Dragon Con here we come; almost

Aug 27, 2008

Ahhh! Plane ride tomorrow to Atlanta for Dragon Con. Did I mention the whole riding an airplane concept? Jon found that there is a train that goes all the way from Chicago to San Fransico. It takes four days, but I don’t seem to be afraid of trains. Though, I’ve never used a sleeper car. I tend not to sleep in cars, or anything that moves. So, we might get me on it, and discover that I just don’t sleep for four days. That would be bad.

If I could let go of my fear my life would be contain a great deal less stress. But how do you let go of a phobia? I’ve tried hypnotism. It doesn’t work on me. The nice hypnotist said I had trust issues; really, me, like that was a big surprise. I’ve tried immersion therapy, ie . . . twenty-six cities in twenty-eight days with a plane ride for each city. The theory was as nothing bad happened, I would eventually grow less afraid and more calm about the planes. By the next to last city, I almost didn’t get on the plane. I just looked at Jon and said, "I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I have one more plane ride in me." I did, of course, get on the airplane, but it was a near thing. Oh, and for those of you wondering why the twenty-six cities in twenty-eight days: the national tour for Narcissus in Chains. It came out just after 9/11 so the airports were even more, um, interesting than normal.

My new ipod is playing as I type this; I spent the last two hours going through the play list on the computer and putting things back, though same songs that had outlived their usefulness to me were dropped. New songs made it on, and because I was working from Jon’s play list . . . let’s just say that there are some interesting choices. After being together for eight years, my music taste is getting more eclectic just from rubbing elbows with his-self’s music collection. When we were dating I never knew when I got into his truck, if I’d be listening to the Andrew’s Sister’s, or death metal. You need a sort of psychic depth chamber to go from one song to the other, or so I thought years ago. Now, it doesn’t rattle me to be listening to Eartha Kitt one minute and HIM, the next. Though the lounge singer version of "Smack my bitch up," hurt my head a little.

I’ll try to do a blog tomorrow, but I can’t promise. If this is the last blog before I fly to Atlanta see everyone at Dragon Con!