Fly, Fly Away
I was reading a post at Leese's blog about airports and the emotional reaction and her childhood redux:
It's a really insightful and well thought explained story. On my side of things, airports have never really had that much of a profound effect on me, but I have been affected.
I used to fly relatively frequently to see my grandparents in Florida. It was usually once a year or so, up until the end of high school and when my parents split up (these weren't completely concurrent).
A side note: this is why my posting has been later than usual for my three faithful readers. I'm down here now because my grandmother is very sick and in the hospital. Today was actually the first day she was able to speak for any period of time. She's an 89 year old spit-fire and the most unbelievably "tough old broad" (her words exactly tonite). In fact, she's probably one of the toughest people I know across the board. I'm pretty proud to say I have a little bit of her blood in me.
Anyway, over time and a decent amount of bad flights, which are easily attributable to my mantra of Murphy's Law (is it sewn onto my forehead?), I began to develop a few misgivings about Bernouli's theorem. Read that as I began to turn into the four-grade-girl-who-just-saw-a-mouse-but-doesn't-want-to-scream when I fly. So as I white knuckle my way into the sky, forget what moisture feels like in my throat, and locate my nearest exits and lovely white vomit bags, I always wonder, why am I flying? This time I had a good reason and solid motivation, but generally that isn't always the case. I just wish it wasn't so bad for me, because I actually like going places, and I like coming home. I just don't want to take 5 years off my life from ridiculous anxiety. I mean, really, what am I going to do if something goes badly, fly the plane? Flap my arms? Use my massive powers of telekinesis to deliver a multi-ton plane and its passengers to the ground?
For those that don't understand and think I am that little girl, I envy you. In the meantime, I'll make sure to either run up the airport bar tab, or see if my doc will allow me a few tranquilizers to see the world. Either way, bottoms up!
To me, airports represent two kinds of emotions: joy and sadness. I get happy whenever I pick someone up from the airport. I get really sad whenever I have to drop someone off at the airport.
It's a really insightful and well thought explained story. On my side of things, airports have never really had that much of a profound effect on me, but I have been affected.
I used to fly relatively frequently to see my grandparents in Florida. It was usually once a year or so, up until the end of high school and when my parents split up (these weren't completely concurrent).
A side note: this is why my posting has been later than usual for my three faithful readers. I'm down here now because my grandmother is very sick and in the hospital. Today was actually the first day she was able to speak for any period of time. She's an 89 year old spit-fire and the most unbelievably "tough old broad" (her words exactly tonite). In fact, she's probably one of the toughest people I know across the board. I'm pretty proud to say I have a little bit of her blood in me.
Anyway, over time and a decent amount of bad flights, which are easily attributable to my mantra of Murphy's Law (is it sewn onto my forehead?), I began to develop a few misgivings about Bernouli's theorem. Read that as I began to turn into the four-grade-girl-who-just-saw-a-mouse-but-doesn't-want-to-scream when I fly. So as I white knuckle my way into the sky, forget what moisture feels like in my throat, and locate my nearest exits and lovely white vomit bags, I always wonder, why am I flying? This time I had a good reason and solid motivation, but generally that isn't always the case. I just wish it wasn't so bad for me, because I actually like going places, and I like coming home. I just don't want to take 5 years off my life from ridiculous anxiety. I mean, really, what am I going to do if something goes badly, fly the plane? Flap my arms? Use my massive powers of telekinesis to deliver a multi-ton plane and its passengers to the ground?
For those that don't understand and think I am that little girl, I envy you. In the meantime, I'll make sure to either run up the airport bar tab, or see if my doc will allow me a few tranquilizers to see the world. Either way, bottoms up!
posted by Johnny5 at
12:21 AM
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