The Me I Miss

I haven’t seen her in a while, and it excites me when I get to meet up with her.

She is one of the coolest, most grounded people I know. It’s not that she’s perfect or doesn’t have days where she feels crazy. Trust me, there are days she wanted to put herself away.

I stand in awe of her because: she’s creative, adventurous, genuinely loves physical activity, and is wickedly smart. She’s not the smartest of the smart, but her wit is sharp and doesn’t mince words.

She jokingly admits to having her mother’s looks and her father’s mouth.

I’ve known her for a while, but we only cross paths at certain times. During times of travel, single girl outings, or various other adventures. She drifts onto center stage unannounced, and owns moments in a way that is captivating. In truth, I envy her.

She is me. This she is the extrovert in me when I let her out. Whenever I take myself out or force myself to do something new and different, I turn into the woman I’ve always wanted to be. Not everything is perfect, but when I’m immersed in something, I’m happy, focused, and excited for what the next moment has in store. I’m in the perfect environment for me to be my most awesome self, and it shows… even to me.

I wish I could be her all of the time; when that me isn’t around, I miss her like crazy.

It’s Not You, It’s Me

Dear Thought Catalogue & Style Caster,

Hey, it’s me. I usually hate pulling one of these, but I felt as though it was necessary:

we need to talk.

I promise not to take long, but this needs to be said.

I hate to do this, and tried to avoid the facts, but this needs to be addressed; things are getting out of hand. As interesting as some of your content is, you’ve become like an invasive plant on my reader. Post after post keeps me scrolling for several minutes to find those I follow whose content I also enjoy reading. Admittedly, I like the posts from “others” on my feed more consistently than I enjoy yours.

Yes, I’ve been reading posts from other bloggers. You came on too strong, and I miss the content of those I was reading before we met.

It’s not you; while I still find you lovely, it’s impossible for me to catch up on the posts of others with you taking over my feed to the point of spamming it. I need to enjoy the posts of my fellow bloggers again, which is why I have unfollowed.

I’m sorry to have to do it, but it was necessary. One day, I hope you’ll understand.

Truly yours,

Miss Rach

Single Girl Adventures

I had a layover where I was actually able to get out and explore my surroundings, and it was one of the coolest layovers that a girl could ever hope to get.

Your girl was running around NYC 3 weeks ago. Yep. Good ol’ New York City. I spent a bit of time in Manhattan, and went to Brooklyn. Besides the fact that it’s New York and that city brings out the adventurer and explorer in me, it also conjured fond memories of the month I spent there nearly two years ago. The creativity, spontaneity and je ne sais quoi that is New York City reminded me of how much I really miss it, and why I yearned to live there. I should visit more often.

I can truly say that I enjoyed myself that weekend. It started with a full face of makeup. Me wanting to use ANY makeup outside of work, let alone a full face (which I don’t even do for work!), is about as rare an occurrence as Haley’s Comet. Having said that, I couldn’t just stay in the house. I put on my favourite dress, and went out.

I ended up going out to dance all by myself, which is something that I don’t like doing despite the fact that I enjoy dancing. It was fun meeting different people, including the couple that paid for my drink when I first walked in. It was also great fun to dance with whomever I wanted.

The things that suck about going by yourself as a single girl?

  • creepers that dance with you and won’t let you go. you can run away, but if you at least have a female friend with you, they rescue you from these fates.
  • those moments when you aren’t actually dancing with someone and wish you were, even if it’s just a female friend. they’re less hands-y.
  • not having someone specifically to share an experience with.

Though I consider myself introverted, I get braver and more adventurous when I go somewhere with friends, even if they aren’t as outspoken as me. In fact, I almost met some friends that night. If I didn’t feel like I “had” to be home, I would’ve went out with some girls I met outside of the club. Alas, this shall have to wait until I get a place. In retrospect, I should’ve gotten their numbers; we could’ve chilled another time. Making friends is hard as an adult; I don’t know what it is!

This single lady put her hands up and danced the night away… and liked it. Here’s to more single girl adventures.


In Want Of A Burner

Let’s be real for a moment. Can we take a moment to be honest for a second?

Jetsetting is fun!

Granted, I do it for work, and I mostly explore the East Coast (and a bit of Canada) because I work regional flights… but it’s the most fun I’ve ever had on a job. I literally have a mobile office! I can be in Detroit in the morning, and in Huntsville, Alabama by evening. In a span of 2-3 hours, I can go to Rhode Island and come right back. AND… if I’m fortunate enough to have time in any of the locales that I visit, I get to explore the area and do my favourite thing: find good places to eat!

This is the life, right? RIGHT?


Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking to be land-locked any time soon! It’s just that one thing that gets old for me is eating out. Besides, my stomach doesn’t handle eating out well. The night before Easter and about this time last week, my stomach had been irritated, and I was back and forth between my room and the bathroom for HOURS (I’ll spare you the details. All I’ll say is “both ends”. It wasn’t a good time and I didn’t sleep). I was afraid it was my gall bladder because of how close together the incidents were. Thankfully, according to the doctor, it was not.

Plus, eating out all the time gets to be expensive. Although I do like to eat out at times, it’s mostly to give me inspiration for what I really like to do: cook!

In a hotel, there is precious little that can be heated in a microwave, and even some of your options are limited to what can last 9 hours in a lunch bag without any real refrigeration. Unless you’re going to one special place in a certain location, eating out loses its novelty. I find myself longing for ingredients and a burner over which to combine them and make something delicious.

I know I’ve had this gig for 6 months, but I’m still trying to figure out what to bring when I go away. Nuts, tea, protein bars, instant oatmeal (kind of depressing, but it works in a pinch), sometimes fruit that won’t bruise easily, and the occasional cup of ramen when money is tight seems to be the pattern. It sustains you through a 4-day stretch away from home… and if you’re lucky enough to be near a fast food place, you can grab a quick sandwich to supplement any residual hunger.

The days off have been happy times; the cast iron skillet hits the hob, and I turn the knob for that familiar clicking of the pilot that lights itself. It’s not to say that good meals are scarce on the road, but there’s nothing like cooking for yourself, and assembling things in exactly the fashion that pleases you. Things got so deep at one point that I even missed salad. Yes, salad. It was that serious.

My schedule says I’ll be home tonight, but since I have 3 more on-call days, who knows? I look forward to the next time I can round up some ingredients and enjoy something Rachel-made.

A life-update post is soon to come. A LOT has been going on and is about to happen soon.

Ciao friends!

Tired Advice

“Don’t worry; you’ll find someone. It happens when you least expect it.”

“Put yourself out there.”

“Being single isn’t that bad.”

Oh yeah? Then why don’t you go back to being single and tell me how you feel then?

Hearing these things repeatedly when you’re single makes you want to run the people over that say such things with a tractor trailer… then back up to make sure they’re really most sincerely dead.

Is that harsh enough? Imagine how it feels when smug couples callously throw these sayings your way. I wonder if they even believe what they’re saying when they say it to you. Just because you managed to find someone nice doesn’t mean that everyone in the world does, and it surely had nothing to do with the sorry advice that you gave.

You managed to have one good relationship out of a string of bad ones; trust me, I’m your witness. What now makes you qualified to give me any kind of advice on how to find a man? Who’s to say that I’ll even find one? I know several good women that haven’t, and it scares me to think that I could never have a great husband and children.

Let’s just cut the crap and face this fact: there are good people in the world that don’t end up with someone to love them and they don’t have children, no matter how much they may have wanted it.

I want to believe that it’s possible… but after having always been single with nothing but disappointment to look back on, forgive me if I’m disillusioned, angry at life, and slightly bitter when it comes to this subject. Life is not a Disney movie. Sometimes Cinderella is stuck on the side or the road changing her own tire, or comes home from work after a horrible work week… with nothing to greet her but the wind whistling through the cracks in her walls. She doesn’t even have a cat, and she’d really like one!

Please just don’t say anything else; it doesn’t help. Neither does listening to love songs, yet I do it and end up wanting to drink myself to sleep. I never do, though. What really happens is that I hug my pillow at night and cry, wishing it was someone that could hug me back.

A morbid post, but I’m tired. I’m tired of tired advice. I’m tired of people that say these things, but don’t really care… because they can go home to their spouses or significant others.

While I feel like a vagabond that must put on that brave face and traverse the world alone. Maybe forever.


Fifty Hours, Tipsy Posts, Uber and Fried Chicken

Please forgive me if my spelling is a little off; my latest venture left me a bit snockered, and very friendly with the Uber driver… and singing Latin-flavor songs in my hotel room in the worst voice ever.

One of my pilots tipped me off on a place called the Great Lakes Brewing Co. This sounded like a place that I just had to visit. There are brewery tours, but my suggestion is to schedule one as far in advance as possible. Walk-ins are accepted, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get to experience the tour if you drop in; the preferred method of scheduling a tour is online. Since I didn’t know in advance that I would have a 50-hr layaway in Cleveland, it wasn’t possible to plan accordingly… but since YOU will know whether or not you’re going to Cleveland, add this to your itinerary if you like a good brew, good food, or like food tours.

After a short Uber ride to my destination, I checked on the wait to get a table for myself. It was a short 15-25 minute wait, and there was a downstairs bar where I could grab libations while waiting. One unique thing about this place is that they will text you when a table is ready for you. Keep that phone charged and ready!

By time my table was ready, I managed to get a glass of Conway’s Irish Ale. It had a slight syrup/molasses flavor to me. In general, it was a light and enjoyable beer. I also tasted the Christmas Blend and the Burning River Pale Ale. The former had a similar flavor composition to Conway’s Irish Ale; the major difference was the nose. The Christmas blend had a clove-like aroma to it, which may have been due to the cinnamon and ginger used in it. Burning River Pale Ale, however, was altogether different. The pine note was strong with that one, and it had a bitter finish in comparison to the first two.


The food is also quite good; this place has chef’s specials. I tried the entree special, which was a ravioli with black beans and spinach, I believe. Forgive me for not knowing the specifics; at the time the waitress explained it to me, I was too tipsy to follow along. I heard bacon, ravioli, spinach and black beans, and was instantly on board. The ravioli was crisp instead of the usual texture that is expected of a boiled ravioli; I believe it was fried. In my very tipsy drunken state, I compared it to an amazing grilled cheese (I’m such a flyweight when drinking alcohol; it’s sad).


I also ordered bread pudding for dessert. It was nutty, which may have had to do with the bourbon-butter. Said bread pudding was also formed into a square, and topped with a blob of house made whipped cream. One can never go wrong with a crap ton of whipped cream on something.


Finally, I took my check, and carefully walked my tipsy self out of the restaurant to get an Uber ride. The car smelled like fried chicken. Even after having eaten, this was a welcoming aroma; it was as welcoming as my Uber driver was to my incessant chatter.

I am so grateful to have had such a long layover; otherwise, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to experience what is in this city. Even so, there are still a couple of things that I’d like to keep on my list. The one Uber driver was nice enough to inform me of a few other places that I’d like to visit here.

I look forward to my next long overnight here, or anywhere else. Who knows what I might find?


As father and I jumped off, we frantically began to flap our arms, praying that our wings would carry us. Before long, we didn’t have to flap as hard; we had caught an air current. We were actually flying! Deciding to fly a bit higher, we had to mount into the air through a cloud. It was a bit daunting; while in a cloud, whiteness surrounds you and visibility is minimal. Still, I flapped. Finally, I emerged into the warmth and beauty of a blue sky. The cloud through which I flew seemed as frothy water below me. Entranced by the blue of the sky and the warmth of open air, I felt alive and powerful. I wonder how close I could get to the heat of the sun…

So I may have taken creative liberty here (the real story is less descriptive), but after seeing what Icarus probably saw when he flew, I get how he could have easily forgotten his father’s admonition.

Seeing a takeoff firsthand is something that everyone should have the opportunity to do. I’ve received the opportunity to do so twice. The first time around, it was too cloudy to see anything, even at altitude. The next time, however, was altogether different.

As we mounted into the sky, the aircraft was swiftly approaching a cloud. It’s unnerving to fly full speed through something as big as a cloud, even if you know you can fly through it. I found myself cringing and bracing myself. Nothing more happened than being surrounded by grayish-white; think of it as a thick fog.

Once we got through it, not only was there sunlight that was barely seen on the ground, but now blue sky appeared. It was big, open and limitless. Those clouds we flew through were now far below us, and resembled a churning, foamy river or ocean. One can’t help but to feel awakened at the sight of such a thing.

I immediately thought of the Greek myth where Icarus and his father soared through the sky like birds. Aside from him drowning, I envy them. I could almost see them diving in and out of the clouds, and breathing in the salty sea that would’ve been well below them.

I have always wanted to fly; this occupation allows me to soar through the air. Even if I decide to take up something else, I know me. I won’t stay grounded for long.