leaving on a jetplane.

I believe that I have mentioned before my dislike of flying. But, I don't think I've told you why. I know that flights can go smoothly. I've heard that it can happen, but somehow, it's never happened to me.

Examples:

1. The first time I flew on my own, I was going to BYU to visit my sister for spring break my junior year in high school. My flight was to leave at 1:00 in the afternoon and I should have arrived in Provo around 6:00. I got through security, was sitting in my gate calmly waiting to board the plane, when a loud voice came on the intercom and told everyone to go back to security. Let me emphasize something. Everyone. Not just my flight, not just the airline, but every single person in the airport had to go back through security. Then wait for about 3 hours before we were allowed to go back to our gates. Then wait another 2 hours before we actually made it into the air. I don't think I made it into Provo until around 10:00 at night. Why? Because some idiot tried to get onto an airplane by walking around the airport. First really crappy experience.

2. For the most part, the next couple times were okay. Don't get me wrong. Lots of turbulance, lots of delays, but no huge issues. Then I flew to Jackson, MS after my freshman year to help Daisy after she had twins. I had a layover in Chicago. Dana told me to find the rainbow tunnel. I never found it, but that's only the tip of the ice burg of why that layover was bad. Along with not finding the magical rainbow tunnel, there was a ginormous storm in Chicago. Torrential rain. My 1 1/2 hour layover turned into a 7 hour layover. I was starving, tired, and beat down after finals, and I sat in the Chicago airport with no cell phone to tell anyone what was going on. Finally, I got on the plane at 11:00 at night (I had been traveling since 8:00 am). When I arrived in the airport in Jackson and my bag came off that little roundabout, I found out that the jerk airport people had left my dark blue duffel bag out in the rain during the entire storm. The dark blue die leaked on all of my clothes. Then I got down to the pick up area and there was no one to pick me up. So, at 1:00 in the morning in the airport in Jackson, Mississippi, I sat down on the floor and cried. I continued to cry for about 5 minutes until my mom came running in the door.

3. More delays, more crap. But, yesterday's flight took the cake. The flight went pretty smoothly. It was not the plane that I was the problem. It was me.

Yesterday morning, I had to wake up at 3:30 in order to get from Joplin, Missouri to the Tulsa airport by the time my flight left at 6:43. I had to drive, as my mom had to work that day and my dad's eyes make it hard for him to drive in the dark. About 10 minutes from the airport, my stomach turned itself inside out and decided that it was time for me to not be driving anymore. After crying out "Imgonnapukeimgonnapukeimgonnapuke!" I pulled over to the side of the road, switched places with my father and curled in a ball in the corner of the car until we made it to the airport. I made it through security and onto the plane without a glitch. The flight went smoothly, I assume. I slept through it. I woke up when we were taxiing around and my stomach was flip flopping all around. It was upside down and inside out. It was tap dancing and doing back hand springs (my stomach is very talented, apparently). I knew that even though there was nothing in my stomach, it was coming up. And it did. Thank heavens for barf bags.
However, the next flight did not have those happy little bags in them. For this one I had to make a fun for the bathroom. Getting sick in an airplane bathroom is not really the easiest experience.

I am grateful for airplanes. I'm glad that I can make a 22 hour car trip shrink to 7 hours. It's great, it's exciting, it's fantastic. However, just once in my life, I'd like it if I could just have one flight that goes smoothly.