Live Blogging the Trip (first leg)

It's been a rough night.

Leaving for the airport is never easy when you are leaving loved ones, even if you are headed toward more loved ones. Leaving "Boo Boo" (DJ) hurt so bad that it knocked all the breath right out of me. I was doing a decent job of holding it together until he had a meltdown in the driveway.

Not  DJ
But I'm just saying

OH! Damnit, that kid broke my heart.

I won't go into how badly I cried off all my makeup once I made it past saying goodbye to my niece and nephew who brought me to the airport. It took both of them, yes: one to drive and onee to keep me from leaping out of the car and running back to Boo Boo.

Not me
But I'm just saying

Now a word about the American Airline phone app my niece had me download beforehand: This was a mixed experience. Trying to use the app to view my flights was tricky (and never actually worked), but once I did get it to show my "mobile boarding pass," things got good. For one thing, it was nice not to have to worry about keeping track of another piece of paper (even though I had a moment of wondering where that piece of paper was). The best part? Using the mobile pass to sail right through the TSA checkpoint.

Let me stop and tell you the worst part (for me) of going through airport security (I mean, other than the possibility of having to throw out makeup, lotions and potions that go over the allowed amount). For me, the very worst part is the shoe drop. Taking off my shoes around people who don't know me, love me, and won't run screaming from the callus on my right heel... Well, this is stressful.

Not only did I not have to take my shoes off but, because I am too lazy and absent-minded to carry and keep track of more than my backpack as a carry-on, I didn't have to submit to any kind of hassle. I just waltzed right through that scanner and went on my way. Nice. Saved me so much time.

Not my feet
But I'm just saying

With all the time I did save, I was able to get started early on my phobic fantasies of wings falling off the plane midair.

Another good part of the mobile boarding pass is that it's easy to keep track of. Also, it updates with gate changes and such. Super cool. Just super.

The flight was (thank my God in heaven!) uneventful. The worst thing I can say about actually flying that first leg is that the attendants were forgettable. I think I saw one of them crack a smile before she realized she had broken the rules by doing so... Also, I have to say that the airplane was one of the dirtiest I've been on. Dingy, grimy and raggedy seatbacks and dust that just seem to float in the air and stick in my throat.

I had a window seat so I got to cry some more as I watched Alaska disappear from sight. The ladies sitting on row with me were cool and I was embarrassed when they remarked that the plane seemed like one from the early 20th century. ~sigh~ They were a couple of either best best best friends or lovers. They are on their way from a visit to Alaska to a visit to New York. They had Polish (I think) accents and they were very funny when we all noticed the food prices on the on-board menu. There was a decent looking picture of an expensive pastrami sandwich. For what it cost, I'd do better to fly out and have lunch with Guy Fieri. (What is with me and all the Guy references lately?)

At any rate, I've had bad experiences with the way real food actually looks like no matter how good the photos are. For the price of airline food, I'm not letting my wallet take any chances.

Not the airline food.
But I'm just saying

The food was out of the question so I opted for a cup of coffee. I needed something to counteract the crying, wine and Valium. Too bad the coffee was only a poor imitation of anything that should legally being labeled and sold as coffee. It was brown, I'll say that much. Mostly, it was a lukewarm tea-like concoction. And I am insulting tea by even making the comparison. Like I said, it was brown.

I had a moment of panic when we started making the descent into DFW. There was some floaty-tippy-rocky kind of movement that lasted long enough to make that awful coffee bounce around in my gut. I calmed down long enough to say a lot of prayers and compose dramatic goodbye letters in my head to my family. Then we just landed.

Right now, I am in the Admiral's Club, drinking real coffee and using up all the wi-fi I can to play Farmville 2. (I knew Facebook would come in handy somehow, someday.)

Seven and half more hours to kill. I'll blog the next leg of the flight when it comes around...

Peace
--Free

The Fear of... Everything

Because I'm going to be out of blogging space for a while, I thought I better rack up a couple posts to fill up the dead air. (?) I don't even know what that means! Hahaha!

Here's the thing, in addition to my other phobias, I have a fear of flying. Or rather, I have a fear of being in the air encased in a cylinder of metal going faster than I can drive. I'm not sure why I am afraid of flying. It might have to do with the fact flying out of Alaska involves flying over water. Lots of water. Alaska is surrounded by water: oceans, seas, bays, gulfs and straits. Water, water, everywhere.

water...water...water...water...

The problem: I can't swim. I don't even know about floating.

Another fact, even if I could swim, the water is so cold, I'd shiver myself to death before I could take a stroke. Or another stranded passenger would probably drown me for all my onboard hysteria. That's because not only am I afraid of flying, I'm kind of a pain in the ass passenger. If I'm not drunk, sedated or encased in a strait jacket, I tend to freak out fellow flyers.

If you don't believe me about what a wuss I am when it comes to being on an airplane, I have a true story for you:

When I got married and was moving to England, my husband, mother-in-law and I had non-smoking seats in the middle of one of those big airliners. This plane was huge. It had two stories. We were on the lower deck (?), in the middle row of a 7 across seating arrangement. It looked similar to this:

Please let everyone be skinny!

Here's a link with "all you need to know" about one of these newer versions of the plane. I don't know how heavy the plane itself was but, back then (in the early 80's), I'm glad I didn't know that paint adds 650kg to the weight those airliners. That's over 1400 pounds. At least back then, my body only added 95 pounds to all that mass hanging in the air!

Anyway, I had packed my cigarettes into my checked baggage. My husband and MIL weren't smokers. I had no Valium because I was such a rookie. I was leaving my family and going very far away from them for the first time without a return ticket.

I was young and in love. Life felt very adventurous. For about the first twenty minutes airborne. After that, I started crying and couldn't stop. My husband was British so, well, you know. He and his mother were all stiff upper lip and probably mortified that I was starting to make a scene. The flight attendants were all British, of course. I know they were mortified and probably thinking "Twenty minutes down and 17 hours to go. Oy."

I want my Mama!!!

My husband probably starting planning either divorce or murder right then.

At first, my MIL was patient, but I could tell I was starting to freak her out. Even though she was probably praying for a quickie divorce for her son, she did a lot of "There, there, it's going to be fine". Then she began to signal the attendants with her eyes like a hostage trying to signal strangers for help. One of them came over with a really stiff drink. That didn't help. Now I was just a little wasted and crying now.

After about an hour, I saw a couple of the attendants discreetly approaching other passengers to have whispered conversations. I assumed they were talking about me. Of course they were talking about me. That made me cry harder. I thought of being so far from home with a bunch of unfeeling people and their cold, unsalted food. I started plotting my husband's death. Then something wonderful happened. Or it seemed wonderful at the time.

A flight attendant came to me carrying another free drink and a the smallest pack of cigarettes I'd ever seen.

Apparently, even though we were in a non-smoking section, the other passengers had signed a petition and agreed not to kill me if the attendants could get me liquored and nicotine-d up enough to maybe shut up and pass out.

They wished for me to be like this
I wished for this

It worked out for everyone. After a good smoke and four servings of, I don't know - brandy or something that was both sweet and potent- I sniffled my way into a slumber that lasted (I kid you not) my companions woke me to deplane at Heathrow. The longest walk of my life was the one off that plane and past attendants who somehow managed to look sincere as they thanked me for flying British Airways. The Brits are so dang nice, even under the worst circumstances.

Good thing I don't have to do a lot of air travel, right? I'm better at it now. I've learned that a Valium or a drink about half an hour before boarding keeps the worst of my panic under control. Also, I'm not as afraid of dying as I used to be. I won't mind being dead and going to Heaven, but the getting dead part still worries me a bit.

She's not afraid to fly.
Then there's...

...me

I am very pleased to say that for this upcoming trip to Iowa, I did find a solution for the extra-long layover I have to endure. I spoke with the nicest airline rep ever (thank you, Erin Moore of American Airlines in Miami! You rock.) I learned that I can get a really affordable one day pass to lounge in the Admirals Club. As I mentioned to family members, I just have to make sure to find the right outfit comfortable enough to fly in without looking like a scrub when I get to the lounge. I'm thinking black jeans, black top and a my nice boots. Done. Nothing I can do about the wobbly knees except to medicate with liquor.

Again, a big shout out to American for having the Day Passes and for hiring excellent agents like Erin. It's always the reps that make an biggest impression for the company. I have high hopes for the Admirals Club. I've been in Delta's Crown Room and that was nice.

Okay. Now that you know about one of my experiences with flying, I will leave you to shake your head in wonder at how I manage life without a personal handler.

Peace
--Free