I can think of several key things that have happened in my life on a July 23rd. However, this particular July 23rd is particularly noteworthy. I would venture to say that fireworks might even be appropriate. If I’d thought ahead, I’d be sitting here wearing my crown.

You see, on this fine day…. after a grueling 4:30am wake-up call….the usual schlep to the airport…a goodbye kiss from Soenke… an early flight to Frankfurt….hours loitering in Terminal B waiting for the standby list to be processed… I, yes I, Miss Jennifer Dale Crawford, achieved one of the Top Goals in my life. Nay, not a world-changing goal, nothing that will bring peace to the Middle East, nothing that will combat world hunger, but a worthy goal nonetheless for a full-blooded, diehard Travel Diva. I had finally reached the top of the peak of Traveldom. And it culminated with just 10 steps up those steep stairs…inside the Lufthansa flight #456 jumbo jet bound for Los Angeles…

Yes, my friends, it’s true.

I finally did it.

To the accompaniment of angels’ harps and heavenly music, fanning palm fronds and much applause, I proudly and deliberately – almost in slow motion – handed my RED BOARDING PASS to the smiling Lufthansa flight attendant, and was granted access to the INNER SANCTUM OF TRAVEL with a sweep of her arm and a knowing tilt of her head… “aha, Frau Crawford, please join us UPSTAAAAAIRS…”

< < INSERT HEAVENLY ANGEL MUSIC AND PALM FRONDS HERE! >>…

With every step upstairs to the first class cabin, I smiled, waved, cheered, made the “V” victory sign with my fingers, the thumbs-up sign too, gave Tony Blair a call for good measure, alerted Condé Nast magazine, and had my photo snapped by 500 paparazzi waiting in the plane.

It was simply incredible.

I was finally IN THE UPSTAIRS, FIRST CLASS CABIN. I even had a seat assignment. Seat 82K - which initially worried me – usually high seat numbers mean 6 inches of legroom and 4 crying babies nearby, but the gate agent had assured me “Es ist oben!” (it is upstairs!).

Super-rich lunatics who had shelled out upwards of $10,000 for a seat upstairs were already chilling in their comfy first-class seats. But for me, Soenke’s unbelievable employee rate had far fewer zeros!

I was greeted by a fresh red rose and chilled first-class champagne (which I ruefully declined in favor of my boring but effective anti-jet-lag formula: water, water and more water). My seat was huge and expanded into a completely flat bed. Even the armrests were huge. I got a big fluffy comforter. The food was utterly outstanding (although I passed on the caviar - bleah!). I had hoped maybe there would be live entertainment or a personal greeting from the pilots, but no such luck. With total lack of inhibition, I snapped photos of me, my rose, my personal video screen, Greenland below, and the First Class sign.

Possibly the peak of the peak was when I inserted my personally-selected video in my seat-side VCR……no, not Brokeback Mountain… nay, not the acclaimed Geisha movie…. This was BETTER, FINER, AND BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS: It was from the 2005 Salzburg Music Festival in Austria.. the hottest opera ticket on earth last year…. Verdi’s La Traviata with super-sexy Anna Netrebko and über-romantic Rolando Villazon! I didn’t even know the video existed. Ever the Paris party girl, character Violetta flounced around the stage in either a shiny red party dress or a sheer white nightie… in the beginning scenes, she was drunk on champagne, carried around on a fire-engine red sofa by her tuxedoed admirers (think, Madonna’s “Material Girl” video)… her lover Alfredo also donned a tux but surprisingly stripped down to his boxers for the playfully-rendered “country house” scene. Especially notable – although every scene was stunning - he performed an utterly convincing and moving demonstration of rage towards the end when he hurled Violetta’s money back in her face…even stuffed it in her dress.. and flung himself on the ground, his fury spent. The ticking clock was the main equipment on stage…. showing how time mercilessly ticked away for Violetta, who dies in the end. The singing – beautiful! full of emotion! I clapped along with the audience after the best scenes. Could life be better at this moment???!!!!

THANK YOU BABE, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

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My favorite 3 words!

Feeling no pain…

Admiring our reflection while we taxi:

Enjoying Ice Age 2 on my personal video system:

Hey, there’s Greenland!

Much warmer in the California desert:

Welcome to LA… and smog!

Nothing quite like seeing my nephews again!

And, of course, having a shrimp taco fix!

Sofia, Bulgaria: The city of dangerous sidewalks. Where gorgeous Eastern-European women somehow strut around in stilettos and never break stride. Where I, yet a lowly inexperienced Westerner, strut around in utterly flat sandals with my eyes glued to the sidewalk - hoping not to face-plant when the next loose tile taunts my equilibrium.

I don’t know why the sidewalks are so *#$’d up. But they are – every inch of them. Which makes it hard to window shop, because you can’t safely lift your eyes high enough to focus on the windows. Soenke kept his arm firmly glued around my body the entire time we were there, preventing bruised and bleeding knees (thanks babe). Being a man, he also noticed that these agile-footed Eastern European women are pretty darn hot – and they like to flaunt it! This observation earned him my fingernails dug deeeeeeep into his arm every time a Bulgarian Betty crossed our path….

After I adjusted to the dangerous walking program and tricky women, I set out to enjoy the city. It is truly apparent that Sofia suffered both cosmetically and emotionally under Communist rule – and is still recovering. On the way into the city from the airport, dreary block-style apartment buildings line the road. The city center provides some visual improvement. Western stores have arrived, but have a feeling of not belonging. The city’s top shopping mall is overpriced and largely deserted. The historic buildings - such as the Sheraton Hotel in which we stayed - are well kept. The centerpiece Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is stunning from the outside, but its interior is faded and in need of renovation. The Byzantine ruins scattered through the city are pretty cool, and you can really feel that the locals have HEART - I wish with all my own heart that Sofia will bounce back to its pre-Communist glory days.

On the upside, the food was fresh, plentiful, tasty, and mega cheap! Our first dinner was a 3-course feast for EUR 8 total. Yes, TOTAL - for 2. And that included drinks. A signature dish in Sofia is the oven-to-table casserole: a small trough-like earthenware dish containing your grub (meat, veggies) which has been popped in the oven… then later placed on an iron rack and delivered piping hot to your table. I myself opted for the Bulgarian rice plate – full of fresh veggies topped with cheese. Other tempting menu items included “Nervous Meatballs”, “Sterilized Cucumbers”, “Chilly Peppers” (a misnomer, since these were HOT), and “Macho Salad”.

The city’s main park offered some one-of-a-kind shopping for aficionados of Communist and Third Reich memorabilia: a Russky fur hat with hammer-and-sickle emblem; a wide assortment of Nazi booze flasks, WW2 medals, tacky Stalin paintings, and much more. Also available was the biggest array of iconic souvenir paintings I’ve ever seen; surely there is not an inch of unused gold leaf left in Bulgaria! I saved my Bulgarian Levas for that “perfect find”, which unfortunately never seemed to materialize…

I left Sofia feeling a little bewildered and unsatisfied. Something was definitely missing from our experience. Next time I will find myself a crusty Bulgarian taxi driver and hire him for an entire afternoon of “Insider Sofia”…. I think the real Bulgaria is lying somewhere beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered!

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Not so easy to read the street signs in Sofia!:

Some interesting city architecture:

Browsing the outdoor markets:

The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral:

An artist’s kitschy rendition of the old “Trabi” cars of the Eastern bloc:

We are always happy!:

A city tram heads up the main drag:

We enjoy our typical sightseeing break:

In the courtyard of the Sheraton & the Presidential buildings is this Byzantine ruin:

Even kids enjoy the ruins!:

Recovering from the action: