exorcisms for everyone

Ann and Dylan arrived promptly (five minutes early) at 7.10 to chauffer me to the airport. I had decided that I needed to arrive the full two hours before my flight left because of all the new security restrictions. And what with it being LD weekend and all, I figured it would take a gazillion years to get through the cattle chute. Uh. Yeah. It took five minutes.

I don’t really know why, but for the past few years flying has started freaking me out. I didn’t used to think about it and then slowly over time, it’s started freaking me out more and more. It’s normal now for me to think, the moment I sit down in my seat, ‘Ok. This is the day I die. It will be horrible and fiery and painful, but it is going to happen.’ Today, I added this, ‘And there’re no large bodies of water between Denver and Chicago so it’s going to be extremely painful.’

Nice, huh?

Every bump and weird noise makes me nervous and the longer it takes to get off the runway, the more sure I am that something is going to go horribly awry and the plane will explode halfway between here and there.

Then, once the plane is off the ground, I’m fine.


There’s a father and son sitting next to me. The kid is by the window with the father in between. When I first sit down, I swear the kid is speaking in tounges; either that or I have suddenly lost my ability to comprehend English. I can’t understand a word that is coming out of his mouth. I’m sure it’s just some foreign language that I am unfamiliar with, but at any minute, I still expect his head to start spinning around and green foam to start spewing out of his mouth.

I think they’re Russian.

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