The Colors of Fall in the Chicago Burbs

With another day on reserve, I woke up around 7am, having been on the clock for the previous three hours. See? I make money in my sleep. The airline would be happy to learn, however, that even in my sleep, I dreamt that I was assisting the ground crew by loading soda cans onto an airplane. Why the airplane was parked at the beach and had its inflatable slides deployed is neither here nor there.




After a subpar and overpriced breakfast at the hotel's Starbuck's, Greg and I convened with another high school friend living in a nearby suburb. As it is Monday, you could reasonably infer that none of us have real jobs. We spent our morning exploring the Morton Arboretum. Some of the leaves were still clinging to the trees. We put a lot of miles under our shoes as we walked around the expansive network of trails. There wasn't necessarily a huge amount of things to see other than trees (it is an arboretum after all), but it was nice just to get out. It was unseasonably warm, at one point getting above 70 degrees . . . in November . . . in Chicago.

 All of this walking combined with the lackluster Starbucker's croissant from this morning gave me a great hunger. Greg kept checking in with me to see if I was becoming irritable. I apparently have a reputation for getting hangry (hungry and angry simultaneously) if I am not fed promptly. The scenery kept me calm long enough to make it to Portillo's for an Italian beef sandwich and a hot dog.



Portillo's is a Chicago area staple like deep-dish pizza, or graft. I hadn't eaten there since high school, so it was strange to be back. In my youth, I would always go up after my meal for a chocolate cake. Sadly, I went cake-less today. There's always next time...

Tomorrow is another 12-hour reserve shift beginning at 4am. While I didn't receive a call today, it is impossible to predict what may happen tomorrow. While it seems unlikely that they would assign me anything substantial on my last day on reserve, I can never fully relax because I feel like I have to constantly be checking my phone when I'm out and about. It's also going to be a logistical challenge because I have to check out of the hotel and still be around until 4pm. I do not intend to be wheeling my luggage around town and wearing my uniform all day if I can help it...even though I would look adorable. Just look at that face!

The Not So Windy City

After flying in from Charleston early this morning, I had to sit ready reserve at the airport for four hours. During this time, I tried to be productive. I had breakfast, went for a walk around all of B concourse, then all of C concourse. Then, feeling frisky, I continued walking through concourses D, E, F, G, H, K, and L. You probably didn't even know half of those existed. If you're curious, L is where Spirit flies in, so if you're a sane traveler, you will never see this concourse. After getting some lunch, I went and got a flu shot. Yes, in the airport. Aren't you proud of me, Mom? At precisely noon, I left the terminal, checked into my hotel, and got wind that a friend of mine in Wisconsin, Greg aka Mr. Poopers, planned to drive down. With this knowledge in hand, I promptly readied myself by passing out, face down, on the hotel bed while Taylor Swift continued to play from my laptop.

Upon arrival, we went to a pub in downtown Chicago, where I ate a pretzel burger and half of Greg's quesadilla. Although I suggested he try and gain some weight prior to his wedding and lose it afterward, he did not heed my advice. We spent the rest of the evening walking around and taking pictures. We went to Millennium Park and saw the bean. Most of my pictures are unfortunately yellowish because I couldn't easily change my white balance settings on my simple point-and-shoot camera. It is the sacrifice I make when I have to carry my life around in a 22" suitcase.

We then took a stroll by the river. For November, it was a pleasant evening, not too cold, and the winds were calm. Shocking! Even this morning, I was afforded very nice views of the Chicago skyline as we lined up for our approach into O'Hare. It was very nice to also finally get out of a hotel or an airport and actually explore a place a little bit. Tomorrow I have a 12 hour reserve, so I'm not sure what to do during that time. It's hard to completely relax because I could be called at any time. We will see what happens . . .

What time is it? No, wait . . . what day is it?

Today was the day of schedule changes . . . or was that yesterday? I was preparing to get on a plane from LA to Minneapolis when crew support gave me a call telling me to go to Chicago O'Hare for "ready reserve." Instead of being the usual two hours out for reserve, I now had to be inside the terminal, uniform on, ready-to-go at any moment. But first I had to get from LAX to ORD on an oversold redeye United flight, my only way of making it to O'Hare on time. I took the very last seat on the plane -- the jumpseat in the cockpit. It was difficult to get any rest because the crew kept talking about their schedules and their battles with the bidding software. More on this common airline topic of conversation here...

I arrived in Chicago in the middle of a rainstorm at 6am. My report time wasn't for another six hours, so I went to the United Club, gave them one of my day passes, and attempted to take a nap in one of the chairs with only moderate results, but substantial neck pain. I enjoyed some pound cake, soup, and salad before I received a call telling me I would now be going to Charleston, South Carolina.

Fortunately I would not have to actually operate the aircraft. I would merely deadhead in the back, where I promptly fell asleep. There was a girl afraid of flying across the aisle from me. I feel like there is nothing more calming to a nervous flyer than someone in a pilot uniform nodding off in the middle of moderate turbulence. Two hours later, we arrived in Charleston. The airport is not particularly close to town, so instead of the well-known Georgian-style architecture, I saw an outlet mall and a Chick-Fil-A, which became my dinner. Tomorrow I will fly back to Chicago to potentially start this process all over again.