Mile high club.

"New York City! Just like I pictured it! Skyscrapers and ev'rythang!"

~ from Stevie Wonder's "Living for the City"
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Guess what? It's official--I'm in the "mile high club!"

Yup, that's right, y'all. I'm blogging on an airplane several thousand feet in the sky!

Woo hoo!

Hey. . . what "mile high club" did you think I was referring to? Oh my, you naughty readers!

Well. Seeing as nothing could possibly be more random than blogging in the air from my iPad, how about a nice random post for your reading and time-wasting pleasure? Don't mind if I do!

So. You probably know from my last post that I was just in NYC for BlogHer '12. And technically I have to admit -- especially to those who are there -- I was there only for a "turn and burn" visit. I got the chance to sit on a panel this morning and did attend some cool sessions before and after that. But otherwise I missed most of the action--including the LIVE closed circuit address from President Barack Obama to the whole BlogHer '12 general session--which I would have been all up in if I didn't have to work tomorrow.

Can I just say that I am TOTALLY going to plan better next year so that I can fully attend BlogHer '13 and not just do a drive-by?

Seriously.

Because the BlogHer organization is RAD. And women in this world are doing and writing some kick ass things. The energy was amazing and the conference was seamlessly organized.

Loved. It.

Speaking of kick ass things--on my way to NY, I was on the plane next to a woman pilot. She was using her Delta playa card to fly free but was still in uniform. (And you know I asked her if she was flying for work or if she was just using her "playa card" to go to NYC. She confirmed the latter.)

But THAT'S not my point. My point is this: I once read that pilots never take off their caps inside of the airport and airport grounds. From what I recall, it's fine in the plane but the hat stays on once you step out of the cockpit.

Random, I know. Well. I always wondered if it was true. And guess what? I asked the lady pilot when we stepped off in LaGuardia because--yep--on went her pilot cap as soon as we left. Guess what y'all? It's true!

Mmm hmmm. Sure is.

What else?

Oh LAWD. Why did I have an epic FAIL with my airport to hotel cabbie? Gaahh! FIRST he commenced to go off on somebody over the phone in another language while driving NO LESS than 200 mph through the city. Matter of fact--the more pissed off he got the faster dude drove. Can you say scary? THEN dude swerves into the Sheraton like one of the Dukes of Hazzard and stops GOING OFF only long enough to ask me:

"You pay cash, right?"

Woefully, I shook my head and held up my lonely little debit card. And I exaggerate NOT ONE BIT when I tell you that the duke of hazardous driving rolled is eyes and sucked his teeth harder than any person I have ever seen or heard in my forty one and a half years.

But. It gets worse. . . .

I swipe my card in the back seat and nervously follow the directions. And can i just say that it wasn't completely straightforward? Anyways. I ask him for a receipt as I'm clambering across the seat to escape. That's when this happened:

"WHAT in thee HELL, LADY?! You indicate ZERO TIP here!!! ZERO tip!!"

And just when I thought his first teeth sucking was the worst ever, he trumped that fast. OMG. I swear this man looked like he was 100% prepared to take me down right there in front of the Sheraton. Not. Even. Kidding.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see that! Is there a way I can add it? I'm happy to--"

His response? Would you believe that his answer to my sappy apology was a toss of my rolling duffel? Maaaaan. My bag hit the concrete with a sickening thud.

And hold up--he had the nerve to stand there like I was supposed to still TIP him!

Awww hell naw.

"I WAS about to give you some cash but now you ain't getting NOTHING." I sucked MY teeth, rolled MY eyes, put my hand on my hip and even let my backbone slip for emphasis.

Mmmm hmmm. Sure did.

So what else? Man. Hotel rooms in NY are teeny-tiny. I opened the door to my room and knocked out a window next to the bed. Okay. That's an exaggeration but it was a little room. Albeit a nice one.

Oh yeah!

I got to see one of my most fave-fave-fave former Grady doctors on Wednesday! Nat L! She's now a Bellevue doctor but we both know that Grady doctors and Bellevue doctors are cut from the same cloth. Anywho. I hadn't seen Natalie in over a year but I swear we picked up like we'd just worked in clinic together the day before. We walked through the city with arms linked like middle schoolers and had an awesome meal of delicious Brazilian food complete with red sangrias. Best of all, we talked and talked and talked and talked. It was so awesome and . . . easy.

Which has me thinking. Now that I'm forty one going on forty two I deeply appreciate that in my relationships. Transparency, no egg shells to walk upon or uncertainty about where we are. Even if time has gone by. I need that in my friendships and value moments like the one I just had with Nat so much. It's just so refreshing, you know? And no--I don't need perfection. Just . . . authenticity. Anything else is exhausting.

I am fortunate to have this with a variety of dear friends. And family, too.

Whelp. Making our final descent into Atlanta. About to get the hairy eyeball from the snarky flight attendant and lose my ridiculously overpriced internet session.

That's all I've got for now anyway. My brief time at BlogHer '12 was awesome, the panel was well received, my girlfriend time was perfect, and, as always, New York City was just like I pictured it--skyscrapers and ev'rythang.

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Happy Mile High Thursday.

P. S. Sorry for the picture funkiness--doing his from an app doesn't allow much creativity!