Calling Erica Jong! Calling Erica Jong!

I have to fly early this morning and late tonight, and I am looking forward to it about as much as I look forward one day to traveling to a distant planet, getting a good face-sucking by an alien potted plant and then a few days later having a very sharp and pointy creature claw its way out of my chest.

So now you know something else about me: I hate to fly. I dislike it so much that there’ll be no Super Sabado today because I just spent 24 hours trying to make my last day on this earth a useful one.

I know it’s safer to fly than drive… I KNOW THIS. I’ve seen the statistics. But for some reason I’m still quivering, even though I’ve spent the last few months in the passenger seat of my van with my teenager at the wheel, and if that doesn’t squeeze all travel phobia out of my cranial matter, nothing ever will.

In fact, I think it made my phobia worse. The way I see it, I’ve stared Death in the face so often while riding shotgun with Tiger that Death now knows what I look like and is just waiting for an opportune moment to scoop me up… like when I’ll be hurtling through the friendly skies, my cushy derriere perched atop a tank of jet fuel.

So I’ve been stashing things away, filing, and tying up loose ends I’ve let go for months, and why?

Because when I go down in a flaming ball of fusilage, I don’t want Hubby complaining to the widower-chasers that his wife left everything a mess, even though if they looked in the closets they’d see that’s what I really did.

13 Replies to “Calling Erica Jong! Calling Erica Jong!”

  1. Oh, Bonnie, I understand and you have my total sympathy.

    Not only have I been in the passenger seat next to a teenage male who has found himself behind the wheel, but I also have been sent hurtling through the sky at breakneck speed, encased only in an overgrown aluminum beer can.

    Can’t say I’m all that crazy about either scenario, quite frankly, but I think I’d take the teen male driver on terra firma over flying, any day.

    Safe travels, Bonnie.

  2. I do hate the take-off and the landing bit. But the actual in the air, look out the window is okay. You need some retail therapy to make up for this unsettling situation.

  3. I hope whereever you are flying to is worth all the stress ~ šŸ™‚ Have a good time, Bonnie! You’ll be back safe and sound soon!

  4. Nearly everyone suffers some fear when flying, if they’re honest. What settles me is a gin and tonic after take-off. It’ll be all right, Bonnie, it will!

  5. Safe travels, Bonnie and a safer return.

    Toes crossed that all will be well until you get back to family, the kitty and Mojo.

  6. Gee. I like to fly. Of course, I rarely get to and I’ve never run into any problems except for the run-for-your-life-
    with-young-kids-and-baggage-because-your-connection-leaves-
    Atlanta-in-5-minutes-from-the-other-side-of-this-airport-that-is-
    the-size-of-Australia-and-your-husband-is-about-to-throw-up, but
    I’won’t mention that.

  7. God speed, Bonnie. You’ll be back safe and sound because we can’t get along without you. Who else can make us belly laugh so much?

  8. Have you made a WILL?

    I love taking off, it’s an exhilarating/wild blue yonder/ trumpet charge, but…coming in to land, the planes always seem to waddle like a pregnant cow and that terrifies me.

  9. I MADE IT.

    [insert angels singing the “Hallelujah” chorus]

    Ms. Karen, how come we feel this way? We know the statistics say we’re safer in the air than on the freeway, but holy cow, I’d take the kamikaze teenager any day, too.

    Krista, that is such an excellent idea! I bet retail therapy would not only help treat my aviophobia, but all my other little phobias, too, like my house-cleaning-phobia.

    Secret Squirrel, I bet you’re also a Flying Squirrel, too. Am I right?

    Dennie, I sympathize and will be thinking of you on Dec. 1!

    Welshcakes, that gin and tonic was a great idea! But I think I need one before I fly, as well as during. And after, too.

    Kristen! I know that flight to Ireland took FOREVER. I feel like such a coward!

    Portnoy, heh! I think it’ll be easier for me to obtain the gin and tonic, as I hate to go to doctors, almost as much as I hate flying. And that would be iatrophobia, folks. I looked it up!

    Groovy, I remember those days. Now it must be worse, with all the security checkpoints. In fact, I started to hate flying back when our kids were little.

    Lesia, you serve up plenty of belly laughs yourself! That video for Miss Snark is a classic!

    Bernita, yes, we do have a will, but I think it needs to be updated to exclude any and all children who MAKE FUN OF THEIR MOTHER’S FEAR OF FLYING.

    Hmm… waddling pregnant cow… that describes our flight last night. Two seats in two rows were broken, and I wondered what else was broken on that dang plane. Somehow we waddled into the airport safely anyway.

  10. WHAT!?!?! I blog this past week. I make extra effort to be funny and there’s NO SUPER SABADO!?!?

    AAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

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