Sunday, January 12, 2014

Livin' the high life

... The title? Yea, that's a pun. Because I'm about to write a post about both flying and living in style. (Just wanted to make sure no one missed it)

Today is the day I finally made it. I was upgraded for the first time on British Airways to first class. (Oh yea! Revenge of the colonies <--- I'm slightly embarrassed that I just wrote that)

What does this means? On British, it means you have your own little cubical in the very front of the plane (pictures below). I had to retain my innerchild from jumping up and down in my area.


I don't know why I thought only famous (or really rich people) would be my companions. Turns out, I found myself in the company of 100% males, of which I was the youngest by about 20 years. 

This means that (1) I got strange looks from people - or maybe I was just selfconscious (2) I was the only one that got the "female" style pack. I think it was the only one with a brush instead of a comb. But then again, most of these men could hardly use a comb (3) I had very little sleep. Probably due to the amount of snoring old men - seriously it's like the snoreberian orchestra. And not in a good way.

I tried to fit in and feel like I deserve first class, but that potential was lost by my teenage selfie that I had to take for proof


The flight attendant was rather concerned about feeding me. As he mentioned everytime (and allowed me to have multiple desserts - oops). I must have forgotten to order a vegetarian meal, since there is normally and option. But not in first class! Sigh. Well, maybe there was, but I had no idea how to read this menu. So many strange words! (Does your vocabulary have to increase to fly first?)


The flight attendant who proclaimed that he "didn't want to send me home hungry or my mom will wonder what those people on British airways are feeding me" took a meal from business class for me. (Damn straight! Pulling rank on my first day?!?) 

We were also all served these weird little starters. It tasted of... Well... Not much to be honest. But it looked cool. 


Oh, and they make your bed. Which means laying down a pad and giving you a warm comforter. Not too shabby. I woke up to a strange hair tie on my table. The attendant explained to me that he assumed it was mine "since I'm the girl". Hmmm. No - But I do wonder who else's it could have been? 



In conclusion. Prince Harry was not on my flight. But turns out he's officially taken now anyways (hey, a girl can still dream right?






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