I hate flying. Seriously hate it. I was on a plane from Kythera to Athens when I was 10, a wee twin-prop effort, when it dropped a fair distance out of the sky before carrying on. No harm, no foul, we reached our destination fine and got back to the UK unscathed, but it put me off big time.
I remember turning to my mum the next time we got on a plane and telling her that I was not just scared, but "terrified". I clearly remember being very calm and sensible, but also being clear on the fact that I was terrified. She laughed at me (the woman who'd flown Dan Air in her time, on the Kangaroo Route over Australia), and told me not to be silly. I sat for the rest of the flight feeling sick and sweaty until we got to Girona airport, and then didn't bother saying anything on the way home, feeling like there was no point mentioning it.
The last flight I got with her was the last flight I got for a very long time. 14 years, in fact. I put off holidays that involved planes for longer than she was my mother, stupidly enough.
My sister had mentioned that my aunt has a cheeky valium and G&T when she flies, and being concerned that I was letting EX-BASTARD down in some way, I decided to try it. I hate relying on anything other than myself, but it worked, I got on a plane! I may have burst into tears once the Fasten Seatbelts light went out, but I did it, dammit.
For the last few years, I had EX-BASTARD to hold my hand, or Katherine to distract me with talk of deep-fried cheesecake (seriously) and Kate, Rachel and Claire plied me with booze before our trip to Crete. But now I want to go away, and for the first time I'm doing it myself and I'm a bit scared.
I'm supposed to go away next month, and for the longest time I've been putting off booking the flights. I've been making excuses as to why I haven't booked them, stupid things like not being sure about holidays, money, waiting for payday, whatever, they're stupid. Last night I was talking to Mindy about trying to sort out a visit, and I was telling her about Prague, and she was asking when I was going, and that maybe she'd come and meet me, and I realised that I need to book them because if I don't, I'll spend two weeks in Glasgow faffing about and doing nothing apart from missing out.
So I did it, I've booked the seat I feel most comfortable in, and I'm away to Amsterdam to see Lucy, Hamburg to visit Cassia, Berlin because Berlin and I'll be catching up with Mindy in Prague to round it off beautifully. I am still a little bit scared, but I'm excited as fuck and cannot wait to go on an adventure.
Basically, I'm awesome, and you should all bow before me, bitches.
I remember turning to my mum the next time we got on a plane and telling her that I was not just scared, but "terrified". I clearly remember being very calm and sensible, but also being clear on the fact that I was terrified. She laughed at me (the woman who'd flown Dan Air in her time, on the Kangaroo Route over Australia), and told me not to be silly. I sat for the rest of the flight feeling sick and sweaty until we got to Girona airport, and then didn't bother saying anything on the way home, feeling like there was no point mentioning it.
The last flight I got with her was the last flight I got for a very long time. 14 years, in fact. I put off holidays that involved planes for longer than she was my mother, stupidly enough.
My sister had mentioned that my aunt has a cheeky valium and G&T when she flies, and being concerned that I was letting EX-BASTARD down in some way, I decided to try it. I hate relying on anything other than myself, but it worked, I got on a plane! I may have burst into tears once the Fasten Seatbelts light went out, but I did it, dammit.
For the last few years, I had EX-BASTARD to hold my hand, or Katherine to distract me with talk of deep-fried cheesecake (seriously) and Kate, Rachel and Claire plied me with booze before our trip to Crete. But now I want to go away, and for the first time I'm doing it myself and I'm a bit scared.
I'm supposed to go away next month, and for the longest time I've been putting off booking the flights. I've been making excuses as to why I haven't booked them, stupid things like not being sure about holidays, money, waiting for payday, whatever, they're stupid. Last night I was talking to Mindy about trying to sort out a visit, and I was telling her about Prague, and she was asking when I was going, and that maybe she'd come and meet me, and I realised that I need to book them because if I don't, I'll spend two weeks in Glasgow faffing about and doing nothing apart from missing out.
So I did it, I've booked the seat I feel most comfortable in, and I'm away to Amsterdam to see Lucy, Hamburg to visit Cassia, Berlin because Berlin and I'll be catching up with Mindy in Prague to round it off beautifully. I am still a little bit scared, but I'm excited as fuck and cannot wait to go on an adventure.
Basically, I'm awesome, and you should all bow before me, bitches.
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