When I was six, my dad took off an overseas work trip that took him to Japan and Hong Kong. He was only gone for 10 days -- it seemed like an eternity -- and when it was time for him to come home, my mom carted me and my sister down to SFO to welcome him home.

I'd only been on airplanes a handful of times in my life and viewed all airline travel as inherently glamorous and cool. As we stepped on to the escalator at the International Terminal, all that glamour and cool magnified tenfold as I starred at the beautiful stewardesses jetting to and from the gates in their chic suits and perfectly coiffed hair. If I had thought the flight attendants on Southwest were cool, the elegant ladies of Pan Am and Cathay Pacific set a whole new level of life to aspire to. I immediately informed my mom that I was going to put my ballerina plans on hold and be a stewardess when I grew up.