Category Archives for Aviation Relationships

Why Being a Flight Attendant is like Finding Your Soulmate

Bingo, I thought as the question casually rolled off the lead pilot’s tongue. “So, are you looking for a full-time job?” Whether I wanted a full-time position with more security and

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Aviation Does NOT Ruin Relationships

The heartbreaking message glared harshly in all it’s heaviness, heartache, and uncertainty. Sent from somewhere on the other side of the world, I sensed the stranger’s desperation. I inhaled

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Living single as a flight attendant and [finally] loving it

I saunter up to the host at one of the restaurants at this beachside, all-inclusive resort in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. My bright green teal skirt is offset by the dark leather purse hanging loosely over

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Love Built An Airline

I find myself asking the same question that a confused reader wrote ‘Dear Sugar.’ ‘Dear Sugar,’ backed by the devotion of Cheryl Strayed, anonymously bares her heart and soul— vulnerably and

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What Billionaires Taught A Flight Attendant About “Impossible” Goals

By Griffin Bruehl So you get a trip. It’s a 12-hour flight from Paris to Tokyo. You are carrying six passengers and four crew; including yourself. All beds in the cabin are filled and your crew rest

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Your job as a flight attendant is more important than you think

“Summer. It was so nice talking to you. I hope you pursue yachting and wish you the very best.” I say this while standing to give this girl— a girl I literally met less than ten minutes before— a

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Don’t Date Pilots

I only titled this piece as such, because I thought you would read it if I told you not to date pilots. Really, this blog is called “Love + A Box Of Crackerjacks.” I hope you read it anyway.

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I’m a flight attendant but NOT your next casual fling.

Maybe I underestimated you and for sure you’ve overestimated me. I assumed that you would have the capacity to think of me as more than a flight attendant fling or uncommitted counterpart. “It’s

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Paris Is Always A Good Idea

The distinct piano notes, interrupted by beats and lyrics, carried a clear message through the dimly lit Parisian apartment. “Let’s have a toast for the assholes. Let’s have a toast for the scumbags…Runaway

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Happy [With Or Without You]

The hurt reminiscent of a break-up claws deep within me; begging for an avenue of escape. Words— which I so often use to break sadness, clear confusion, or portray hope and happiness—feel grossly beyond

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