I Hate Flying.

Like I seriously hate flying. The intense fear started when I had Ethan; so over 19 years ago. Before I was fearless. But after, I always felt like I was putting myself in a unsafe situation which was really irresponsible as a parent. Wacko right? Some of the other things I hate about flying. Pre-planning. I have to find ONE quart sized bag and then maybe fit all of my stuff liquid or cream into that bag. This surfaces how high maintenance I am, and puts it on display for other people to see. I don't want anyone to see I need to have nail glue, or stress relieving oil, or three different kinds of lip gloss to create my perfect shade! But, it all has to go into that stupid bag. Next, what am I going to wear to not set off the alarm, and will be easy for someone to pat down if I again get pulled out of the line. When I was 21 (and super skinny btw) I got pulled out of the line for a pat down. I was wearing a jean mini skirt,  aka jean belt, and a wife beater... not much I could hide, but my bra underwire set off the alarm. 😑. Moving on to my shoes.. is it cold? Too bad, I'm wearing flip flops cause I have to take those suckers off to get on a damn plane. My anxiety is up just writing this down! So we finally get through security, and the lady staring at me and my passport, cause ya, I go on planes with my passport! She looks at me, looks at my picture, looks at me! Holy Moly! First priority is find a bar cause I can't swallow my Xanax without some sort of alcohol.  Phoenix Sky Harbor Terminal 4 is legit, lots of bars. All other terminals need to up their game.For some reason I have that face, that face that makes solo passengers think they need to talk to me, tell me where they are going, tell me where they have been; and I am way too nice.  

Time to get on the plane...like a herd of cattle, and everyone wants to be first to slaughter. I don't fucking care, go ahead of me.. I'm still getting on before you cause my stupid little pass says so. I like to sit in the window cause I am apparently super claustrophobic. Friends helped me figure this out, and its the truth unfortunately.  But, by the window means climbing over people cause I just had 2 bloody mary's and a beer and now I have to pee. Yes, I'll have a jack and coke now. Thanks. Stewardesses are cranky. I always image they are waiting for some excitement, like an inflight collision, or a fire, or the landing gear sticking. Lately storms follow me inflight, making it so fun. I love being in the dark, in a cloud, 34,000 feet above ground, and being thrown around in my seat. Where is my jack and coke? I love sharing a bathroom that is too small for my 5'2" frame. So that 6'2" 250 pound guy... good luck. I love germs. #sarcasm. Lately my pilots love an exciting landing. I image they are yelling "coming in hot!" in the cockpit and hitting the tarmac sideways, or so fast they have to slam the breaks and burn rubber. I looked at a guy next to me recently and said "that is not normal, do you smell that?" poor guy. I do consistently wonder what the people around me think about me praying, and saying "oh Jesus" out loud...about every 5 minutes! And I do praise Jesus, and text my family and friends every time I land so they know I survived again. But, I have to fly, again and again cause I don't think I can convince Jeremy to drive to NYC.