The jet-setting life

An obligatory
“Sorry for not posting”

For almost 35 years, my life was bounded

  • on the North by the Canadian border
  • on the East on a line through Rapid City, South Dakota
  • on the South by a line through Santa Fe, New Mexico
  • on the West by the Pacific Ocean.

Seattle and Denver were the largest cities I had ever been in.

Since March, I have been around the world. Twice.

“Oooh. Glamorous! Jet setter! Front of the plane! Grand hotels!”


My latest trip:

Redeye to Frankfurt. Redeye to Singapore. 22 hours.

Clear Customs and Immigration. Disembarkation card:



You can’t say you weren’t warned.

Check into hotel. Shower and dress. Go to meeting.

Room full of sponsors, bankers, lawyers, investors and engineers. Half of them insulted that my firm would send a girl. The other half that we would send only one person, and she barely out of school.

8-hour grilling by sponsors, bankers, lawyers, investors and engineers. One of the senior engineers (whose work I am implicitly shredding) refers to me as, “Young Lady”. I smile.

Increasing signs of respect, beginning with the senior engineers.

Meeting breaks up. We got the job. General consensus that the Young Lady knows what she’s talking about.

Banker: Give you a lift?

Me: Sure. Thanks.

Banker: A drink and dinner?

Me (showing ring): I’m engaged.

Banker (laughing): I’m gay.

Me (laughing): I’m engaged to a girl.

Banker takes me to the Long Bar at the Raffles. I order a Singapore Sling, because: Raffles. Take one sip. Ewwww. Order a gin and tonic.

Banker takes me to the Seafood Centre. I order chili crab, because: Singapore. Holy cow! Amazing! They don’t serve chili crab at the diner in West Jerkwater. Sadly, the craft beer craze has not reached the Singapore Seafood Centre.

Catch midnight flight to Frankfurt.

24 hours later, back in New York.

That’s right folks:

A day trip to Singapore.

40 hours on planes.