Hello you all. Got back from Los Angeles yesterday. It was a fabulous trip which I will go into detail tomorrow, but today I would like to talk about my time with the airports. Now I'm not sure if I said before, but I hate flying. I'm scared of heights, but it's mostly during take off when I freak the hell out. It was totally worth it since it was to see my younger sister graduate, but I was still scared as hell.
On the way out to Los Angeles, take off was terrible for me. As soon as the back wheels left the ground and the plane dipped slightly, I was paralyzed with a death grip on the arm rest and with eyes the size of a small tire. (This is what my brother told me; I'm pretty sure I passed out for a second.) Anyway, my mom takes my hand off the arm rest and puts it on hers. She claims I didn't, but I feel pretty certain that I crushed it for about 5 minutes until the plane evened out and such. For the rest of the time I was fine with the flight. There was a screaming child behind us which was not fun, but I only hate those situations because the parent is usually doing nothing. It sounded like her little ears hurt and her mom wasn't talking to her or anything about it. I felt bad for the child.
Now that went pretty well, but coming back I was not happy. During airport security checks, both my mom and I got stopped. She was stopped for random screening which I thought was kind of ridiculous because they had told her to go ahead and get her stuff, and then they pulled her over to the side after she'd been giving the green light. I mean, I understand random screenings, but why tell the person to go ahead if you're going to take it back?
Anywho, I also got stopped. The airport security people were doing their jobs and looking at the bags, and my stuff got stopped. I had to get one article swabbed because it had looked suspicious or something. That article was my book. It wasn't even just any book. It was my copy of Let's Pretend This Never Happened by the awesome Jenny Lawson (a.k.a. The Bloggess). It was kind of funny, but at the same time...my book? Really? Not my purse or anything? My book. I totally say yay for doing their jobs because if something looks suspicious they should check, but...my book? What the heck did they see that looked weird?
That little episode scared the crap out of me because I had no idea what they saw. I was already nervous about the flight, and that had not made it any better. Go figure though, after that, the flight was easy and I did not kill my mom's hand. Guess it all worked out pretty well. :)
Details on trip tomorrow.