Lufthansa, where have you been all my life?

Let me just say, for the record, that I LOVE Lufthansa airlines. One, they give you booze for free. Not that I'm a huge boozer myself, but when the drink cart comes round and they're offering me red or white wine, champagne or beer at no extra charge, I am happy to oblige. After dinner, the stewardess even waived a bottle of Bailey's around to gauge interest. It's like the bottle was glowing and angelic voices were singing "Ahhhh!" I do love that stuff. If you're ever offering it for free, Yes ma'am, sign me up.

Two, they have Tillamook cheese slices with every meal. I enjoyed two delicious pieces, one with my glass of red, the other after a sleepless night sitting almost straight up one seat over from the funniest, most critical 80-yr old Czechoslovakian woman I've ever met. Her fingers were like sausages as they indignantly flipped magazine pages, she muttering her displeasure about the man in front of her practically sleeping in her lap the entire flight. And the whole plane heard about it.

Three, they brought around water and juice at least once an hour, regardless of the comatose state of the plane. Thank you sincerely, Lufthansa! I'm so glad to see that you're concerned about my possible dehydration. It's those small little touches that make all the difference. Airlines in America, please take note.

Please Record your Extended Absence Greeting

My apologies to my readers for my somewhat, but not really, lengthy absence. I simply cannot be bothered while in Europe. A huh huh huh (haughty laugh, hair flip).  That and the fact that I'm using a German keyboard which means the 'z' and the 'y' are switched so every several words I have to backspace because I have once again tzped something that makes no sense. However, for the faithful, I will copy a few back entries from my travel journal. Enjoz.

MINUTES THE FIRST
Still the coolest thing ever. Looking out the window of a ginormous aircraft as we ride the air pressure off the ground and the horizon line goes all wonky. It's almost a feeling of weightlessness, like if I took off my seatbelt, I'd go floating through the cabin; yet in the next minute, gravity pulls my lower back heavily into the seat. It's no wonder people need barf bags. I think my stomach just rolled back to the bathrooms.

The golden Lufthansa bird-like stick figure peeks off of everything, and the first language of every announcement is German. Not a problem, as I speak it, but what begins to frustrate me is not that my skills have gotten so rusty, but that they speak so damn softly! "I can't hear you!" I want to scream. I understand just fine, I just need an ear cone to pick up all of your super soft syllables. Why do people who don't speak English insist on whispering? Maybe that's why Americans sound like we're using bullhorns in comparison. Ahhh, that's it! Mystery solved. We're not the loudest people on the planet! Everyone else just speaks in secrets.