What in the world, Kat? That bites.

I love flying. I love driving. I love transport of pretty much all kinds. I like the idleness, watching the world fly past my windows. I like the sense of anticipation, destination, departure, arrival.

I like transitional spaces in general. Being in my van isn't being anywhere, it's just going. And sometimes I like going better than getting there.

I also like the deep conversations that it seems isn't possible to have outside of really long road trips where you've been on the highway for so long and you're road-weary and bored and you've already talked about all the normal things you can.

Then you're somehow allowed to talk about other, more esoteric things. More personal things. I love that.

I have big control issues, and yet I'm fine with flying. And driving.

Then you're somehow allowed to talk about other, more esoteric things. More personal things. I love that.

Yeah. When I was in high school, most of my really intense conversations with friends and my GF took place while driving.

That sucks, Kat. I'm so sorry.

Some people do. Other people do not care for amusement park rides precisely because they don't consider it fun to be jostled about in a metal container. IJS.

fair point

"Happy animal fear that the sun will never come up again and attempts to propitiate the gods to make it warmer!"

That's what I say to everyone.

That or "Happy Let's Kill Something to Make the Sun Come Up! Don't eat the bean!"

Being in my van isn't being anywhere, it's just going. And sometimes I like going better than getting there.

Oh! That's what that is. Yes.

I also like the deep conversations that it seems isn't possible to have outside of really long road trips where you've been on the highway for so long and you're road-weary and bored and you've already talked about all the normal things you can.

That's one of those things I've always heard of but never really experienced.

That's totally fucking outrageous, Kat. Six weeks is an outrageously small amount of time in the first place; and, in the second place -- just, fuck them. The district wasn't the one in a postpartum haze with critically ill infants and a stress level constantly rocketing back and forth between insane and unbearable. If they couldn't either get it right the first time or catch any errors before they and you were $4000 in, they ought to just suck it up and write it off.

I'm sure they won't, but, for God's sake, they bloody well ought to. That's just fucked.

Yeah I hate the air quality, and cramped seating in air planes even though I have almost no plane fear. I'm with the enjoying turbulence (though there is a reason for seatbelts, really rare extreme turburlence has been known to seriously injure or kill people.)

Incidentally the whole "nothing I can do" thing:

Note where the two closest exist too you are. If you are going to be flying over water or near water, and one of your closest exits is over the wings, note where the two closest non-wing exits are (because wing exits sometimes are not used in water landings.) Make the appropriate personal tradeoff for you in terms of risk of being out of your seatbelt, and risk of embolism + personal discomfort from sitting in cramped airline seats too long. Know where the life preservers are. Statistically most airline crashes do have survivors. Being able to get to the exit in time with proper equipment is statistically part of what separates the survivors from the dead. Also being in the right seating section. (I forget where, but statistically, some sections are more likely to survive a crash than others.) Also a huge streak of luck. The other stuff just raises the odds.