Flight:
SOUTHWEST AIRLINES - BURBANK TO NEWARK

Sitting Between:
DR. PAT and a WINDOW

Mood:
Not Awesome

I was in a pissy mood. I was feeling a little sick and congested, which irritated me not only because of the cold itself, but also because I knew that our descent would make my ears plug to the point of pain. As a kid, I hated airplanes because I would be holding my head against the front seat every time the plane descended. This problem went away as I got older, but always returned with even slight congestion. Not fun.

Needless to say, I was not in the talking mood. So when Dr. Pat started talking to me midway through our long flight to Newark, I was like OMG. I can’t even hear him, or myself. I feel sick. Stop talking to me. Dr. Pat is in his late 60s, had a copy of the New York Times, and diligently read from cover to cover. He also took a pill at the beginning of the flight, which made me think – Great. He’s sick, too. That’s just what I need… another sick person next to me to get me even more sick (an aside: I’m kind of a b*tch when I’m sick, if you couldn’t already tell).

Like any stranger on a plane, he asked me if I was from Newark or from LA, what I did for a living, if I had siblings, what ethnicity I am, etc. It was a long flight, and I’m sure he was bored. I answered his questions, and like any polite little girl, I asked him the same questions. Now, I have a soft spot for old people… and I also have a soft spot for people who are actually smart. Turns out, the more he talked, the more I found he was actually really cool. A retired doctor who traveled to different countries with Doctors Without Borders, he literally helped save lives.

Dr. Pat started talking to me about his kids, their education, and his struggle and sacrifice to provide for his family. See, I also have a soft spot for people who work really hard. My parents were both immigrants, so I totally admire people with a great work ethic, who’ve had to grind hard to get where they are. He continued on to ask me about my educational background and my parents. I told him that I had gone to Stanford and was now a musician and songwriter in LA. He asked me if I thought about grad school ever. I told him that my parents continually encourage me to go to business school and that I’ve always had sort of an entrepreneurial spirit, but that I am, for now, pursuing what makes me happy. He then went on to tell me that I really should go to business school – why wouldn’t I, he said. “You’re a smart girl. You owe it to your parents.” His words “you owe” really struck a chord with me because in all fairness, I do feel like I owe a lot to my parents. For a minute, he really made my head spin. Maybe I could do both. Maybe I should do both. Maybe…

It was a long flight, and he started asking me what kind of music I write. I told him pop. He asked again, and I said I play piano, but it’s really just pop music. He continued to ask, and so finally, I asked him if he’d like to hear some music. I had my laptop, so I played him “Open Me” (if you haven’t heard it, go to http://on.fb.me/natalise and download it for free!).

I gave him my headphones and he began to listen. Two minutes went by and he was still listening. He listened all the way to the end without barely any movement. With one second left to go on the track, he slowly took the headphones off and turned to me. Dr. Pat then said with the utmost gravity, “I can’t let you go to business school. I won’t allow it. This is amazing.”

He practically made me cry. For the last forty minutes he had been pushing me like a stand-in father, telling me that I had to go to business school, that I needed to think about my future… that I owed it to myself and my parents… and my future kids. He actually made me feel guilty about the whole thing, like I was selfish for choosing to pursue my music. But now, after a mere four minutes, he did a 180. It was funny and kinda sweet. He excitedly spouted, “Who is your agent? Who is your manager? Get him on the phone with me! I need to tell him to push you harder. You have talent. That’s amazing. Some people say they are ‘musicians’ and they are OK. But you – you’re the real deal. You’re a genius!” I started laughing. I assured him I wasn’t.

But I was grateful. The music industry is hard. People are harsh and you have to continue to remind yourself everyday why you’re in it… why you deserve to be in it. It never ceases to try to test you. Every day there are hundreds of reasons why you are reminded that another, more traditional option is probably easier. It can be an emotional roller coaster. Dr. Pat’s turnaround was certainly a pleasant surprise. He asked to hear more, so I played him some unreleased songs ;)

So Dr. Pat, I’m sure you don’t have a FB page. And I’m sure you won’t ever read this, but thank you for that moment. I really do appreciate it, and I’ll remember what you said in the inevitable moments when I may have doubts… and be reminded that you forbid me to go to business school (until I’m willing and ready... on my own terms).

P.S. Below is a video I shot as I was getting ready... if you have problems viewing on here, you can also check it out on my facebook page!

Being vegan is a piece of cake when you're sick... because you aren't eating anything anyway. So Day #6 was a breeze. I had a lot of fruit, some more saltines, and drank a lot of liquid...

Ok, so this whole vegan week has been an upset since I've been sick for most of it. So I don't have any crazy pictures or videos for you.

I've been in bed for the majority of the time I've been awake. Yesterday I couldn't even get out of bed because I was so dizzy and still had super yucky chills... and then a blazing hot fever.

I did go to the doc yesterday, though, and got some antiobiotics. Turns out I have strep! Ew. Boo. Fail. Negative. Yuck.

So... today I'm feeling a little bit better.

I did, for the first time in however many days (I'm losing track of what has happened in the last couple of days), look in my freezer of vegan "treats." I pulled out a banana-nut muffin. I heated it and ate it. Honestly, they shouldn't label things if they don't really taste like what they say they are. It would have been better had they called it a "banana nut starchless mochi cake." See, at that point, I would have been utterly confused and not known what to expect. And by that mere lack of expectation, I would have ate it and been like "hmmm... that's interesting... weird texture, but not bad." But since they labeled it a "muffin," I expected a buttery, moist, muffin. But alas, it was not. Now, to be honest, I actually was OK with it since I like mochi and other such chewy delites... but it didn't meet my expectation of a muffin. Hence, why I've dedicated a blog to this subject.

So here's the lesson for today, if I ever want to make something vegan and have someone like it... don't tell them what it's supposed to be... just tell them what it really is... e.g. "It's not 'chicken,' it's spruced-up tofu," or "it's not a 'pancake,' it's... 'panbread' - a chewy, bread-like substance, flavored with cinnamon... which you may or may not like and should not be confused with a pancake in any way shape or form" (Can you tell I'm still bitter about the disgusting pancake I ate the other day?). Honesty is the best policy.

Life is all about expectations. It sucks to be disappointed.