Freaky Shit

I notice things.

I notice a lot of things.

I observe. I watch. I listen. I've got big eyes..I've been programmed to do this. But, I don't do this in a nosy way, rather a curious way. I find people fascinating. I have mentioned this before, that I have a super-power...I can notice someone and within a minute I have a whole life story made up about them. Perhaps that's why I'm writing a book...

The last person that hit me was a pilot on the crew bus. We were coming back from five fabulous days in Cancun, and we rode in the crowded crew bus back to the employee parking lot at the end of a somewhat long travel day. Steve and I sat in the second to last row. Said pilot sat behind us.

He was attractive. Young. Maybe 30. Blazer, but no hat, so a regional pilot I suspect. Blond hair, neatly cut. I didn't notice stripes, but I suspect captain. Anymore, the regional FOs look like they could be my son. He was on the phone for most of the ride, talking to his kids. He was asking how they were doing, how sports were going, ect. I was curious if he was divorced or not...the conversation sort of led me into that direction, but I wasn't totally sure. And then he ended the conversation with, "well, I'll see you tomorrow," and that sealed the deal. I finished the picture of this man. Divorced. Ex-wife has the kids while he was gone, and he was going to step in the next day.

And then my mind wondered...he was probably headed back to a condo. Or perhaps a house. His house would be dark and quiet when he got in. He had the heat turned down while he was gone, making the house cold. He would walk into the door, turn on the heat, put his suitcase away, change into some lounge pants, turn on the boob tube, and dine on a bottle of beer and a Jimmy Johns sub that he got on his way home.

I've blogged about the Lonely Pilot before, and the same feelings expressed in that post connected to this cute blond pilot. I hate to think that after being on the lonely road for four days, that you would then have to go home to an equally lonely house.

Or hell, he could have been going home to find his girlfriend sprawled out on his bed in her latest Victoria's Secret purchase. There certainly wouldn't be anything lonely about that scenario.


Steve's been off for the entire month of February so far. It's been awesome. Laundry is done. I don't have to lock the house up at night. I have a warm body to cuddle with as I drift off to sleep. I've had some time to write in my book. I've been able to meet with friends for drinks. The kids have had snow days and sick days, so I didn't have to make any last-minute arrangements. We've been catching up on shows that we haven't had time to get to. Shameless. He was the one to get up in the middle of the night to address the beeping smoke detector. I could go on. Bottom line is that it's been great!

But, it also means that my schedule is off. I've been going to bed late. I've been drinking beer and wine. I wake up every morning thinking it's Friday or Saturday since...even thought Steve's schedule varies, there is still a rhythm to the week. When he's been in a cloud of days home, I can't keep track. I've been lazy (honey, can you please bring me my tea?)

My routine is off.

Eventually he'll go back to work. That means that when I finally get used to his constant presence, he will be off to work. I can almost guarantee that I won't fall asleep until late that first night...or, I'll fall asleep hard due to the fact that I've been sleep deprived. And I can almost guarantee that we will miss each other like crazy.


I am serious when it comes to sober driving. I have and will go out of my way to ensure that everyone gets to where they need to be safely.

Steve had an "investors club" meeting on Thursday (read: beer club). They wanted to patron some new craft brewery. I drove him, and three of his buddies, to and from the "meeting."

Where was I going with this? Oh, when we got home a drunk tipsy Steve was extra snugly in bed. Like, in-my-face snugly. Like, I almost got drunk myself from the fumes coming from his mouth. With him so close, pillow talk was natural.

Because he hasn't flown in forever, his beard is getting quite full. With his facial hair very present, we have both been commenting on the new patch of gray hair under his right nostril. At a quick glance it looks like snot is hanging. Nope, just gray hair.

So, as I was commenting on his gray hair, conversation then lead to aging.  As I stroked the deep lines next to his eyes, I told him that a new co-worker mention that I don't look like I'm about to turn 40 this year. What every woman wants to hear! But, I can't say the same for Steve. Steve is 43, and looks every bit of it. He'd be the first to admit this, himself. I am convinced it's because he is a pilot.

Steve and I are part of a team that put on a really fantastic fundraising event every September, which raises money for scholarships for flight students. The event is attended by a lot of pilots, and the day ends at a local bar. There is one pilot that comes year after year. I call him Cactus, because I always forget his first name. When I first talked with Cactus at the bar a couple years ago, he was quite hand-sy. I'm 6 feet tall, and Cactus is about 5'8"ish. That was his lead into our dialogue, which happens more often than I ever care for. As we were talking, he continued to be very hand-sy, arm around my waist. Extra close. Suggestive with words. I think you get the picture. We didn't talk for too long.

Fast forward an hour or so, and I was introduced to his "wife." In my beer buzz, I shook my head no. Not only was he very hand-sy with me, but his "wife" look a good 15 years younger than him. After denying his claim, and her re-affirming the claim, I shut my mouth. They were, in fact, married. Even in my beer buzz I knew well enough to just turn around and disengage before I said something stupid.

I'm getting back to the age thing with this story...bear with me. Say Cactus and his wife are both 50. Age him 5-7 years due to my pilot aging theory, and she looked to be in her early 40s. that's what gave me the 15 year age difference. Cactus is yet another example of a pilot who shows his age.

"Oh, it must be the stress," is the constant response from people when I mention my aging theory. Yeah, but that's hardly's the combination of it all: late nights, early shows, sitting for long periods of time, dehydration, shifting time zones, long days, nutrition may not be get the picture. And after the years, it shows. To me, those lines show his dedication to providing for this family, which is a beautiful thing for which I am very thankful.


Speaking of fundraisers, Steve and I had a dinner/dance/fundraiser to attend on Saturday night for the kids Polish School. We had a really nice time, as is the case every year. This year we decided to get a hotel. I had miles that were expiring in a short month, and figured we would put them to good use.

I like to think that when Steve and I stay at a hotel together, I am making hotels fun for him again. Night after night, week after week, he is alone in his hotel room. Work out, shower, eat dinner, iron uniform, sleep, shower, hotel van - wash, rinse, repeat.

But, add me into the mix and things change up a bit.

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Since there is drinking at the event, I made a point to some friends that they were welcome to stay in our room if they needed, again I am very much for sober driving, but no freaky shit would be allowed.  This blog post title is dedicated to them.

Turns out they didn't need us, after all. Steve and I called it a night around midnight, and they stayed out until 3am! My body thanked me in the morning when I woke up without a hangover.


I hope everyone has a nice weekend. For once, we have NOTHING planned. I can't wait.