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| My first legal drink--at 20! |
January 3rd was an absolutely beautiful day in the Bay Area, better than we’d had probably the entire time I was home this break. The sky was bright blue with puffy white clouds. It was the perfect goodbye to home for six months.
The day was rarely interrupted with tears (shockingly I only cried four times…I think?). Surprisingly when I dropped my sister off at school in the morning, I didn’t even get mildly teary. Usually Máire is the hardest person to say goodbye to; she was only 4 when I went away to college (she is still my “tiny” as we call her)! Anyways, as we walked up to her first grade classroom, her best friends ran up, and off she went! They were in the classroom pulling up the blinds, taking down the chairs, and then suddenly they were on the playground then back again. So when it was finally time for school to start, I gave her one giant twirly hug and kiss and we parted in laughter. As I walked out of the classroom I heard her turn to her friends and explain that I “had to go away to college in Ireland” and that’s why I was embarrassing her (imagine the sass in that small body… I have no idea where she gets it from ;) ). Saying goodbye to Patrick was definitely harder. Every time I see my baby brother he’s so much bigger and stronger and just plain more mature! Not seeing him for a couple months, I’m hoping that when I come back he’s not like the hulk or something! We dropped him off at his basketball practice early, which I hope he didn’t resent TOO much…I mean who wants to sit around their high school on their day off? Not me! The worst tears though were at the airport. My mom and I drove up to Burlingame to have lunch with my daddy and then we all drove up to SFO. They got me checked in and safely to the security checkpoint, but apparently (and I think this is highly stupid by the way) you can’t get passes to the gate unless you register as an unaccompanied minor…now do I look like a minor to you? Do I want to be walked to my gate in Amsterdam? I am 20 years old, no thank you! So at that point I gave my parents the biggest hugs I could manage and then walked into the line. They stayed there until I got all the way through the gate—every time I looked back I saw them, and every time I teared up (if one of my friends were here they would laugh, because I’m tearing up as I write this).
Now don’t get me wrong, I signed up for this. I WANT to do this in fact, I would argue that I NEED to do this. But…saying goodbye to my safe and reassuring Mommy and Daddy as I travel alone almost 6000 miles away from home just isn’t easy. It just isn’t. Anyways, security was a breeze, and I moseyed up to my gate just as boarding began. Perfect, right? Of course not, because this is me. And oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I HATE flying. HATE it. Petrified of heights, and don’t like being thousands of feet in the air, just not my thing. So you know, because KLM airlines sensed just how to nervous and emotional I would already be, there was an engine problem. The left engine to be exact. I sat at the gate, with the door open for 2 hours. Ok, ok.. I don’t want to seem too whiny, I mean the cabin crew was very nice and poor guys I think they were getting it from some passengers but still….my layover in Amsterdam? Well, it was the perfect length just 1 hour and 45 minutes; not too long, not too short, plenty of time to get to the gate. False. A girl right across the aisle heard me saying that and apparently she was going to Dublin too. You know the Freshman Feeling? That feeling you get when you don’t know anything, are embarrassed, and totally not in your element. Yeah, that’s how I felt when she looked and responded to my assurance that I’m sure they’d find us another flight, “Yeah I know, I go to school there. It’s not a problem to get a new flight…they go about every 2 hours.” Oops…my bad!
As I sat in 9E for two hours, and the airline staff attempted to fix the engine trouble, the flight crew brought around some free snacks. Quickest way to a dog, man, and Finnigan’s heart? Food. Oh yeah, they got me. I settled right down. It wasn’t high class, but Lays Potato Chips, Oreos, and Milano cookies? Perfect for a girl who’s a little scared and not feeling like a grownup. Funny story, The Dutch flight crew didn’t know what a Milano cookie was! As they passed them down, one of the male flight attendants was explaining the choices and looked at it and said…I don’t really know what kind of cookie this is. So I explained to him the beauty of the Milano cookie (don’t worry I didn’t go too in depth and act like some crazed fat kid), but it was nice, because he smiled and asked me, “So if I say ‘Milano cookie’ people will know what I mean?” A half hour after snack time the engines started up and we FINALLY pulled away from the gate. Oh yeah, and when the engines revved…of course, I was out like a light.
I woke up just in time for dinner. Ew plane food, right? Wrong! Omigosh the food on this flight was DELICIOUS. I ate a chicken and sesame noodle dish with snap peas, a yummy roll, and a piece of carrot cake (sorry Mom…the salad was questionable…). You know who made that? A UK celebrity chef…their version of a Food Network chef. His name is Daniel Green, and apparently across the pond (or I guess on my side of the pond now) he’s a big deal. Um excuse me Emeril Lagase? Bobby Flay? Mario Batale? Rachel Ray? What are you doing in your big 5 star restaurants? Clearly you should take a cue from Mr. Daniel Green and you should be servicing the US airlines. Think of it not as making unmemorable airplane food, but instead as your opportunity to make a weary traveler’s day that much better (did I mention that Daniel Green had a whole print out come with his food… talk about your free advertisement!). Honestly guys, we don’t know what we’re missing in the States when it comes to airplane food… can we impose a draft on chefs?
Before I got on the plane someone explained to me that because KLM is a Dutch airline that when I step onboard it’s like being on foreign soil. So, their laws apply. Which law in particular am I thinking about? Well I know all of my college-age friends have got it…that’s right, the drinking age is 18 in Holland. Ok, so I thought about it. I could legally order a drink. It almost seemed like my moral imperative to legally order a drink…I know my USC friends would be telling me to do so! But, I just couldn’t do it. It seemed wrong, so I asked for a Diet Coke with dinner. Then as I ate my dinner, I started to look around, two seats over from me sat a guy, clearly younger than me sipping a Heineken. Dang it, if he can, I can…I HAVE to! So after dinner I ordered my first legal drink, nothing crazy just a glass of Chardonnay…and technically guys, I was still over the United States ☺! After what I’ve decided to consider my first liberating adventure abroad, I settled down to watch a rom-com (“Life As We Know It” with Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel, about the two people who go on a blind date and hate each other and then their best friends die and leave them their one-year-old daughter Sophie). Yes I cried…stop laughing ;).
Oh, and best part of this first flight? Um the free chocolate ice cream served at midnight!
The day was rarely interrupted with tears (shockingly I only cried four times…I think?). Surprisingly when I dropped my sister off at school in the morning, I didn’t even get mildly teary. Usually Máire is the hardest person to say goodbye to; she was only 4 when I went away to college (she is still my “tiny” as we call her)! Anyways, as we walked up to her first grade classroom, her best friends ran up, and off she went! They were in the classroom pulling up the blinds, taking down the chairs, and then suddenly they were on the playground then back again. So when it was finally time for school to start, I gave her one giant twirly hug and kiss and we parted in laughter. As I walked out of the classroom I heard her turn to her friends and explain that I “had to go away to college in Ireland” and that’s why I was embarrassing her (imagine the sass in that small body… I have no idea where she gets it from ;) ). Saying goodbye to Patrick was definitely harder. Every time I see my baby brother he’s so much bigger and stronger and just plain more mature! Not seeing him for a couple months, I’m hoping that when I come back he’s not like the hulk or something! We dropped him off at his basketball practice early, which I hope he didn’t resent TOO much…I mean who wants to sit around their high school on their day off? Not me! The worst tears though were at the airport. My mom and I drove up to Burlingame to have lunch with my daddy and then we all drove up to SFO. They got me checked in and safely to the security checkpoint, but apparently (and I think this is highly stupid by the way) you can’t get passes to the gate unless you register as an unaccompanied minor…now do I look like a minor to you? Do I want to be walked to my gate in Amsterdam? I am 20 years old, no thank you! So at that point I gave my parents the biggest hugs I could manage and then walked into the line. They stayed there until I got all the way through the gate—every time I looked back I saw them, and every time I teared up (if one of my friends were here they would laugh, because I’m tearing up as I write this).
Now don’t get me wrong, I signed up for this. I WANT to do this in fact, I would argue that I NEED to do this. But…saying goodbye to my safe and reassuring Mommy and Daddy as I travel alone almost 6000 miles away from home just isn’t easy. It just isn’t. Anyways, security was a breeze, and I moseyed up to my gate just as boarding began. Perfect, right? Of course not, because this is me. And oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I HATE flying. HATE it. Petrified of heights, and don’t like being thousands of feet in the air, just not my thing. So you know, because KLM airlines sensed just how to nervous and emotional I would already be, there was an engine problem. The left engine to be exact. I sat at the gate, with the door open for 2 hours. Ok, ok.. I don’t want to seem too whiny, I mean the cabin crew was very nice and poor guys I think they were getting it from some passengers but still….my layover in Amsterdam? Well, it was the perfect length just 1 hour and 45 minutes; not too long, not too short, plenty of time to get to the gate. False. A girl right across the aisle heard me saying that and apparently she was going to Dublin too. You know the Freshman Feeling? That feeling you get when you don’t know anything, are embarrassed, and totally not in your element. Yeah, that’s how I felt when she looked and responded to my assurance that I’m sure they’d find us another flight, “Yeah I know, I go to school there. It’s not a problem to get a new flight…they go about every 2 hours.” Oops…my bad!
As I sat in 9E for two hours, and the airline staff attempted to fix the engine trouble, the flight crew brought around some free snacks. Quickest way to a dog, man, and Finnigan’s heart? Food. Oh yeah, they got me. I settled right down. It wasn’t high class, but Lays Potato Chips, Oreos, and Milano cookies? Perfect for a girl who’s a little scared and not feeling like a grownup. Funny story, The Dutch flight crew didn’t know what a Milano cookie was! As they passed them down, one of the male flight attendants was explaining the choices and looked at it and said…I don’t really know what kind of cookie this is. So I explained to him the beauty of the Milano cookie (don’t worry I didn’t go too in depth and act like some crazed fat kid), but it was nice, because he smiled and asked me, “So if I say ‘Milano cookie’ people will know what I mean?” A half hour after snack time the engines started up and we FINALLY pulled away from the gate. Oh yeah, and when the engines revved…of course, I was out like a light.
I woke up just in time for dinner. Ew plane food, right? Wrong! Omigosh the food on this flight was DELICIOUS. I ate a chicken and sesame noodle dish with snap peas, a yummy roll, and a piece of carrot cake (sorry Mom…the salad was questionable…). You know who made that? A UK celebrity chef…their version of a Food Network chef. His name is Daniel Green, and apparently across the pond (or I guess on my side of the pond now) he’s a big deal. Um excuse me Emeril Lagase? Bobby Flay? Mario Batale? Rachel Ray? What are you doing in your big 5 star restaurants? Clearly you should take a cue from Mr. Daniel Green and you should be servicing the US airlines. Think of it not as making unmemorable airplane food, but instead as your opportunity to make a weary traveler’s day that much better (did I mention that Daniel Green had a whole print out come with his food… talk about your free advertisement!). Honestly guys, we don’t know what we’re missing in the States when it comes to airplane food… can we impose a draft on chefs?
Before I got on the plane someone explained to me that because KLM is a Dutch airline that when I step onboard it’s like being on foreign soil. So, their laws apply. Which law in particular am I thinking about? Well I know all of my college-age friends have got it…that’s right, the drinking age is 18 in Holland. Ok, so I thought about it. I could legally order a drink. It almost seemed like my moral imperative to legally order a drink…I know my USC friends would be telling me to do so! But, I just couldn’t do it. It seemed wrong, so I asked for a Diet Coke with dinner. Then as I ate my dinner, I started to look around, two seats over from me sat a guy, clearly younger than me sipping a Heineken. Dang it, if he can, I can…I HAVE to! So after dinner I ordered my first legal drink, nothing crazy just a glass of Chardonnay…and technically guys, I was still over the United States ☺! After what I’ve decided to consider my first liberating adventure abroad, I settled down to watch a rom-com (“Life As We Know It” with Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel, about the two people who go on a blind date and hate each other and then their best friends die and leave them their one-year-old daughter Sophie). Yes I cried…stop laughing ;).
Oh, and best part of this first flight? Um the free chocolate ice cream served at midnight!
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