I hate flying. I really do. There’s something wholly unnatural and weird about being in a pressurized tube at 38, 000 feet that occasionally shakes everywhere when you hit turbulence. I know I have mentioned multiple times that the Elder J and I grew up in the sticks, but this doesn’t mean I haven’t traveled. I have flown all over the country and to Europe, semi-regularly since I was very young but I still hate flying. It never changes.
Once I turned 21, I would get drunk when I flew to numb the stress I felt but I quickly learned that this also is not the best plan. Well, its fun for a little bit, but hangovers seem to hasten at high altitudes or I spend way too much money on Jim Beam Black nips and snack plates as free food on a flight has gone the way of the dodo.