an entire plate of my favorite indulgence go to waste, now could I?
A Typical Jumpseat:
After temporarily calming my cheese obsession, we walked to the back of the completely full 757 plane to socialize with her flight attendant homies. I thanked them for the parfait, chatted with them for a bit about jewelry, and then they started with the lingo. Growing up with a mom as a flight attendant makes you understand some of the lingo and you learn more as you get older. But about two minutes into the switch, and the separate language had me completely lost.
As I got ready to go back to my seat, a passenger came to the back of the plane with us in front of the bathroom. The attendants asked him whether he was okay. That when things changed. I heard the passenger make the slightest mention of nausea, and fled back to my seat so fast. lol I speed walked and never looked back. The whole thing kind of reminded me of when I was hanging out with soccer girls after a party. We were hanging out on the Field, when Allison randomly started with these hacking coughs. The kind where you’re unsure if they will have vomit follow. She had said she her stomach hurt and when I heard these coughs, I fled. I didn’t mean to, but I was my gut reaction. And when I say fled, I don’t mean speed walk or jog. I ran. And as I ran towards my dorm, I could hear Cynthia say something like “where the hell did Amanda go?”. I ran/yelled that I bolted cause Allison was sick. And she laugh/yelled that she wasn’t sick and that I ran for no reason. So I ashamedly walked back to the group as we all laughed together and my paranoia. I feel like that was one of the few real bonding moments that I had with them. Because as we went to the next party and laughed about Allison accidentally throwing her cell phone in the bushes, I honestly felt like we were friends, and not just teammates. And that really means a lot to me. Maybe because I don’t get a lot of moments like that.
Well, I have to pee again, unfortunately for the woman on my right at the aisle, and fortunately for the large man on my left. Once I get up, he will once again spread himself happily into my seat as well.
I can’t wait to land in San Fran. I’ll be that much closer to getting to Napa.
