The Wannabe Aviatrix - Inaugural Post

Welcome to my blog, including but not limited to my quest to become a private pilot, my adventures with my husband and our two sled dogs, my attempts at fitness and healthy eating, my uphill battle with organizing our apartment, and sage advice from the Little General (my mother).

Over the summer a few years ago, I had the opportunity to spend a little too long sitting in the open air on the roof of the White Plains airport, watching planes take off and land at this tiny time capsule which had been left behind by the wave of security that our post-9/11 world has provided. Watching the aircraft repeatedly ascend on that breezy, early July morning wearing my Ray-Ban aviators, I was able to escape from my somewhat troubling recent past and my uncertain future, and simply live in the moment. The feeling continued a bit through the weekend as we rose up in our own plane and touched down in the south, in another world. It was nice to get away for a little while, although my mind continued to race at its usual speed. A couple of days later, flying back to the little White Plains airport, our plane stayed low for about the last forty minutes or so and I mused about how nice that was, that now someone was watching me on my journey. Little did I know that several years later I would be learning to fly one of those little planes I was watching taking off and landing at that very airport. But that is a story for a few posts from now.

That same summer I was feeling sorry for myself because I was going through a divorce and living with my mother in Westchester. During this time, I bounced from home to home in the New York area while waiting to close on a tiny but perfect studio I had purchased. I stayed at my mother's house, at her boyfriend's apartment, and on numerous couches of friends and family. I stayed in a gorgeous modern upper west side apartment with a wall of glass windows, the softest sheets I ever had the privilege in which to slip my body, and walls without art or even a family photo. I stayed repeatedly on a pull-out couch in a good friend's welcoming apartment, made even more welcoming by her providing me candy, full-access to her high resolution flat screen TV and all the cable I could handle, and of course a sympathetic ear. I stayed in the height of summer on a comfy couch in Queens with a much-needed remote-controlled air conditioner and a wise, young married couple who gave me hope again. I was asked more times than I cared to count if I would also need a wash cloth with my bath towel, and this taught me that I am definitely not a person who ever needs a wash cloth (and in fact there are no washcloths to be found in the apartment my husband and I currently share - yes, I got remarried!). And eventually I made it home to my little apartment, which was only the beginning of my adventures.

 Once I was settled back in the city and socializing did not require a Meto North ticket and schedule, I really got into online dating. More than one friend hazarded a guess that I went on an average of two dates per week. I always unwaveringly demured that they were wrong and it just seemed that way...but were are not wrong. There was an unending pool of men in the internet ether who, based on my profile, wanted to comment on my sexy black dress photo, wanted me to take them on a tour of MoMA related to my expressed love of art and an accompanying insider-y list of artists to prove it, and who asked if I was going to analyze them because I am a psychologist (a child psychologist who does research - thanks for weeding yourselves out, boys!). I received plenty of unsolicited correspondence that lowered my morale, including an email from a fat, balding 34-year-old lawyer who offered, "You're a bit old for my taste but I'll give you a shot." Including reconnecting with a man I had dated who was a bit old for me and didn't want anymore children: "You're very cute, despite not being a size 2." Including an email on Christmas day from a never-married 47-year-old man, claiming to have read my entire profile (which state clearly that I am Jewish): "so, did you go to midnight mass?" I also received a clearly-worded, coherent, sweet email from a man who I ended up meeting for a drink and then dinner and then another dinner and then a flight in a four-seater plane and then another date and another and now we are on a permanent date because he became my husband.