I'm back! part I: The Flight There

I'm back from my 4-week holiday, so I've now got free access to the Net 24/7, and can start posting regularly again. I thought I'd be posting semi-regularly at least while I was away, but there was so much to do every day that I feel like I need a holiday now from my holiday.

There's so much to write about the 4 weeks, so much that I thought of and so much that happened, that I'm not sure that I'll get it all down in this Blog. I will try my best though, because it's my way of organising my thoughts and feelings, as well as having a record of my experiences - and I'd like to record every significant event during this trying but extremely positive period.

Getting to the airport was a pain, since everyone I knew with a car was at work at the time I had to get to the airport, and I'm not the sort to let someone take the day off work to drive me the short distance. Cheapskate that I am, I'd decided to take the train into the airport, not thinking through the fact that I was carrying 4 massive canvases that were not too heavy but fucking unwieldy to carry. Carrying my backpack (hand luggage) and duffel bag (luggage) as well, I struggled to get even halfway to the train station, and no taxis were around (the damn canvases wouldn't even have fit into a cab had one passed by). A nice woman with a hint of an Irish accent came to the rescue and helped me carry the thing to the railway. It wasn't easy even with the 2 of us holding an end each, and I the woman will forever have my gratitude. I'm used to being the one doing the helping and not the one being helped, so I wasn't exactly totally comfortable with the role reversal.

I was pouring with sweat by the time I got the the airport, so it was a good thing that I'd brought my clothes for the flight instead of wearing them. I'd arrived early, and so had plenty of time for a shower in the lounge, changing into a black shirt and jacket. The duty free provided a change from my usual selection of eau de toilette and perfumes. Riding high on my recent coming-to-terms with my gender identity, I felt brave enough to sample the men's ranges and settled on one that I liked enough to spritz myself with, but not enough to actually buy.

As a sidenote, I've only got 1 men's fragrance at home, Bvlgari Blv pour Homme. The rest are more neutral fragrances like Hugo Boss' Hugo Woman and Ralph Lauren's Polo Sport Woman and Romance. One of the things I'd like to do is finish off these women's fragrances and start replacing them with men's.

The flight was very pleasant, and the young Boshnjak sitting next to me provided some good conversation. I usually don't drink much on flights, firstly because of the dehydration and secondly because I'd like to have my senses with me in case of emergency, but I'd decided after the struggle to get to the airport and with the upcoming visit home that I'd take advantage of the inflight bar this time. Now, I hold my drink a little too well, which means that a night out anywhere is expensive if I want even a tiny buzz, so a free open bar is always a welcome occasion.

Just after the plane took off though, while I was rooting through the pocket on the seat in front of me, a little blonde flight attendant rushed past and got herself elbowed on the hip bone. Now, I felt the collision on my elbow, so I can only imagine how much her hip hurt. She doubled over and I immediately got up and asked if she was alright. Her eyes welled with tears, she took a while to compose herself, but eventually got a smile on her face and said that she'd be alright. The next time she came by was with the drinks cart, and I asked if she'd been able to get some ice on where she'd been elbowed. She said she'd had, but only for a short while, and we both commented on the fact that she'd have a rather big bruise.

On the upside, she was very attentive after that. She'd stop to ask if I wanted anything whenever she came by, and would always smile if she was in more of a hurry. I'd asked for a Scotch (whisky) and Coke (yes, the cola) just before asking after her that first time she'd come by with the drinks cart, and she'd given me a standard drink as expected. What was unexpected was that after said little chat (while she was serving the rest of my row), she asked if the drink was alright and if I'd like a little extra scotch in it. I sure did, and every drink she brought me after that was most definitely a double (except for the scotch and apple juice I had with "breakfast". Even then she'd asked if she'd been right in making the drink more "breakfast"-friendly and had the bottle ready for a top-up).

There was a point to this little story by the way, which will come into play in a later post. In the meantime, I'll get started on my next post. So much to write, and I hope I remember everything!

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