Mood:
chillin'Topic: planet Miss O
somewhere between ORD and NRT ...
Well, Darlings, it's as good a place to start as any. Where the in the world has Miss O been for the past five (ok, six) months? I'll give you a few guesses:
A. in the witness protection program
B. held hostage by a vegan cult...in Cambridge
C. leaping over continents in a single bound
D. a guest of the Sultan of Brunei
E. training with the Navy Seals
F. trapped under a mountain of shoes
G. birthing coach for Brangelina
In fact, I have been trying to keep up with the vicissitudes of life on Planet Miss O. (Thank you, Mr. Smith 10th grade English for "vicissitudes") Comings, goings, entrances, exits, unions, separations, reunions - sometimes it's hard to catch one's breath.
My travel schedule is more "ambitious" than ever. By ambitious, I mean, of course, ridiculous and ill-advised. True, there are times when I find myself wondering why I do it. These moments of reflection typically occur when I am in the interminable security line at Terminal E, Logan. Or dragging my overstuffed bags through the metro in Paris. Or running through Heathrow in four-inch heels. The answer, Darlings, is that there are people to see and places to go. The world is our oyster!
So what has this year's globe-trotting taught me? The flight attendants on JAL are all Hello Kitty-adorable Shiseido porcelain perfect. The flight attendants on Icelandair all look like Victoria Secret models...even the old ones. The flight attendants on U.S. carriers all look like housewives from Columbus. (This is not a dis of housewives, nor Columbus, simply a journalistic observation.) On British Airways, they serve something called fish pie. It's not as good as it sounds. More booze is served on Qantas flights than...
Speaking of, here comes the beverage cart! Hard to believe, but I don't usually partake while flying...unless there's some good champagne being splashed around a la First Class. Today I may be tempted by a frosty Sapporo or an ice-cold Kirin or both. You know, when in Rome, when on JAL, etc. Ooh, green tea. Good idea, load up on anti-oxidants before getting loaded.
Ok, let's see what's on the headset (No, Miss O does not own a personal high-tech listening device, I believe they're called ipods on your planet, but would be delighted to receive one from a generous benefactor/Swiss banking tycoon.) Channel 4: James Brown?! Wow, cool. Channel 5: Wham! Fabulous. I have been on a Wham!-fest since seeing George Michael in concert two weeks ago. It was life-changing, people. There was shrieking, jumping up and down, fist-pumping, high-five-ing. It was a three-hour dance party. At one point I was on the verge of tears, at another, I almost peed my pants. I felt like I was on coke. Not that Miss O would ever touch filthy narcotics. At least not since the age of 16. And I never inhaled.
Where was I? Oh yes, George. I am convinced that concert added ten years to my life. Next channel: someone speaking Japanese. Maybe I can make out a few words. Wait. Yes, I'm sure the announcer just said "Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto". I bet you didn't know that Miss O spoke Japanese. Neither did I. Next channel: Beethoven Violin Something. Lovely. And, next: is that Bryn Terfel?! Lourdes, JAL is hip. I haven't even gotten to the Japanese pop station yet.
Uh-oh, here comes Miss Hello Kitty, telling me to stow my tray-table. Ok, Darlings, the seal has been broken. Miss O is back on the airwaves!
