Business Class & Home Sweet Home

I got in business class which should be renamed “Not for my fat ass class” But let me say that Schipohl Airport fucking rocks. Bee-bopped right in, nobody screaming at me, didn’t have to take my shoes off in security or put shit in plastic bags. My lip gloss was safe, my mascara was never suspected of concealing a weapon of mass destruction and everyone was nice to me. I got called to board with the rest of the Biz class not the last one on the plane like some reject, you know: the last girl called.

I finally realized why the flight going over bugged me so much. It reminded me of when I was in junior high and the athletic girls were picking girls for kickball teams in gym. ALWAYS THE LAST ONE PICKED! Excuse me while I go curl up in the fetal position back in the flight attendant’s section…excuse me, I digress…

Anway, I get in my seat which fits me suspiciously like a glove… an ass & thigh glove… then I slowly groped under my ass for the seat belts. I knew what was coming – I hadn’t had a true “You a fat bitch moment” slap me in the face like this in a minute.

Hell no the seat belt didn’t fit. It was just about two inches from snapping. And God Knows I tried to make it work. I pulled and pulled so hard. Then I just put my sweater down over my unbuckled seat and hoped for the best. I mean if the plane goes down they will be too busy searching for the black box right? They won’t report that “there is evidence that one passenger : Lynne Jordan evidently was too fat to buckle her seatbelt thus was thrown far into the swamp….when the plane crash landed…” Right? Still I wonder.

Actually, my bulk was a bit of a hindrance the entire trip. Amsterdam is known for many things – besides the soft drug tolerance and legal prostitution. It is known for steep steep narrow stairs and narrow doorways… Hello, what are big fat bitches known for? Fat bitches don’t do well in narrow steep stairways or narrow doorways…

All jokes aside, I felt like I was steering a huge ocean liner throughout dead man’s cove every minute I rose from a dining table or went down the stairs but hey… at least I am charming and made quite a few men friends along the way.

Which reminds me: Don’t get me started about DUTCH MEN!!! Now y’all know I likes ‘em young – that is I did like ‘em young till I met about a half dozen middle aged hot sexy Dutchmen… They brought sexy back… OKAY!! I fell in love three times in one week!! Whoo hoo! Those slightly long haired, leather-man-bag wearing sexy accented, sarcastic, hip, sexy muthafuckas!! Did I mention that I am moving to Amsterdam? That is my new motivation for writing and making my one woman show a hit. I want to be able to live well in Amsterdam – at least part time. It was always love a first sight with me and this city…

Did I mention that I am sitting next to Goldmember from the Austin Powers series? Seriously! He’s not picking skin off and eating it, but he is a cross between Red Buttons (kids look him up ) & George W. He’s been sleeping since the minute we took off. That’s cool. I am so full from the multi course meal we were served. And these flight attendants are running like fools around here. I’ve had three glass of really nice champagne, red wine and port…yeah baby!! I LOVE BIZness class. A special shout out to my cu’in!! Thank you cuz! This is da bomb! I am drunk.

LOVE MY MAC BOOK PRO. I got this power adapter that plugs into my seat..(only in business so I am powered up for the entire flight…) Yeah!!

Please, enjoy some graffiti photos and canals at night…

I am home now. No more canals or 400 year old picturesque buildings. I am sitting in a taxi inching along the main streets towards my house in the building blizzard.

Now I am looking at Chicago bungalows and fast food joints. Oh well. Home Sweet Home. I’m not mad. I love Chicago too. Sigh… Amsterdam…