Fotografo de Bodas, Santiago

June 10, 2007

I’m heading to the US next week and I’m nervous as hell. I HATE flying. I keep having nightmares of myself in these fiery crashes, trying desperately to call Seba to tell him I love him one last time before the plane goes down. Pretty picture, huh?

When I was little I wasn’t scared of flying. In fact, I loved it! Going on a plane was a thrill…what child doesn’t dream of touching the clouds, right?

Laying in bed the other night, I was thinking about that. What makes us afraid? Is it true that ignorance is bliss? Was I fearless when I was younger because I didn’t know any better?

When I was little I couldn’t read. I had no idea that in the past year planes have went down in Russia, Bolivia, Brasil, even in the US (Kentucky was it?). I live in Chile. Things like that can definitely happen here, third world country baby! Oh wait, we’re not using that term anymore…my bad. That should be, developing country baby!

Also, when you’re small, nothing is impossible. I used to jump off decks and ladders with an umbrella, utterly convinced that I could fly like Mary Poppins. I would also lay on the ground with my eyes squeezed shut, making an “HUmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” noise. I was complety sure of the fact that I was levitating myself a good three, maybe four feet off the ground. So it made sense that giant pieces of metal with wings could take off and carry people thousands of feet in the air, over land, mountain and oceans, all the way to far off lands. Now I see these machines that weigh over a ton, these so called airplanes with their tiny, fragile wings, and I think to myself, “Should they really be able to do that?” Fly, I mean.

Another possible reason for me newfound fear and hatred of flying may be the fact that I, for the first time in my life, have everything to lose. I am a newlywed, so crazy in love with my husband that he has convinced me, a life long child H-A-T-E-R, to maybe someday spring his offspring from my womb. Not anytime soon, granted, but still. I hope I don’t hate my own child. That’s a different subject for a different blog entry.

I never used to fear death because what did it matter if I died? Yes, my parents would be sad, but they have other children, they’d get over it. Yes, my friends might cry a little, but they have other friends, same dealio. Now, I do not fear death. No, I fear dying without S. If we’re in the plane, holding hands as its going down, I’m totally ok with that. But, I don’t want to be without him when I go, nor do I want to leave him to live a life without me. Alliteration without trying, score!

Alright, blog people. If you have a scary flying story DO NOT share it with me. I repeat, DO NOT SHARE. In fact, don’t even insinuate or allude to the fact that you may have once had a flight with turbulents so bad that your carry on bag went flying out of your overhead compartment. Don’t even tell me about how you had to sit next to the smelliest, drooliest man alive. All I want to hear is that every flight you’ve ever taken has been rainbows and sunshine. Thanks! You guys cured me of my fear of ghosts in a previous entry so I’m really hoping that you can do the same with my flying phobia.

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7 Comments

o.k. so here is my scary story: I don’t like kids either and I, gulp, had two of my own. It is amazing how, when they are your own, it can change the whole perspective. I still don’t like other people’s kids—with exceptions,of course. I know this isn’t what your post was about but that really caught my eye—sorry.
Oh, and by the way, I have been on a plane a gazillion times and nothing bad ever happened. I know, anticlimactic.
I enjoy your blog—keep up the good work.

Comment by Rachel — June 11, 2007 @ 10:52 am

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Hi MC,

Thanks for your comment on my blog. Yours is a fun read. You write well, which I’ve discovered is all it takes to be interested in someone’s blog: a good writer makes any topic worth reading. Nice to find a sister expat, too. I’ll be checking in from time to time.

Comment by Grayson Morris — June 11, 2007 @ 1:48 pm

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I know what you mean about flying – and I’m a TRAVEL AGENT..LOL. I refuse to read about crashes or watch movies about flying.. “Snakes on a Plane”..”Passenger 57″ “Turbulence”.. are you fucking kidding me?? I do my best to just breathe and go with it. I’m glad that you’re coming home for a visit though – enjoy!

Comment by Danyele — June 11, 2007 @ 2:58 pm

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All of my flights have been rainbows and sunshine. Seriously. Except for the security checkpoints, I love flying. I used to fly every week for my job, probably over 500 times in my life, and I’ve never had so much as a bumpy landing.

I’m also scared of having my own children. I’m scared of being pregnant. I’m scared of irreparably scarring a child. I like other people’s children. I mean, if they act like brats, I can just send them home. But what if I raise a monster? I’m doomed!

And I’m scared that in all the time we spend on our child(ren) we’ll grow apart. I love having all of my husband’s time. I’m greedy!

Despite that I asked my husband if we could talk about having a child next year. Talk about it. Not necessarily begin planning for one. I think he’s more scared than I am.

Comment by ordinarygirl — June 11, 2007 @ 3:23 pm

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Hi Mamacita. I like your writing! You visited my fitness blog (blog.dynamicfitness.us) and asked if you could shoot me a fitness question. I answered in a comment there but wanted to make sure you got my answer…so here it is: yes! Ask away. Thanks for reading, and keep up your own writing too! –Andrew

Comment by Andrew — June 12, 2007 @ 12:14 pm

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Hahaha, you're gonna sprout a demon!Oh yeah, you're my only friend.

Comment by Joy — June 16, 2007 @ 4:36 am

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The thought of children also scares me. Yet somehow, as I approach 30, I’m starting to feel like I need to have them. Want to have them. It’s the pregnancy thing and the end of it – I’m no fan of needles and scalpels!!

As regards flying, I have a HIGH potential to freak out, even though logically I know there’s no reason. All that jazz about airplanes being safer than cars, bla bla bla. My boyfriend’s even a Continental pilot! So, my compromise with myself is that every time I get in a plane, I say a little prayer. I try to remember that if it’s my day, then it’s my day, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And then I concentrate very hard on it NOT being my day LOL. I’ve flown all over tarnation, so you’d think my fear of flying would at this point be labeled irrational. Oh well. There’s no logic in it, it’s all about feelings. Bizarre as they may be, they’re there. Better to feel it, acknowledge it, and go on about my business, I say!! And… a glass of wine on the plane doesn’t hurt either. )

Comment by Leigh — July 2, 2007 @ 3:54 pm

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