A Flight to Remember

I'm not typically a nervous flyer. I've done it often enough over the years to actually look forward to the thrill of takeoff and the relief of touchdown.

That being said...it doesn't take a whole lot for me to become a nervous flyer.

I've experienced just about every sort of delay on the ground. Everything from hurricanes to lightning storms to, well, there was that one time when someone on the tarmac backed their truck into a plane. A big plane. A DC-10. How exactly does that happen? And how do you explain that on the insurance incidence report?

I could write a book about the hours I've spent visiting connection cities courtesy of the airlines. An extra night in Phoenix, another in Houston. A night in Chicago where I was greeted in the morning by a cockroach relaxing on the bristles of my toothbrush.

There was that time when Becky and I were coming back from Las Vegas. She was sure that she would break my run of bad airport luck. We boarded the plane on time, pushed away from the gate on schedule. Got in line for takeoff only to discover that one of the computers on the plane required rebooting. Simple enough, except if we went back to the gate, we've have to go through the security procedure. So it seemed like it would just be faster to find a quiet spot of runway to stop and reboot - but that's easier said than done in Sin City. Three hours later they finally got the computer rebooted - just in time to discover that we didn't have enough gas to get back to Cleveland. So in the end, we had to go to the gate anyways. So...four hours later...

Then how about the time my mom and I were flying back from Denver. We boarded on time, pushed back from the gate - even flew across the Midwest with time on our side. And then, on final approach, a snow storm closed the Cleveland airport. On final approach. As we were making our descent. Seriously? And to top that off, we couldn't gamble that we had enough gas to circle the airport until it reopened so we were re-routed to Detroit. Unbelievable, right?

But fortunately, all my airline adventures have happened on the ground. Knock on wood that this is a pattern that will continue.

Except...

I had one of those flights on final approach to DIA returning from vacation in Indiana. Nothing tragic, nothing too crazy - hardly worth mentioning except that it made for a flight to remember. And was enough to make me a nervous flyer, at least at the time.

It was a rather boring flight. I spent most of the time zoning out to Mark Harmon and NCIS (thank you USA Network for mini-NCIS marathons). And I was looking forward to landing and zooming home to my puppy dog. Captain announced final approach and I began to anticipate getting off the flying tin can.

As we made our descent into DIA, we hit a patch of turbulence. Not rock the plane violently turbulence, more like the small hills on a roller coaster. The kind that give you butterflies in your stomach - normally a good sensation, and not overly concerning though I did worry about hitting an air-pocket that would drop the plane further than we had to drop. And then...

All of a sudden, instead of descending into the airport, we started climbing. Engines screamed like on takeoff, which seemed a little odd, considering that we were coming in for a landing. And then we banked hard to the right. Definitely more of a bank that I've ever experienced in a plane. Enough that had I been standing up, there's a good chance I would've ended up sitting in 20F instead of 20A. And I'm not sure the gentleman already occupying that seat would have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

At this point, I had a pretty nervous hold on the armrest and was trying to not get creative with my thought processes. Mark Harmon was gone from my screen in what the standard message assured me was due to normal aircraft movement. Except it's not really very reassuring, as I'm pretty sure that they don't have a standard message that reads "Signal lost due to extremely unusual and dangerous maneuvers - all hope is lost."

So to distract myself, I looked out the window. At the beautiful lightning display. Nice, right? But I'm sure it's heat lightning...oh, except for those giant bolts. Okay - looking out the window wasn't proving to be the distraction I was hoping for.

And now my thought process got creative. Why didn't we land? Are these evasive maneuvers? Does the pilot know something he's not sharing? How am I suppose to judge the mood of the flight attendants if I can't see them? How fast can I turn on my cell phone and text everyone I know? What would I say? Could I text a farewell message without feeling the need to use proper grammar and punctuation?

Oh, and why has the emergency lighting all of a sudden come on? Exit signs, floor lighting. I don't imagine the emergency slides at those emergency exits will do a whole lot of good if the plane isn't actually on the ground. Does my floatation device also double as a parachute? And seriously - if the oxygen masks drop from the ceiling, I'm totally going to pee my pants.

Turns out, in the end, that the flight pattern they had us approaching on didn't leave us with enough runway to actually stop the plane, so the landing was aborted and we had to come in on a different approach. In the end, my creative juices got flowing just enough to create borderline panic, though I managed to avoid crying, screaming, hyperventilating and rationalizing. I did, however, probably leave deep finger-shaped indentations in the armrest.

Words to Live By

Life is short,
Break the rules,
Forgive quickly,
Kiss slowly,
Love truly,
Laugh uncontrollably,
And never regret anything that made you smile.

Life may not be the party we hoped for,

but while we're here we should dance.

Heartache vs. Heartburn

I think I have reverse self-esteem issues.

In my mind, I'm prettier than I am in the mirror. Yeah, I have no delusions about my actual size - I'm fat and I get that. But in my mind, I'm a "pretty" fat girl. Long hair, fair skin, blue-green eyes. Pretty smile, soulful eyes.

Then I look in the mirror.

And somehow, even after all these years, it comes as a little bit of a shock.

I have fair skin, but it's not fair, porcelain skin. It's more like blotchy, pale skin with moles. Not like a grotesque amount of moles, but a few. My fair skin means that any blemish stands out like a a circus clown at a funeral.

I have long hair, but instead of honey gold, it's more dirty dish-water yellow.

My eyes - aren't bad. But they seem to get lost in the shape of my face. Which is round. Like...VERY round. Emphasized by the presence of an extra chin or two.

Sometimes, I look in the mirror, and am startled by the stranger staring back.

It's not that my appearance has changed over the years. It's the same face, the same shape, the same pale, blotchy skin. Except for a few coloring-experiments, my hair has always been this color.

Every time I look in the mirror, after a few minutes of trying to rectify my mental image with the image in the glass, my eyes slide down to size up the rest of this stranger looking back at me.

The news gets no better.

Fat arms. Like, upper arms that are larger (and flabbier) than most people's upper thighs.

Boobs that are two different sizes. And have never been described as perky. A bra is not just a fashion statement - it's a necessity to keep excessive amounts of sweat from forming below the "girls."

Hips that are wide. A belly button that gets lost in the extra fold of skin and fat.

Thighs that are dimpled. Thighs that really haven't spent all that much time apart. They're like Siamese twins (and that's not to be taken as an reflection on my sex life - or lack thereof - but more like a statement that I could power a small city from the friction of these Siamese twin thighs rubbing together when I do, well...anything).

Dimples are cute on the face - but a different story on the thighs.

And the ass. Oh, the ass...dimpled, pale white, GIANT. And, not at all perky. More like...end table. (I'm reminded here of Family Guy line here - "You like a little junk in the trunk? I'm a freakin' SUV").

Large calves. At least there is some muscle tone there, but it's getting buried under the fat. And in skirts, they look less like calves and more like tree trunks.

Cankles. Nice...cankles.

And feet that would make a circus clown jealous.

In the quest to match the "mental" me (mental in more ways than one) and the reflection in the mirror, there always seems to be this question....Am I am emotional eating? Do I eat to fill some void?

I don't know.

I can't deny that I love eating. Who wouldn't? I'm really good at it. Why wouldn't I enjoy doing something that I'm just this dang good at?

I know that there are times that I throw up my hands in the air and think, "If I'm destined to spend my life alone, I might as well enjoy Reese peanut butter cups after a gut-wrenching meal at Taco Bell."

So yes - there are times that I eat because despair can be overwhelming. And everyone knows that the best weapon against heartache is heartburn.

I study this stranger in the mirror and know that I could change it. A little hard work, a little discipline and a little bit of faith. And I could maybe become better acquainted with my reflection - or my reflection could become more of what I see in my mind.

Man in the Mirror

This week, three entertainment icons have passed on.

Ed McMahon

March 6, 1923 – June 23, 2009

Will always be remembered for
Heeeeeeerrrrrrreeeeeee's Johnny!

Farrah Fawcett

February 2, 1947 – June 25, 2009

Iconic pin-up "Angel" with the

much desired feathered tresses

Michael Jackson

August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009

Michael Jackson is the one that gave me pause. And I don't think I can sum him up, as I have the other two.

You know, when someone passes away, even a celebrity, I think about how that person may have impacted my life. Farrah and the popularlity of Charlie's Angels was a little before my TV viewing days. And Ed McMahon's reign as Carson sidekick was pre-Leno, which was about the time I started watching the Tonight Show.

Somewhat ironically, after years of relativly quiet celebrity-hood, both Farrah and Ed have spent time in the headlines, for moments both would have certainly rather endured privately. Farrah for her battle with cancer, documented in "Farrah's Story", Ed for his bankruptcy.

Then there's Michael. At first, I thought his impact on my life was as his role in public tended to be in the later years - a punchline for jokes about plastic surgery, skin conditions, baby dangling and inappropriate relationships with small boys (there might even be a completely inappropriate version of "Rubber Ducky" floating around from my college days that was inspired by that last bit.) And for a moment, that's how I remembered him.

Then, on the way home from work, my carpool companions (Slacker & Steve) were taking calls from listeners who were sharing stories about Michael Jackson. Not Michael Jackson, the Headline. But Michael Jackson, the Headliner. The King of Pop. The voice of a new generation.

I was never a particularly huge Michael Jackson fan - I knew his stuff and I have his HIStory CD, but I wouldn't have gone to a concert, or actively sought out his new material. But when I got into the car, they were playing one of my favorite songs. And I remember, that for a lot of years - before the headlines and the surgeries and the unfortunate baby dangling - Michael sang for a better world. We Are the World, Earth Song, Man in the Mirror, Black & White and Heal the World.

So today, I choose to remember him as a voice that opened my eyes to the possibility that I can be an instrument for change.

I'm going to make a change for once in my life

It's gonna feel real good, Gonna make a Difference

Gonna make it right...

As I turn up the collar on my favorite winter coat

This wind is blowin' my mind

I see the kids in the street with not enough to eat

Who am I to be blind, pretending not to see their needs

A summer's disregard, a broken bottle top

And a one man's soul

They follow each other on the wind ya' know

'Cause they got nowhere to go

That why I want you to know

I'm starting with the man in the mirror

I'm asking him to change his ways

And no message could have been any clearer

If you wanna make the world a better place

Take a look at yourself and then

Make a Change

I've been a victim of a selfish kind of love

It's time that I realize

That there are some with no home, not a nickel to loan

Could it be really me, pretending that they're not alone

A willow deeply scarred, somebody's broken heart

And a washed-out dream

They follow the pattern of the wind, ya'see

Cause they got no place to be

That's why I'm starting with me

I'm starting with the man in the mirror

I'm asking him to change his way

And no message could have been any clearer

If you wanna make the world a better place

Take a look at yourself and

Make a change

You gotta get it right while you got the time

Cause when you close your heart

Then you close your mind!

Feed My Delusions...

Welcome to the new era of "fan-dom." Now it's even easier to stalk your favorite celebrity!

Welcome to the world of Twitter.

Here's how it works. If I had a life, I could post updates (or tweets) to my Twitter of what I was doing and my "followers" would be kept up to date. If I had a life...

I mean, obviously, I have a life. I just don't have a LIFE. Or at least, I don't have a LIFE where I could post interesting updates on a regular basis. I set up my Twitter account by accident, while trying to read a Twitter feed from Despair.com. And even though I didn't mean to establish a Twitter feed, I can't seem to help posting a random update.

Totally random updates. Kinda like this blog...

Then, one day at lunch with my "book club," someone mentioned following a celebrity on Twitter. And on a whim, I decided to see if Matthew Perry had a Twitter feed. And alas, he does. And there's this amazing option, where I can have his Twitter updates sent to my cell phone like text messages. So now...

I get text messages from Matthew Perry.

Well, me and 80,000 other people. Literally - 80,000 followers and counting. Can you even imagine 80,000+ people interested in you?

But regardless of how many other people read these "tweets," it's still unbelieveable to me, this real-time world of celebrity-fan connections. It's such a strange sensation, to get a tweet on my cell phone and know that right now, MP is settling in to watch a movie, or a hockey game. That just a few minutes ago, MP typed a message and hit send. And instantly, his fans know what he's up to.

Seriously - Does this make me a stalker?

Not that that would be a new role for me. I've always been somewhat of a stalker - just one that's been "locational-ly challenged."

Just kidding - I don't have stalker in me.

It takes too much initative.

(Also, I was thinking of adding a picture of MP to this post, but seriously...that makes me feel like "crazy stalker girl" and I just can't get myself to go there...)

Post-Edit (Like WAY post edit, like 2-17-10 post edit): So (speaking of MP), a few months ago he started this joke and asked his followers to tweet him a punch line. I sent him one and he re-tweeted it. Like seriously...I (stalker that I am), almost kinda had brief, technological encounter with MP. It was cool...well, that and for a short while, because he re-tweeted my post, I picked up some of his crazy stalker fans.

Seriously...Crazy. Stalkers.

Unlike me...Sane stalker who is geographically challenged (in other words, I live too far away to sit at the end of his driveway, looking into windows with night-vision goggles).

MP: "Having lunch with your trainer is comforting and not satisfying all at the same time. Kinda like...(insert joke here).

PH: "Like reality tv..."

Panic Ensues Again (As Does Another Thought...)

Speaking of flu panic...

A few years ago, there seemed to be a lot of news about the Avian, or bird, flu. Now, the threat certainly isn't over. It will someday mutant and spread human to human. I only hope that we have enough time and warning to have treatment options ready.

But right now I'm going with this philosophy: It you don't laugh, you cry.

So...someone sent me this picture, with this headline...

FIRST CONFIRMED BIRD FLU DEATH AT DISNEYLAND

Cause...if you don't laugh, you'll cry.

Panic Ensues

This year, the latest craze is swine flu.

I don't mean to make light of it. It's a scary situation - People have and will die from it. Although the deadly strains seem limited to Mexico, it does make me worry about the next pandemic that will wipe out a percentage of the population. It's coming - we just don't know when or what it will be.

But I do mean to make light of something - the media hype and ensuing public panic.

But regardless of whether you are or are not (I'm not) overly concerned about catching the swine flu, it's probably a good idea to avoid this, at least for now.