It's odd that I keep traveling. Since the divorce, I've flown more than I ever could have imagined. Back when I was married, flying terrified me. Maybe because I was trying so hard to keep that jumbo jet of a marriage up in the air and knew it was going down.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm Sorry But
due to the turbulence, there won't be any beverage service." These are words I hate to hear when I fly. I'm a reformed nervous flier and the thought of not being able to have a drink when I think a drink might be just what I need inches me a tiny bit closer to the old self I'd like to stay rid of. I found myself on edge today flying back from Portland as soon as I neared the end of the "A" gates. Outside the rain splattered windows were small airplanes with propellers and the sky was as thick and gray as a week's worth of dryer lint. Noooooooo, the anxious me said to the me who was trying to be calm and I thought about rushing back to ticketing to see if I could get on a different flight which probably would have been a simple matter, but I'd checked my bag. So instead, I sat and looked at the people around me. High school athletes with trophies, business people, families with babies. They looked calm and happy so I got on the plane (which didn't have propellers) and felt passable until the announcement about the beverages. I pulled out a lollipop and started sucking, stuck my ipod in my ears and listened to poetry podcasts, reminded myself to keep my eyes open and look out the window. I did ok. Not stellar, but fine.