Xanadu

Xanadu
In Xanadu did Kublah Khan a stately pleasure dome decree

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Going First

I paid more than I wanted - MasterMe did - but it was the best fare I could get home for Christmas the way I massively prefer: on a direct flight from the airport near My house. When it came time to check in, I groused a little about it. $500, no seat assignment, lowest boarding priority for back of the bus, AND $30 to check a bag. They’ve really managed to take all the fun out of flying.  I decided to push My luck and try to carryon/ gate check the bag, then was annoyed I still couldn’t get a seat assignment on the early outbound flight. I generally sleep little and poorly before a morning flight, up late packing and shutting down the house, afraid to catastrophically oversleep a non-refundable ticket. A few hours before checking in, I had asked Princess why she hadn’t packed yet and she replied she didn’t really want to go, mom and dad’s isn’t really very much FUN. That surprised MasterMe.  

So halfway through the flight checkin process, when the software asked Me if I wanted to upgrade to first class for an additional $85, Princess said YES and pretty loudly.  I gave her that. 

I’m sitting in American first class on an Embraer 170 now, in a leather seat, no one next to Me. I check two bags, which itself almost pays for the upgrade. And saves Me screwing up My back dragging heavy luggage up and down long hallways. I got priority curbside bag check; TSA precheck sped Me through security; both of those meant I got a little extra sleep. I was third on the plane; I have both seats in this row of first class. I boarded with one of My injury headaches but am feeling markedly better after half an hour with an ice pack filled by the flight attendant; coffee provided by the floght attendant; now sipping a bloody mary provided by the flight attendant; a much needed ice pack wedged against the right spot on My head; and feeling enduringly good that she told us she is sorry for our pain. A little compassion goes a long way.  

Also I saw a really adorably cute and pink faced baby, wearing a matching pale rosy pink onesie and smiling. That’ll make your day every time.

I forget sometimes that living alone means there is almost never anyone around to keep an eye on Me, help Me out, nurture Me.  It means fewer inputs to the system overall and not as many positive, very few that I do not have to generate Myself. God knows work does nothing of the sort.  My boys fulfill that function sometimes but since boy t left, there’s a lot less of that and I have to ask for it quite definitely, with many times it not being possible for good reason.  This morning boy m provided the requested wakeup call to ensure I did not oversleep, and I could tell he had woken himself up to provide that service (God bless can-do military men).  It made Me feel good and loved and cared for, but it was not physical touch. 

Today we needed someone to be nice to us, to touch us in a more physical
way, and we found it in the form of an upgrade.  Princess is happy, I can feel her happiness is Me, she just needs someone to pay attention and care how she is. MasterMe still learning to do that, though I’ve made enough progress that a few days ago someone commented unprompted that I know how to care for Myself (because of the pink sheepskin cover on My car steering wheel that helps My painfully cold hands when I cannot find My gloves in cold weather).  That made Master feel good.

Really, first class is about the perfect environment for Me. Comfortable, minimal distractions that can be blocked with earplugs, someone to help and slightly pamper Me, time and space to think and read and reflect.

I’m feeling markedly better than I did an hour ago when I boarded, and after feeling like crap for a day already, that’s no small accomplishment. Maybe it’s the six sips of Bloody Mary talking, but mostly it’s the icepack and the feeling that the feeling of stress has lifted for a while.  I’m also pleased to be travelling dressed in some of the new clothes I’ve acquired this year, wearing the new look: leggings, a knee length linen duster coat in a fun color over a long sleeved nice Tshirt for warmth, fun earrings, fun scarf.  Princess feels pretty and FLOOFY, Master feels comfortable and put together in an age appropriate way.

I’ve been kicking around what to do for My big birthday next month and nothing has really seized My imagination.  Then a week ago I asked Princess point blank what she wanted for her birthday and of course, she had an immediate answer.

Diamonds!!!!!!!!!!

Princess wants a diamond ring, one little stone for each decade of her Big Birthday. Diamonds have come up before, a decade ago in the form of earrings, but back then  we were still paying the giant student loan and being done with it was still so far away MasterMe felt we would never get there. I’d forgotten about that. Now with a year of space since paying it off in a blaze of glory, it’s a conversation I can have.  I spent 27 years paying that loan, getting Myself out of indentured servitude. I can allow Myself to spend a few months-worth of student loan payments on something beautiful, esp. since the annual bonus at work arrives in April.  

Princess wants a ring so that when Master is working hard in the office, Proncess can look down at her hand and thrill to the shiny-sparkley.  She just loves shiny-sparkley. That seems like a fair trade.  Princess puts up with a lot from Master and this job.  Sure it might be better spent on improving the house. But there is something here.  I’m gonna be fifty FFS and no one has seen fit to put a diamond ring on My finger. I can do it for Myself now.

Master took princess to the mall to do research for the ring and it was nice for maybe the first time to walk around and feel like yes, I could buy this ring on My finger right now. I choose not to because of other reasons at this moment, I am just researching.  It was nice to notice that the feeling of “I shouldn’t” and “I can’t” and “I mustn’t” in response to everything I want in a mall has lifted.  It no longer feels like a choice between nice hand lotion and survival.

Cake or death.

Um... yeah.  Cake.  Definitely cake.


We are going to have our cake, and next month, we will eat it too.

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