Poo in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco 

Shannon in San Fran Taxi on our very tired arrival from the East Coast 

No Work

Okay kids, it's getting kind of ridiculous. I haven't worked in well over a month. And it's not even my fault! For the first few weeks it felt deliciously naughty but now I am not sure I even remember how to. I have watched the entire first season of Alias in about 4 days. I am becoming one with the couch. I often don't separate from my pajamas. They smell. Ross is generally impervious to oder and even he told me I need a shower. That is saying something. I have eaten my cupboards bare and taken to cooking weird creations of barley and tomato and tofu just to avoid having to go to the grocery store. I'm hungry.

Enough is enough! I am showering today! I will do the dishes and fold the laundry. I will be productive! Oh wait! I hear the phone...Who is it? It's the library. Oh, Alias season two has arrived and is ready to be picked up by me? Right now? Oh dear, what to do. Okay, I'll still do all of that other crap...well maybe later. I'll just watch one little epsiode of Alias...

Jeff Tweedy is my God

Jeff Tweedy is my god! Well one of them anyways. Monotheism is so 20th century. Pantheism is the new black for those that follow the fads. I digress. As Shannon and I were last seem hopping of a slowly moving train in our frenzied attempt to not leave San Francisco without witnessing the experience that is a Jeff Tweedy solo acoustic show, you damn well know we made it in. Despite it being sold out. And did we pay the 100 bucks for tickets that the scalpers demanded? Hell no. I refuse to to be raped for music. We made friends with a lovely door security man and he simply walked us in. Mr. Door security man, if you're out there and you are reading this, I LOVE YOU. And I owe you a beer. A very nice, very large and very happy beer. Good Karma to you forever and ever!

I am pretty sure that all of this occurred because Shannon and I gave the nice homeless man money for a subway sandwich. So go out find your local Subway and find your local homeless man woman or child and buy them a sandwich. You will have a very pleasant day. I promise.

It's all over now

Hello kids. After a grueling nine days the strike is over. And unfortunately I did not managed to get layed off. BUt as it was a at one point a viable option I opted on a celebratory girls weekend in San Francisco. Now about a week has passed and I just can't seem to leave. I made it as far as the train to the airport. I made it on the train and about halfway there. But that is as far as my weary, wanton legs would bring me. I turned around. And here I am. Still in San Francisco. There are many pictures. Not all of them are for the weak. I'll post them soon. You know, when I actually do make it back to NY. Be well my friends.

SPAMALOT

GO SEE SPAMALOT!!! It's on Broadway and it's ridiculous. I laughed I cried. I nearly peed. Ross's 30th birthday is Valentines day. What in the hell should we do? I suck at this stuff. And he's no help.

I haven't worked in ages and I am enjoying that. With a little luck I have no plans to work until the 15th or so. Be jealous. Life is good.

Asleep in Milan Airport on a 5 hr layover

 

Long Layover in Bahrain

 

WHen the Rain Attacks

Walking in the rain. There goes a car. I'm all wet! #$%@! 

I'm the Dancing Queen in Frankfurt

 

We are off to See Rent in Frankfurt

 

Death By Jet Lag

Is it possible to die of acute jetlag? Let me tell you there is nothing remotely cute about this jet lag. Yes, I worked all night. I have been awake for 28hrs and counting. I think that my eyeballs are bleeding. I've lost all power of speech.

And now a haiku:

Rest for the weary
Running on euphoria
Please bring me a beer

p.s. Does anyone know how to say "culinary" in sign language? As in 'Culinary' Abortion? That's my latest descriptive phrase to describe airplane cuisine to any passengers that may happen to inquire.

Isn't family Special? Me and the monster in NYC on December 23, 2005 

Me and the Baby Monster 

Baby Monster!!!! Don't be fooled buy those pretty eyes! 

Christmas Ross! 

I should have known better than to buy a baby a "Diva" costume. I guess she fancies herself an actress. 

Shane(ny nephew one of the fart tornado kids) and a really big box! 

Nothing says Christmas quite like waking up to a pool of baby pee. This picture is of peanut (my niece) and I tyring to the blowdry the mattress on my pull out couch Christmas morning. 

Thanksgiving with the girls. 

Ross tskes multi tasking to a new, truly horrifying level as he shows that one can pee and make dinner at the same time. Yes, lovelies, he is cooking fish in a rotisserie in our bathroom. It is somehow the only room that has a vent. 

West Point Military Academy in Novermber as seen from across the strret from where I live. 

The clan (aka. Ross, Daddy, Me, Gab, Tim and Bob aka Ross,s dad) on a lovely November day. 

Storm King Gap on the Hudson River  

Sign language and flight attendants

Happy holidays my friends. We are another year older and damn fine looking if I do say so. I am in Ireland having spent the better part of the crossing teaching flight crew to curse at one another in sign language. I feel that I am doing the company a service as at it seems far more professional to having them cursing silently iat one another nstead of the typical audible potty mouth that most aircraft galleys contain in excess. I'd teach them to say nice things, but I really don't know any. Each gives what they are able. And it seems my abilities include and are dismally limited to a truly sailoresque vocabularly. Does that make me multi lingual?

Tomorrow I am off to parts unknown with a quick stopover in Dublin: Home of the Fairy Investigation Society. Yes, the Fairy Investigation Society. Hm.

Christmas with the fart tornado kids!

God help me! I have invited my teenage niece and nephew and there 5yr old pre- klittle sister over for Christmas sans mama. What in the name of all that is holy does one do to amuse them. These are the children of the infamous fart tornado.

For more info on the infamous liafe changing 'fart tornado' and it's creators please see Birthcontrol: a chronical from their last visit this past July.

Please, God, give Ross the serenity to not commit relativacide, give princess (crazy mutt) the disinterest to keep her from gnawing on the 5yr old, and give me the ability to entertain them all.

Kuwait Taxi Stand

Don't we all just feel happy, now! THis is where all nice Kuwaiti taxi cabs go to find true happiness.

Wine in Ireland and Villas in Kuwait

Is it a crime to drink wine in Ireland instead of the beer? I never thought so. I am back in lovely Ennis and you would think that I had two heads. Or maybe I am just seeing double from all of the lovely wine.

My time in Kuwait was fabulous. Instead of the typical nice hotel room I shared a furnished 4 bedroom oceanside villa with my good chum Shannon. We had dinner on the oceanfront terrace and watched movies on our huge plasma TV. Sometimes it's good to be a queen. Sometimes this job just rocks.

Ah Sweet Release!!!

Ah sweet mother of God!!! That free air sure is swell. I, Erika, am officially released from this very expensive 5 star prison in Frankfurt Germany! Iknow, I know, there are worse places to be imprisoned, but really! Can you afford to live off of the mini bar and room service for 3 days? I thinkI mortgaged my future first born son for some chocolate covered macadamia nuts in a sleeping drug haze last night. Does it count if you were under the influence?

I am released back to the skies as of tomorrow morning. If you love someone let them fly, that´s what I say. As my wings are still clipped for the day I will have to amuse myself hopping about the ground. ButI will not spend another grey Frankfurt day cooped up in my gilded cubby hole. I am off to drink gluwein at the christmas markets and visit a museum. Wait, can´t you die or something by mixing antibiotics with alcohol? Oh well, it will have been worth it. Free at last! Kind of.

The best of plans they go astray

I had such good intentions, really. I was all buffered up and rearing to go last night. A perfectly pharmaceutically enhanced sense of well being. I was ready to get a good nights sleep and take on the world sick or not sick. Health be damned.

I turned out the lights. I didn´t sleep. I gave up. I turned them back on. I did sudoku puzzles. UNTIL 9AM! Then I got tired. Then I slept until 5:30pm. And woke up sick again.

As I said the best of intentions...

Stupid Stupid Stupid

I am stupid stupid stupid. For a smart person that is. I am engrossed in a novel called ´´The Satanic Verses´´by Salman Rushdie. I was scheduled to be headed to the middle east today. Luckily I got sick instead. As my doctor was examining me he looks over and reminds me that they don´t exactly like Rushdie in the Middle East. They have been threatening to kill him for ages, actually. And, this should go without saying to a Jewish middle eastern bound flight attendant, they really don´t much like his books in their countries. Can you say duh?

Sick Sucks in Frankfurt

Hey kids! I am sick in Frankfurt Germany. I am positive it is the dreaded bird flu but my lovely German doctor refuses to agree. He says that it is a boring old upper respiratory infection accompanied by fever and blocked ears. How boring is that!

So, as I am confined to a hotel and have no brand new adventures to share I will tell you a story from last week entitled:

Airplane Pillow Fight: The Thanksgiving 2005 Surprise Attack

Well, that´s it. I highly reccomend engaging in one on your next international flight. And make sure you nail the flight attendant as many times as possible in her cute little noggin.
As this war took place on the way to San Antonio from Ireland with soldiers going home for the holiday, you might think that they would be tired of battle but you would be wrong. They were way into it. I just feel terrible for the aircraft cleaners as the plane was littered with pillow carnage with no surface left untouched. Those pillows, they died for a cause.

Rest In Peace (Piece)

Happy Holidays...

Cooking Fish in the Bathroom a la Ross

Sunday evening Ross cooked my little sister Gabrielle and I fish in the bathroom. Yes, in the bathroom. He used his "Set it and forget it'' rotisserie. And I must say, it was good. But the bathroom reaked! It smelled, well, like fish. And nine out of ten people would agree that ones bathrrom should never smell like fish. I mean if it was a popular bathrrom smell wouldn't someone bottle it? We would have bathroom fish air freshener and bathroom fish candles. But no, these things do not exist and hopefully never will. And too make matters even odder the fish had eyeballs. Imagine this if you will. A couple of perfect looking red snapper twirling round and round in a stinky metal box in your bathroom. You can pee and marinate dinner all at the same time. It really does bring new meaning to the term multi-tasking and, for that matter, marinating.

Ross is a truly 'special' man. And he makes a mean fish!

Why eat your food when you can play with it's decapitated remains? At the open air market this adorned the top of a food stand. I wonder what they were selling? And where can I get some nifty shades? 

As I was walking to the open air market in Catania Italy yesterday I was suddenly found myself staring dumbfounded through the window of a store only to be bombarded with this strange display window. And I think that they were selling bathrooms. Who knew about the whole bondage bathroom conection. 

This is a little number I like to call FLight Attendants Behaving Oddly. 16hrs on an airplane is enough to give anyone a touch of the old crazy. I just arrived in Virginia from Sicily. We stopped along the way to pick up more people in different countries and all in all 16hrs passed. 

This is the Storm King Gap on the Hudson River as viewed from the public lands across the street from our house. 

I don't think that you have met my dog yet. Well say hello to Princess! She's crazy and she bites but we still love her. And no, we did not name her. Ross and I would never give a dog such a common name. he prefers Ostinato and I prefer Hurdy Gurdy. Please pity our future children. 

Lost pictures

Oh where, oh where have my poor lost pictures gone. I potsed you all such pretty pretty pictures and they have up and died. And now I am headed off to Germany and then on to Italy where I will drink copious amounts of lovely wine and try aand answer the age old question, "who makes the better wine?" with loads of lovely gals helping make the findings more ''scientific''. Wish me well.

 

Ross's New Magic Trick

So kids, I returned late last night from a rocking Germany overnight only to discover that Ross has a new magic trick. It has yet to be named, so I will try my best to describe it to you:

On arrival at the house I wander in to the kitchen looking for munchies. I open the refrigerator and 'HOCUS POCUS' It is empty! Ross has made all of the groceries that I purchased a day or two before departing on a 70 hr trip disappear. He ate a DOZEN eggs, every perishable item, a pack of tortillas, nearly everything in the freezer and two TONS of CHEESE! Where does he put it?