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.: 1.06.2009 

Flight Safety

Last night I dreamt about crashing in an airplane.

It started off driving around Boston with AFP. We had to get to the airport. I was flying somewhere... maybe Korea, maybe England. I'm not sure.

There was drama at the airport. I had missed my flight. AFP and I ran into friends (S, E, Hubby, and Tim), who were also going to wherever I was going. I think at this point it became England, because of course Tim would be going home. After some shouting, we all managed to get tickets on the same flight, though our seats weren't near each other.

We got on the airplane. It was an odd plane, not a style I'd seen before. It was like a large commuter plane. There was a 2-3-2 seating arrangement, but each seat was like a captain's chair with a decent amount of room. The upholstery was a burnt orange sort of color. There were maybe 28 seats total in the economy section. We took our seats, but then as soon as we pushed back from the gate everyone stood up and started swapping places because the flight was only about half full. I got up and went up and down the aisles looking for people I knew to get them to come back to my area where there were a lot of empty seats. Mind you, this is AS the plane is taking off. I found everyone but Tim, so I went into the business class (about 12 seats in navy blue) to look for him. He wasn't there, and on the way back to economy I got lost and ended up in a papier-mâché hold. Yes, really.

I tripped and ended up on the floor. It was cold. There were windows, covered over in plastic sheeting. The sheeting bulged inwards (which makes no sense because at higher altitudes gas EXPANDS, but whatever, dream-brain) and I could make out the shapes of snowcapped mountains through the milky plastic. I remember thinking that this was not good, that the fuselage would be compromised, when of course the sheeting ripped away from the windows letting in frigid 30,000ft. high air. This caused some problem in the starboard engine, and suddenly, we were crashing.

Instinctively, I knew we were crashing in the Andes, and that we'd have to eat each other like that soccer team. Somehow, though, the pilots pulled off an amazing emergency landing on a snow-covered slope. We were still stranded in the Andes, but considering I was in a papier-mâché hold under the plane and wasn't crushed to death, I figured this was a plus.

I ripped my way out of the plane and gathered with my friends and Hubby. Tim had turned into Jack Black. Then I woke up.

Sources:
1) Talking about death with dad and Connie with weekend, and how it's safer to fly than to drive on Sunday afternoon.
2) Pictionary with Tim on Sunday morning.
3) Hanging out with S and E on New Year's Eve.
4) Learning about LeakyCon in Boston last night.
5) Tenacious D and Dresden Dolls/AFP on infinite repeat in my brain.

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thus proclaimeth the Zabet  12:31 PM   4 comment(s)

4 Comments:

Does this mean that you are going to be more nervous when you fly? Good thing we are driving to yarn school.

By Blogger robyn, at 5:33 PM  

About the same, really. The airplane I was crashing in doesn't exist.

By Blogger Zabet, at 6:52 PM  

There would be better eating on Jack Black. I like to think that the transformation was me taking one for the team.

Also, I made "currently stalking"? Aw, yeah!

By Blogger Timothy M. Ralphs, at 6:52 AM  

You've been there for a while, hon. Have you not seen my blog before??

*snort* Sage said, "You need a hobby." I said, "I have one, his name is Tim!" Of course you're in my stalkee list.

By Blogger Zabet, at 9:50 AM  

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