by AnnMarie McGovern-Theriault

Created on: January 31, 2009

You can not imagine. I got on the plane, apprehensive of course. Everyone knows I hate to fly. I walk on to the plane and funny this time I can see the pilot and I make eye contact with him because hey, this is my life here and I hate to fly. He nods back actually, he is like hitting on me with his eyes. He waves and I go down the isle and sit in my seat. Its great, everything is great. The pilot comes on the speaker he says we have to wait on the runway. I have already announced to everyone about me that I hate to fly. The guy infront of me is not excited about this... especially when I start to recite that "I'm on a bus, I'm on a bus, I'm on a bus."

On this particular flight I am traveling with my x husband to go to see my son deploy to Iraq and I think "What am I a wimp, My son is deploying to the big sand box and I am afraid to fly 2 hours to see him". I'm mean to myself when I get wimpy. Funny thing is that traveling with my x is like traveling with someone with Alzheimer's. Although he lived with me for 13 years he never took the time to know me and he says that we are sitting separately because he knew I wanted to sit by the window. "What" I exclaim, "Are ya nuts". He doesn't remember me at all. I don't care, I was hoping I could sit with some one from my planet that knew me so if I grabbed your arm at take off you would at least expect it. Instead the whole row beside me is empty. Do you think they knew I was on the plane? Now I am angry, I knew my x didn't want to sit with me. He has a huge ego and maybe I'm not his type. All I know is I am hating this flight, or non flight so far. It took forever for us to leave the ground. So I start to write a poem. I hate to fly, I don't have wings, Like bats or bugs or other things, and I don't like the window seat, though THOSE might think it quite a treat. It had more words and I can not think of them off the top of my head.

We take off and I am just great till I realize I am not on a bus and though I had downed 3 bloody Mary's in the bar before the flight, it is only 6 am, I am suddenly sober. This is my usual experience flying. No I don't scream, or carry on, I just hang tightly on to my Rosary beads and forget the prayers that go with the beads. Though I beg not to sit by the window, I constantly look out, because I want to see the clouds that look just like cherubs, I really do. Then, turbulence and what the Hell is turbulence anyway. We get up into the land of the straight air and I am fine for a while. Til its time to go down and we play the same game all over again. While I hear my x husband giggling up front. He loves to fly. Another reason we are not married anymore.

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