I interrupt my previously scheduled blog break
to bring this important announcement:
No one flies worse than I do.
No one.
Yesterday morning, we flew from Newark to North Carolina to visit with my inlaws.
The flight was two hours.
As soon as we board the flight, the captain, who looks like he could be my 7 year old's classmate, apologizes for it being so hot on the plane, but he felt that it would give us a good preview of the climate in hell. Or, more accurately, it was hot because the "back engine isn't working, but we don't need it to fly." WHAT? I'm no aerodynamics expert, but have I been wrong all these years in assuming that back engines are not purely ornamental? At the very least, they're "back up", right?
So, then he announces that "Miss Courtney" is our flight attendant and that if we have any requests, we should direct them to her. Yes, my request is that the flight attendant not have a name tht suggests that she's running a whorehouse, please. And a working back engine, if you can swing it.
Then we go through the emergency evacuation speech and I notice that I'm the only one who's paying attention. Which of course makes me feel like I'm responsible for everyone's safety if something should happen. Just their physical salvation, of course, because I'm pretty sure that the guy across the aisle from me, gripping the Bible, will take care of the spiritual part.
And in the middle of "if you need to evacuate the plane" spiel, which always sounds a bit like what if mid-flight you suddenly realize that you forgot to pack your favorite pair of PJs and need to deplane, I get the same thought that I always get on the plane. I tap my husband on the shoulder, "I want to put the life vest on now," I tell him. Because really? All those directions about how to do it are so freaking confusing to me and I generally need practice with most garments, so I can't imagine that in an emergency I'll get it right on the first try. Seriously, all kidding aside, doesn't it make sense to travel in the life vest so that that's one less thing that you have to worry about? And do you know what my soulmate says to me?
Not: "That's an excellent idea, love of my life, thank you for suggesting it."
Not: "Your mind is exactly what this country needs. Goodness knows how many lives you've just saved!"
Not: "How someone can be so gorgeous, kind-hearted, smart and practical is beyond me!"
Not Even: "The chances of a crash are so low,I don't think it's necessary."
This is what he said: "Go ahead, if you want to look ridiculous."
Is it me, or are the divorce papers writing themselves?
Yeah, we'll see who looks ridiculous as the plane is kamikazing towards the Hudson, and I am the only one who can enjoy my whole life flashing before my eyes without the distraction of struggling with the vest.
By the way, how come the life vests come only in orange? Because it sort of clashes with my freckles.
No one flies worse than I do.
No one.
Yesterday morning, we flew from Newark to North Carolina to visit with my inlaws.
The flight was two hours.
As soon as we board the flight, the captain, who looks like he could be my 7 year old's classmate, apologizes for it being so hot on the plane, but he felt that it would give us a good preview of the climate in hell. Or, more accurately, it was hot because the "back engine isn't working, but we don't need it to fly." WHAT? I'm no aerodynamics expert, but have I been wrong all these years in assuming that back engines are not purely ornamental? At the very least, they're "back up", right?
So, then he announces that "Miss Courtney" is our flight attendant and that if we have any requests, we should direct them to her. Yes, my request is that the flight attendant not have a name tht suggests that she's running a whorehouse, please. And a working back engine, if you can swing it.
Then we go through the emergency evacuation speech and I notice that I'm the only one who's paying attention. Which of course makes me feel like I'm responsible for everyone's safety if something should happen. Just their physical salvation, of course, because I'm pretty sure that the guy across the aisle from me, gripping the Bible, will take care of the spiritual part.
And in the middle of "if you need to evacuate the plane" spiel, which always sounds a bit like what if mid-flight you suddenly realize that you forgot to pack your favorite pair of PJs and need to deplane, I get the same thought that I always get on the plane. I tap my husband on the shoulder, "I want to put the life vest on now," I tell him. Because really? All those directions about how to do it are so freaking confusing to me and I generally need practice with most garments, so I can't imagine that in an emergency I'll get it right on the first try. Seriously, all kidding aside, doesn't it make sense to travel in the life vest so that that's one less thing that you have to worry about? And do you know what my soulmate says to me?
Not: "That's an excellent idea, love of my life, thank you for suggesting it."
Not: "Your mind is exactly what this country needs. Goodness knows how many lives you've just saved!"
Not: "How someone can be so gorgeous, kind-hearted, smart and practical is beyond me!"
Not Even: "The chances of a crash are so low,I don't think it's necessary."
This is what he said: "Go ahead, if you want to look ridiculous."
Is it me, or are the divorce papers writing themselves?
Yeah, we'll see who looks ridiculous as the plane is kamikazing towards the Hudson, and I am the only one who can enjoy my whole life flashing before my eyes without the distraction of struggling with the vest.
By the way, how come the life vests come only in orange? Because it sort of clashes with my freckles.
Labels: fellow traveller
posted by Marinka at
9:51 AM
13 Comments:
I was perusing that little laminated emergency instruction thing while I was flying over the ocean last week thinking, if this thing starts going down no one is going to pull this out and read this, we are all so screwed.
I also thought "aren't we dead the second it hits the water anyways? why bother?"
have a safe trip home.
"I'm no expert...." CRACKED ME UP!! I hate to fly as well. That's why God invented valium and vodka.
You made it there, didn't you? And does the flight there travel over much water anyway? I wouldn't have thought so, so I have to say that, while a tad insensitive, Husbandrinka's response might have closely mirrored my own.
Sorry. I still love you.
I HATE to fly. I'm much better than I used to be, but still hate it. I spend the whole 9 hour flight imagining us crashing into the ocean.
HATE IT! Sometimes I wish hubby had a different job. Or that people would come to visit us.
The Hubs was JUST making fun of me for thinking that we needed to buy those fancy little five-point harness things for the older children. Because, you know, if the plane goes down, it's more practical to have them firmly pinned in their seats.
My Hon might be your equal. Only his tactic is to pop a couple Valium before we get on the flight, make sure he physically meets the captain (ya' know, so the captain will know there are real people on the plane) and promptly pass out once his rear end hits the seat.
The girls LOVED his comments when he "came-to" on our trip to Florida last year. Me, I pretended I didn't know the man the flight attendants were yelling at to, "Sit down until the plane comes to a complete stop!" while he stood and looked out the window, slurring, "I LOVE palm trees!"
I think I might have demanded to deplane at the announcement of the backup engine's demise. You seem to have remained incredibly calm in the face of such terrifying news.
And, Insta-mom? Tell your husband the 5-point harness isn't as much about saving THEIR lives in a crash as it is about saving YOUR lives during the flight because THEY CAN'T GET OUT OF THEIR SEATS!!!
NO
BACK ENGINE?!? Eh?
Don't worry. The massive trauma from impact makes those vests all but useless.
See, I can be encouraging.
I am new to your blog and I have to say I also want to try on the vests, firstly just to make sure its one size fits all and I can get it around my boobs, secondly I want to practice putting the loop around my waist and and pulling the toggle just to make sure it inflates and thirdly just to make sure there actually is one under my seat and the cleaner hasn't taken it for his weekend rafting!
Madge--I don't think that we're dead as soon as we hit the water. I'm assuming that our pilot is trained in hydroplaning and that we're very much alive when the alligators lunge towards us. I'm an optimist, I guess!
Vodka--Amen! But I'm very drugaphobic and am afraid that drinking before noon is bad form. I'm practically Miss Manners!
Maura-- DeadToMe. ;)
Kylie--I know how you feel! It's exhausting.
Insta-Mom--lol!
Sonya--I love the "I love palm trees!" comment. You know, I noticed that flight phobic people are usually married to normal people. It must be some kind of natural selection or something. Because if I were married to your husband, we'd probably be homebound. Or addicted to Xanax or something. Hey, that doesn't sound so bad! He should totally call me!
Psych--I KNOW!
Tracey--Now we know that it is strictly optional. Like when you put together one of those Lego things and have left over pieces? It's OK!
Heinous--but won't the vest keep me warm at least?
Heather--you make excellent points. However, I learned that we are not supposed to inflate it until we're floating or something. I always make sure that there is one underneath my seat. Not everyone does that?!
pilot questions??
just direct them towards my husband...
he answers my dumb questions on a daily basis...and i'm not saying that your questions would potentially be dumb at all! i'm just saying that i tend to ask really dumb plane related questions. like...how in the world does it get in the sky (on a daily basis)?
new to your blog and this post made me laugh outloud! my husband is similar to one of the other husbands... he times when to take the valium so that by the time we take off, he "wants to be drooling". and why do i have the flights from hell with our daughter (14 months old) and when he is with us - yeah- extra set of hands- she is an angel and asks why i make such a big deal about it. typical man.
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