Virgin America - Part II

As I mentioned in the post below, I missed my Jet Blue flight to LA yesterday because I got stuck in traffic. It took about two hours to get to JFK and I arrived at the airport about ten minutes before my flight left. Since it was the last flight to LA of the day, the kind folks at Jet Blue credited me back the cost of the flight (thank you, Jet Blue!) and I ended up hopping on a Virgin America one.

I was kind of excited to check out Virgina America because I've heard a lot about the planes. The cabin inside was waaaay cool, very modern and stylish, kind of like an Ian Schrager hotel. Here's a photo that I took:



It's a little blurry because I wanted to capture the lighting and didn't have the flash on, but it should give you an idea of what it looked like. Here's another pic that I took from Virgina America's website:



Pink and blue lights illuminated the cabin, the seats were black leather with white high-gloss plastic backs, and futuristic-sounding music echoed throug the plane while we boarded and taxied to the runway. The whole mood was so cool that I half expected a disco ball to drop from the ceiling or the flight attendants to start passing out hits of ecstasy, but they didn't. (Thank God... could you imagine?)

Virgin America was a little like Jet Blue in that each passenger gets their own TV, but VA had less channels to watch than JB. Like I couldn't watch any of the major network channels, but I could watch Bravo, E!, CNN, and some others. They did have episodes of what they called "Premium TV Shows" like The Office and Lost, but you had to pay $2 for each of them, which is a little steep to watch something I've probably already seen. The TVs also had movies you could watch, but they were $8 each, which I again thought was a little pricey. What do they cost on Jet Blue? Does anyone know?

In addition to this you could listen to music, play video games, and IM with people in other seats. That's pretty cool. (But also a little scary post 9/11.)

Re: food & drinks... The flight attendants didn't go up and down the aisles and ask you if you'd like something to drink like they do on most commercial flights. Instead, if you want something to drink or eat, you order it from the TV in front of you, and then they bring it to you.

Speaking of the flight attendants, considering the plane was so hip, I expected them to have cool uniforms, but they didn't. Like, did you know that Emilio Pucci designed flight attendant uniforms for Braniff Airlines in the 60s? Here they are:



Virgin America needs to hire a hip designer and get those ladies and men dressed up to complete the experience. (For more super-cool flight attendant outfits, click here.)

Andie... You said you were considering flying Virgin Atlantic in the spring. I'm not sure if they have the same planes or amenities as Virgin America, so you might want to look into that. I'd give it a try though, I have no complaints.

Also, someone also recently asked how Beverly flies. She gets to go with me in the cabin. If the flight is full, she has to stay in her bag under the seat in front of me. If it's not, the flight attendant usually lets me belt her in to the seat next to me, like this:



She's incredibly well-behaved on flights and sleeps most of the time. I make sure she goes potty before we leave so she doesn't have an accident.

So all in all, Virgin America is stylistically superior to any other airline out there, but I think Jet Blue has better entertainment options (for a more affordable price.) Because the prices are similar, if I had to choose between the two, I'd choose Jet Blue. Virgin America didn't do anything wrong (aside from overcharging for TV & movies), but since Jet Blue credited me back the cost of my missed flight (they didn't have to) they win in my book.

Virgin America

I missed my Jet Blue flight so I'm on a Virgin America flight.

It's coooool, all blue and pink. I feel like I'm on a spaceship.

I took pictures. I'll post them when I get to LA.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Going To LA

A few things before I leave for LA...

1. Elvis' cat sitter came over last night. It's Chris the songwriter.
2. I just took out my own stitches. My braveness knows no boundaries.
3. I woke up with a slight head/chest cold this morning. I'm hoping the California sun will clear it up.
4. Beverly smells and needs a bath.
5. I'm flying Jet Blue for the second time. If they seat me next to a 400-pound woman again, I'm going to cough on them.
   
6. I got these pictures of my niece and nephew on my birthday and they were the best gift ever. (Nora was misbehaving. Can you tell?)

(↑ Nora puts her finger in her nose because she knows it makes my sister angry. Even when she's not planning on picking it, she just puts her finger up there, looks at my sister, and waits for her to react.)

I'll talk to you from LA!

Autumn In New York

It's almost October and it's 85 degrees outside. The forecast for tomorrow is 86.

I hate this weather. It's way too hot out for this time of year. I want fall.

Elvis' Cat Sitter Chris

I'm meeting with Elvis' new cat sitter tomorrow, a guy named Chris. There are two Chrises on Mobile Mutts website and I'm not sure which one it is. The first Chris is a songwriter and the second Chris enjoys drawing.

There better be either a song or drawing of Elvis waiting for me when I get back from LA. I hope that's not too much to expect.

It's My Birthday!

Exactly thir- twenty-nine years ago today, my mother gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, a lovely person you've come to know as... me.

To celebrate this joyous occasion, I've filled my day with a plenitude of activities, some of which I'd like to share with you.

The first thing I'm going to do today is... laundry! After that, I'm going to... call a cat sitter! Once those two things are completed, I might... vacuum! Finally, if I still have any energy left after all that, I'm going to go to dinner with my friends.

Thank you for your birthday wishes!

PS - Sorry about the above graphic ↑, Mom, but I thought it was funny.

We Are Like Chicken

My friend Sam had a birthday party last night and I used the opportunity to brag about my Oktoberfest war wound. I'm proud of it—is that weird?

I was telling someone how I saw flesh during the big accident and it wasn't what I expected. I expected us to be pink inside, a little like beef, but we're more like chicken, kinda white and fibrous.

Yeah, this is gross, I know.

Having seen the inside now, I have to wonder. Since we're not poultry, what are we? Are we more like pork?


PS - Please drop by Sam's blog and wish him a happy birthday. He's 30 now, a real man.

PPS - Just so you know, Sam's girlfriend Kristina has nothing to do with that gross website he mentions in his most recent post. Poor Kristina... I would never tolerate the abuse.

Ernie & Bert Do Pesci & Deniro

This is funny!

(Funny how? Funny like I'm a clown? I amuse you? I make you laugh? I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?)

Yellow Polka Dot Bikini

I'm going to LA next week and staying for ten days. Yay! I love going to LA. I stay with my friends Mark and David when I'm there and they have the most beautiful house. I feel like I'm at a resort.

This technically isn't a vacay—I'll be working while I'm there—but Bev has been trying her bikini on, getting ready for the pool.


Elvis has been sitting on the couch, silently cursing me for leaving him with a cat sitter. He doesn't travel well. I can't bring him. Besides, he needs to man the apartment, keep the critters out. Hmm... maybe one of my friends will stay here so he won't have to be alone.

I've going to be a busy traveling bee in the next few months. LA this month, Florida in November, and the Caribbean in February. Go Karyn, Go.

Angie's Magic Number Is 4

Saint Angie just told Cosmo that her magic number is 4. I wouldn't really care about this except for the fact that I wrote a book about numbers.

I love it when sexpot celebrities share their numbers with the press. (Another example, Paris Hilton.) I mean, are reporters asking about this? I can't imagine anyone saying, "So tell me... how many men have you slept with?" Why are these ladies volunteering the information?

What I'd really kill for is for someone to come out and say they've slept with like thirty dudes. That'd be fabulous.

Anyway, back to Angie... Rather than quoting the original story source here, I'm going to quote Michael K. from Dlisted because he's so. damn. funny.

Angelina Jolie told Cosmopolitan that she's only fucked 4 dudes in her entire life and married two of them. The 4 dudes are Brad Pitt, Billy Bob Thornton, Johnny Lee Miller and some other dude. I'm guessing her brother.

It's okay to stretch the truth a little, but 4?!!!! We all know that vagina has been around.

PS - I have a love/hate relationship with most gossip websites, but Dlisted is hilarious and Michael K. posts more than just gossip so I don't feel so guilty reading it. If you don't read Dlisted, check it out!

Suits, Ties, Heels & Hose

I'm on a train right now, on my way home from my sister's house. My brother-in-law dropped me off at the station in Greenwich, CT because he had business near there. Greenwich is only a 45 minute train ride to NYC so there are a lot of commuters on the train.

As I look at myself in yoga pants, sneakers, and a hoodie seated amongst the suits, tie, hose and heels, I realize how removed I've become from the professional work force. It's been five years since I've had a day job and I'm okay with that. Everyone looks so uncomfortable... you couldn't pay me enough to go back to that world.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Oktoberfest War Wounds

I'm typing this with nine fingers.

My sister and brother-in-law had a big Oktoberfest party last night. While I came out of it fine, I did some damage during clean-up today and ended up in the emergency room.

Here are the girls and me last night...

Prost!

And here's me today, five stitches, a tetanus shot, and a finger splint later...

Hurting Girl

Ouch.

Okay, this is what happened. WARNING... if you get grossed out easily, stop reading.

So I was slightly hungover (too much Spaten), standing on a ladder with a pair of scissors in my hand. Not a good thing to do for the klutzy. I was attempting to cut a plastic fastener like this...


...off of a pole. The tie was a bit too thick to be cut with scissors, but I thought if I squeezed them together really hard I could get through it. Holding the scissors in my right hand and the plastic tie in my left, I did just that and squeezed and squeezed and then SNIP! I cut through the tie and removed a chunk of flesh from my finger right above the knuckle in the process.

The wound was pretty gross. My sister pretty much freaked out when she saw it, but I stayed surprisingly calm. My flesh looked like a chicken cutlet and I swear I could see the bone. Blech!!! But it didn't really hurt, it was just gross to look at. After the two of us cleaned it up, we wrapped my finger in gauze and then taped it to an emery board to it to keep it from bending. I then went back to cleaning. I swear. For a good hour, at least. But my finger wouldn't stop bleeding, so we thought it was best to go to the ER to have someone take a look at it just in case.

I ended up getting five stitches and I need to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow. Seriously. My official diagnosis is that I had an "elliptical-shaped soft tissue avulsion that had to be undermined."

Re: the "undermined" part... basically, the ER surgeon had to remove more flesh from inside the wound using a scalpel so he could bring the top edges of it together in a clean manner. So let's say that the wound looked like a "U" from the side. The doctor needed to make it look like a "V" so the top two edges could meet and be stitched without too much flesh between them. Does that make sense?

And re: the plastic surgeon... Because it's such a wide wound, bringing it together caused the skin on the opposite side of my knuckle to bunch up, making my finger looked deformed. The ER doctor said a plastic surgeon might want to make another incision across that side of my knuckle and remove the extra flesh so it matches the other side.

Yuck, yuck, yuck. It's all so gross. But get this... I didn't cry, whine or complain once during this entire ordeal, not even during my tetanus shot. I am so brave.

In case you're wondering, no, I'm not German. (Or I'm barely German—my Grandma was 1/2 German, so I'm 1/8, if anything.) My brother-in-law is German, however, and is going to be making this party an annual event. I'm going to tell everyone that I cut my finger by slamming down my beer stein because I think that's cool.

I'll keep you posted on the plastic surgeon.

Old Lady Shoes

My friend Naomi really wants me to get a pair of old-lady orthopedic shoes.

They're hot, huh?

Previously: My Left Foot

Some Things Aren't Meant To Be Shared

This morning my friend Lucy at Starbucks asked how I was doing, so I told her that I had a horrible sinus/allergy headache. (It's a gorgeous day today in NYC—GORGEOUS—and sometimes gorgeous days make me sneezy.) Upon hearing about this, another guy who works there (with whom I'm also friendly) goes, "Hey, I have a really great nasal spray if you wanna borrow it."

Okay, um... I'm pretty sure nasal spray isn't something you share with people. I mean, it goes into an orifice of your body. A wet one.

As soon as the guy offered it to me I think he realized how strange it was (either that or else he noticed the horrified look on my face) because he then gave me a funny look and was like, "It's kinda gross that I just offered that to you, isn't it?" I was like, "Um, yeah... just a little bit."

Some things just aren't meant to be shared.

Oprah

Oh Oprah... I love you and hate you for making me cry during your show today, The Children of September 11th. Is anyone else watching?

Only His Hairdresser Knows For Sure

Osama Bin Laden three years ago and now...


People are speculating that he may have dyed his beard to appeal to younger jihadis. If this is the case, I personally think he should've gone with a little Manic Panic:


But since he didn't, let's guess the shade he did go with for a little fun.

What hair color shade is Osama's best match?

Vote below!

PS - He SO isn't worth it.

In Remembrance

My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who lost loved ones on 9/11/01.

My Left Foot

So how old do I feel right now? I had to see a podiatrist today. Yes, for the last eight months I've had an intense pain in my left heel and it won't go away. I'm not sure exactly what initially caused it, but I'm pretty sure it was these Michael Kors boots that I wore every day last winter:


They're cute, right? And they were actually comfortable, too, which is why I didn't expect them to ruin my feet. But I'm pretty sure they did.

Now, what would you expect to happen at the foot doctor? An examination? An X-Ray? That's what I expected. What I didn't expect was for the doctor pull out a two-inch needle and give me a shot in the foot, but that's what ended up happening.

A little background... I'm terrified of needles. TERRIFIED. Like I have a major phobia about them and have since I've been a little girl. (It all stems from having my tonsils out; a story for another time.) Because of this, I kinda freaked out upon seeing the needle, so the doctor called in an assistant to help me through the whole ordeal.

So a girl came in the room... she was young, nice... she stood next to me and let me hold her hands. I was a little relieved by her presence but still somewhat scared, so I buried my head in the crook of my arm which just happened to be resting over hers.

When the doctor began, I closed my eyes and held my breath. He told me it was going to be quick and painless but it sooooooo wasn't, so I'm completely tensed up and froze. The next thing you know, my mouth opened slightly and I began DROOLING on the girl's arm. Seriously. And the worst part of it was that I didn't wipe it off right away because the needle was still in my foot, so I was still afraid to move.

When the doctor (finally) finished, I apologized to the poor girl and wiped off her arm. She was really nice about everything and didn't seem too grossed out. (She works in a foot doctor's office, I'm sure she's experienced worse things than me drooling on her arm.)

Anyway, come to find out, I have a spur on my left heel or "plantar fasciitis." To correct it I have to get custom orthotics made. Thankfully my insurance covers them because they're like $400. I also have to sleep in a terrible contraption called a "night splint." If I wear these two things this thing should go away. For my sake and the sake of the poor girl's arm at the doctor's office, I hope it does.

Live From My Neighborhood

Gawker went live from 11201 to get reactions from people about the Heath Ledger & Michelle Williams split. This is where I live. Please meet my neighborhood.

Boerum Hill Comes To Terms With Heathchelle Split

Britney Let Me Down... But My Mom Didn't

I'm watching the VMAs on MTV right now, as is my mother. I told her to tune in for Britney's big "comeback," which ended up to be a huge disappointment. Bitch didn't bring it at all. My mom, on the other hand, did.

I thought she'd tune out after Britney performed, but she called me during the first commercial break, right after seeing Kanye sing...

"I didn't understand a thing he said," she said.
"Who?" I asked.
"That Conway Twitty guy."
"It's Kanye."
"Whatever. I don't know who any of these people are. The only people I recognize are Beyonce and Justin Timberland."
"Timberlake."
"That's what I said. Where are all the normal people, like Cher?"
"I don't think Cher's making an appearance this year. "
"Well, she's still very relevant. She's taking over for Celine Dion when she leaves Vegas."
"I didn't know that."
"Now you do."

A little later, on Adam Levine...

"Do you know who he is, Mom?" I asked.
"No."
"He's the lead singer for a band called Maroon 5. He's supposedly a big playboy and gets into everyone's pants."
This surprised my mom. "He does?"
"Yep."
"Well, he's not getting into mine."

Ha ha... I love her.

PS - How good did Dr. Dre look? Has he always been this cut?



PPS - International readers... I don't think MTV is letting you watch the video of Brit's performance. (Some copyright thing.) Here's another link to it.

I Wanna Be A Rock Star

My dad retired to Arizona a few years ago and, to keep himself busy, got a job working security at a stadium in Phoenix. In addition to working sporting events, he gets to work during concerts as well and it's always funny to hear his take on these. (After a Rolling Stones concert, for example, his big observation was... "That Mick Jagger sure has a lot of energy.")

About a month ago he told me about a big "acid rock" band that was coming called "Nickelodeon." (Nickelback.) I'm not a big fan of acid rock or Nickelback, for that matter, but I love the video for their new song "Rockstar."

This is definitely one of those songs that you like more after seeing the video.

BTW... who says "acid rock" anymore?

Sneezing Panda

I love this.

50 Cent Vs. Kanye

So these two jokers have albums coming out on the same day and are challenging each other as to who's going to sell more copies. (You probably didn't need the recap, but my mom's been reading this blog—say hi to her!—and she will.) If I had to choose between them and say who I hope sells more, I'd go Fiddy all the way. Not because I necessarily like his music more than Kanye's, but he was a crack dealer and crack dealers are cool.

I'm kidding. Drugs aren't funny. Well, maybe mild ones are... but not crack. You know what else isn't funny? Meth. If there are any little kids reading this blog (God, I hope there aren't), don't ever do meth. It's what I call a "dumb drug", like it will literally cause brain damage and make you retarded. I'm not joking—you will become retarded if you start doing meth. And your teeth will probably fall out, too. And you might even scratch your face off. Listen kiddies, if you need speed, be smart and stick with cocaine like everyone else.

Oh my Gosh, I'm kidding again. My mother's gonna be horrified... I'm sorry, Mom! I'm just a little slap-happy this morning, that's all. Too much coffee, because caffeine is my drug of choice. See? You raised me well.

Back to 50 Cent... he didn't sell drugs on purpose, he was a victim of circumstance. I saw his movie. His mom was killed when he was 6 or 8 or something and he just fell into it, you know? It happens. The important thing is that he doesn't sell them any more, he just sings about it. Seriously though, I love him and his slur. (He got shot, Mom, like eight times by another drug dealer and it caused him to have a slur.) I also like Kanye, though, and especially love that new song of his, "Now that that don't kill me, can only make me stronger..." It's very inspirational. But I'm still sticking with 50.

The Trouble With Trouble

It seems that no one wants poor little Trouble. (Apparently, she's a biter.)

Since I have a weakness for unwanted animals,* I'd like to volunteer to take Trouble (and the $12 million that comes along with her.)

*The story of Eva the Yorkie in 20 Times a Lady is the true story of how I got Beverly. She was on sale at a pet store because she was "older" than all the other pups there. (Yes, I bought a dog at a pet store, I know it's wrong, save your hate mail.) She wasn't even on display with the other dogs, but was kept downstairs all alone, by herself. The only reason I even knew she was there was because I asked if they had any girl Yorkies and a worker there was like, "Yeah... but she's downstairs. No one wants to buy her because she's older. Do you want to see her?" I was like, "Um... yeah." For the record, she was 4 months old. Here she is on her first day home:

How could no one want that?

The Cute Electricians

Why does this happen to me?

Something's wrong with my electricity so my landlord had to hire an electrician to come over and fix it. He usually hires the biggest schmos off the street to fix things or sends someone up from his butcher shop, but this time he hired two young, cute electricians who happen to work for the fire department AND I HAVEN'T SHOWERED ALL DAY AND I'M STILL IN MY PAJAMAS.

Why?

UPDATE: One of them is getting married on Saturday and the other one is his best man. I don't know if the best man is single or not. Maybe I should just get naked while I wait for them to finish and see if he bites. (Bites? That didn't sound right...)