G and I are going to visit my grandmother in Albuquerque next weekend. We're driving there with my dad -- 800 miles through the desert, woo! -- and then she and I are flying back early so I can get a filling and she can start school.
Now, I will confess here that I am an absolutely terrible air traveler. I am that person you don't want to be seated next to, the one who white-knuckles the armrests, jumps halfway out of her seat at every unexpected bump, and asks the cabin crew calm, rational questions like "WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?" However, this will be G's first time on a plane, and I want her to enjoy it, which means I can't act like a douche and sit there silently weeping during takeoff the way I usually do. So, I've bought a couple of self-help recordings on overcoming airplane anxiety, and I'm trying as hard as I can to get my head into a good place for this trip.
My favorite of these recordings is narrated by a posh, older-sounding Englishman whom I imagine looking somewhat like Edward Woodward from The Equalizer. I've listened to it so many times that I've come to think of "Edward" as a personal friend -- in fact, I would really like it if he could come on the plane with us and hold my hand for the entire flight while soothingly saying, "You must repeat to yourself, 'Turbulence is uncomfortable, but it is not dangerous.'" Sadly, I don't think that's a service I can order online.
Will all this preparation actually do any good? I have no idea. But I'll find out one way or another in 12 days, 11 hours and 50 minutes ... not that I'm counting or anything.