Plane preparation

The Prij and I have been speaking of Plane Trauma, the overemotional state that she and I both fall into on planes. I'm dreading the please-don't-tell-me-how-many-hour flight to San Francisco later this week for that very reason.

Dreading.

So I'm making a list of all the things I'll do to distract myself from the fact that for a stupid, literally unconscionable number of hours all through what should be a night, I'll be trapped in an aeroplane seat unable to sleep and slipping swiftly into an ever-more-ludicrous spiral of lunacy. So far that list contains:

• Watch all episodes of The Slap back to back on in-flight entertainment.
• Watch The Ides of March.
• Watch Volver.
• Watch Boy.
• Read The Greatest Show on Earth and experience an epoch-like rainbow of emotions viz.: hours 1-2.5: amusement; hours 2.5-4: inexplicable rage; hours 4-4.5: staring mindlessly at the colour plates over and over; hours 4.5-5: barely contained Dawky-loathing; hour 5 onwards: reading the copious footnotes in an effort to piece them together into some kind of meaningful hidden message.
• Wish to God I'd brought something—anything—other than Dawkins to read. 
• Wish to God I'd brought Capote. 
• Wish to God I'd brought Capote.
• Listen to everything on the inflight radio. Even the classical Japanese channel.
• Attempt to rework the novella I wrote for Nanowrimo and have since been toying with. Then irreparably delete all chapters in a single turbulence-induced finger-slip.
• Panic about the practical teaching placement I must face almost immediately upon returning to Australian shores; wonder why the fuck I ever imagine I can enjoy studying anything at all; entertain lurid fantasies of vanishing into Mexico or Cuba. Probably Mexico.
• Spend an inordinate amount of time making up names for the goats and roosters I dream of having if and when my life ever again even vaguely approaches anything resembling anything I'd ever hoped for, ever, even in my most modest fantasies. Create a list that will most definitely include Mexico, Francisco and Enid. And probably Cuba.

If you're thinking, "Where's the 'Getting completely annihilated on free scotch in the flight's first fifteen minutes' bullet point? Man, that's what I'd do, wa-hey!" then friend, I can see we have a lot of ground to cover before we can claim a true meeting of the minds here. For now, let me just say that "wa-hey" is not terminology to associate with either passenger airline flights or scotch.