Anyway, this is how I get through my flights. I break them down into little things.

Watching the plane land
In Thunder Bay, you can see the plane you�re about to ride in land. I like to watch it land. Then I don�t take my eyes off of it again until I see them put that gas in. Yup. I believe strongly in refueling the plane, so I like to make sure they do it. I watch the Esso truck drive to the plane, watch them pumping it in, then feel satisfied that one thing is going to be okay on this flight.

Getting on the plane
Getting on the plane isn�t that hard. I�m not that smooth with the overhead compartments, so quickly jam my carry-on under the seat (whether it wants to fit or not). Then I sit myself down and put my seatbelt on. Yup. I wear my seatbelt the ENTIRE time. That flimsy strap my just save my life. You never know.

So then I sit there waiting. Waiting, waiting. Trying not to think about death. Normally, I read. I can read fine just sittin� on a plane. I have my gum in my hand ready to go. I have a tissue in my other hand just incase I get watery eyes.

Then I remember that I have a hard time breathing when I�m really nervous, so I open up that little air blaster above my seat. That way, if my lungs stop working on their own, I can put my head back and that little air blaster will force some oxygen into me. I make sure my coat is on, because damn, that air thingy is cold. (Probably because it�s the air conditioner or something.)

Plane starts moving
Okay, so when the nerves really start going is when the plane starts to move. The minute we start moving I start not to pay attention to what I�m reading. I still look at the book, but my mind is wandering to the sounds. The engine sounds okay. The flight attendants doesn�t seem concerned about anything. They�re still walking around making sure we�re buckled up. Don�t worry, I�ve been buckled up for 15 minutes already, and have no plans on not being so.

Of course, it takes, like, a million years to get to the right end of the runway, so I�m never sure when to start chewing on my gum. So, I put it in my mouth and don�t start chewing until the flight attendants sit down.

Absolute Panic (a.k.a. Take Off)
The plane starts to whiz down the runway. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I start to get that tingling sensation through my whole body. Pins a needles pokin� me all over. Hate it. The knot in my stomach breaks loose and moves its way into my throat. I put my head back and close my eyes. Then I feel the plane lift off the ground.

Here�s an interesting side story: Part of my fear of the initial take off is that the tail is going to hit the runway. My last flight, I convinced myself that this is physically impossible. They planes just aren�t built that way. The wheels would hit again before the tail. Well, recent events in Halifax just proved that not only is it possible, but it does happen. You can imagine my face when I opened up the Globe and Mail website a week before my trip to see charred plane parts scattered all over the place.

Then we start heading up. I start getting dizzy. I hate that part. I get all dizzy, my head feels like it�s not properly attached to my neck, and I feel like the plane is spinning. The only thing that makes that feeling go away is if I look out a window (not that I sit beside them � I look across the aisle and out a far away window) and realize that the ground is staying in the same place, though getting smaller and smaller. If the ground isn�t moving all over the place, then the plane must be steady. I�ve tried to close my eyes, but without a point of reference, I think we�re spiraling towards the ground. Fantastic.

Turning while taking off
Ah, my favourite, turning while taking off. Nothing adds more fear quite like going up at incredible speeds, then turning as we go. Shouldn�t the pilot be concentrating on leveling off before trying to turn the plane? Yes. Yes the pilot should. I know many are thinking, �But that would add lots of time to your flight.� Look into my eyes and find that little nugget of care. I don�t. Planes should not turn and take off at the same time. I�m quite adamant about this. Turning takes skill, taking off takes skill. Let�s just do one thing at a time. Turning while taking off increases the chance of tumbling to the ground. And really, why would the pilot choose to point a wing at the ground? That�s just asking for trouble.

Flight attendants walk around again
I always feel somewhat better once the flight attendants take off their seatbelts and walk around. I watch them like crazy through the entire flight.

Here�s my Flight Attendant Theory: Watch their faces if you hear or see something you don�t like on a plane. If they look scared, you�ve got trouble. If they look way too extremely happy, you�ve got trouble. If they look fake happy, like they�re thinking "I hate you all, I can�t wait to land. Why didn�t I call in sick today? You all suck" with a big insincere smile on their faces, then you�re fine.

Then I wait for the food and drink. I think to myself, "Okay, we�re level. The flight attendants are walking around. Soon they�ll bring the snackies (ya, I think "snackies"), and then we�ll start our decent and we�ll be fine."

And normally, I�m okay with that. I�m still scared, but I can read, I�m only dizzy if I move too fast, and I can almost (not quite but almost) look out the window with out being freaked out. I�m better if there are clouds. They look soft. I know that clouds are deceiving little bastards, but they look like you�d be find to land on one.

Any little bump or dip
What�s with the dips? That sudden little "whoop" you do on the plane. The flight attendants laugh and say, "Don�t worry, it�s just an air pocket." An air pocket? What the fuck is an air pocket. I�d like to think we�re surrounded by air, why is there suddenly a "pocket" of one? It�s bullshit, that�s what it is. There�s no such thing. Much like doctors call any pain in the abdomen that they can�t identify as Irritable Bowel Syndrome, so to do pilots call sudden dropping motions of the plane "air pockets." I don�t like it. I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I know that it�s a possibility that it�s serious. As to do I know that air pockets could cause the plane to fall from the sky. So, hit an air pocket, and I�m shaky again. I get the "Oh my God, I can�t breathe" feeling and my hands go ice cold. I can see it now. We�re plunging towards the earth at 7 million mph, and the pilot comes on the speakers: "Hello ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We�ve just hit a small air pocket, and it should settle down in about 8,000 feet. However, it may be a bit wet in the plane once the air settles down, so we�re just recommending that everyone grab hold of their floatation devices. Thanks for flying with us."

Turbulence, ya, same thing. Though less disturbing as air pockets, they are also more frequent, so scare the wits out of me.

Landing
I am much better with the landings. Though, coming into Toronto you do have to turn (see above for my thoughts on turning). While I still get the nerves going, I think the fact that we�re in the right position to land, if we suddenly run out of gas or something, we�re ready to land anyway.

But, to help the pilots out when they�re going a bit too fast, I always push my feet on the floor. Like I�m helping them break. Or perhaps I�m trying to lift myself back in the air incase of a crash landing. I don�t know, I don�t mean to do it, it�s subconscious. I just start to get a pain across my legs where the seatbelt is cutting in from my pushing. Yup, I�m a winner alright!

Conclusion
All this through only an hour and a half flight. Tears, various heart attacks, lungs collapse, and my head darn near falls off. Great. You realize when I go to Ireland I have to take off and land three times. And, I�ll be in the air for over 11 hours. Yup, you guessed it, I�m seeing my doctor tomorrow to get something for the take offs. I can�t spend that long that scared. It�s not worth it. No, gravol doesn�t work. I�m not drinking, as I don�t know if I�ll be a happy drunk or a paranoid drunk. And I can�t think of anything else to do.