From Big Apple to Big Cheese

We are in Zurich. We landed at 8.30 this morning.

The trip was uneventuful, unless you include the taste of obnoxiousness I already got from a couple of the Swiss stewardesses, or the Swiss passengers who turned and glared and made faces every time Stella or any other baby on the flight made a peep. In typical Swiss fashion, they didn’t actually confront the parents about keeping the kids quiet, only glared and hoped that you’d take the hint. Me, I was just waiting for them to say something so I could tell them to get lost. Constantly crying children would drive me crazy too, but this wasn’t the case. If you want complete silence, wear noise-blocking headphones for the whole trip. Or rent a private plane. Otherwise, suck it up. Or, you know, bite me.

Because we were returning from a business assignment, we flew Business class. In typical tacky fashion, I took pics of all the things I never get to do normally, like hang out at the Business Lounge:

Sascha and Stella, chilling after a nice "snack"

Or have to raise my voice to talk to my husband because there’s so much space between our seats (whereas usually I just raise my voice because I’m obnoxious. And I have loud Italian genes. Loud genes, people.):

Look at them. All comfortable and stuff.

Or eat a gourmet dinner on the plane:

A tablecloth. A white tablecloth, people. Nuts.

Or get to order a custom breakfast and have it show up 5 minutes after I woke up (after a whopping 40 minutes of sleep), looking all lovely and pretty tempting despite me feeling all weird and nauseous.

I have never been woken up with breakfast in my life. Not once.

Or arrive at the airport and be picked up by a group of friends and family with flowers, balloons and even a banner:

I looked like crap and I was exhausted, but I still thought this was adorable

I tell you, it’s enough to give a girl a bit of a swollen head

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