Displacement. (No really, the PLANES make me crazy.)

All air travel freaks me out, not just space travel. I realized this, too late, on Friday evening as I boarded some Boeing or other and strapped myself into my seat. The whole experience of flying... it seems like a strange way to get anywhere. I tried to analyze my discomfort, and I think I located it on my return trip while I sat in BWI's Roy Rogers.

First off, it's always ALWAYS creepy when I'm inside a space that's completely sealed. Just the thought that I couldn't crack a window is enough to make my throat clamp. It's not just the planes themselves - that's creepy in its own way, especially if you're leaning against the window and can feel the sides of the plane shuddering - but airports are also completely sealed. Breezes, weather, oxygen... all suspended outside of your bubble. It makes me feel like I'm some unwitting mouse in a vast experiment. Honestly, did you ever notice that airports have no temperature to speak of? They're not cold, they're not warm, yet they're not comfortable. Ever. It's because there are no operable windows, in my opinion. THEY think they know what you want. THEY set the thermostat. THEY don't know that they've forgotten this subtle detail; air.

Granted, I have a lot of "Sitting Ducks" style paranoia* around the holidays, but can you imagine poison gas in an airport bathroom? You're sitting there, trying to float over the seat to avoid some other kind of health hazard, and this insidious yellow mist seeps under the door. If you could crack a window, you could be saved! Oh yes! But this is an airport. They'd rather keep the death on the inside.

Another creepy thing, I think, is that I imagine the gas getting sucked away into some other space that exists for these kinds of occasions. That doesn't make me feel secure, it makes me feel like a lab mouse. It really does.

I also worry about airport security, and it worries me more that airport security has never noticed how much I worry about airport security. I must look completely incapable of crime, because they completely disregard my flushed cheeks, darting eyes, stammering statements, sweaty boarding pass... Really, shouldn't they be giving me a harder time? Instead, I'm sure they say, "Oh god, this girl looks nervous. I'll just make it short and sweet and get her through. Don't want her peein' on my good shoes." Do I not look suspicious?? If I were my fellow passengers, I'd want them to give me a hard time, dammit!

Ugh. I'm not flying again for a good long time. But then, if things work out, I'm not going home for a good long time, either.




*Other "Sitting Ducks" scenarios in JoBiv's head:

1. Mind control through cell phones. Some day a nefarious mad scientist will orchestrate a mass-calling of all cell phones at the same time. We, silly cell phone users, answer simultaneously, thinking we recognize the number. A hypnotizing voice instructs us to walk toward yonder bridge and throw ourselves off. Lemmings. Plop. plop. plop.

2. Toilet paper poisoning. No really, I thought of this the other day. I was thinking of the baby's tylenol suppositories and how quickly her body absorbs the medicine. How easy would it be to plant trace amounts of arsenic in your toilet paper? Every time you wipe your ass, you could be poisoning yourself! Eventually, you'd either build up immunity, or DIE with your ass hanging out! What could be worse? I ask you...