Our friend J. came to visit us the other day. She was standing in O'Hare and decided that because the subway ride back to her apartment was too daunting, she would fly to DC. She's a flight attendant and she can do that. And I am ever, ever so jealous. I mean seriously.
Can I imagine myself wearing a navy blue blazer and pushing a drinks cart? In a word, no. But still... the freedom.
2 comments:
Did Foxymoron get to weigh her boob this time?
artjewtino! Unless you want to find yourself in a reenactment of that scene in Cry Baby, don't you be calling my J Foxymoron!
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