Plane of Thought in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Back home again on an S80 aircraft. I realize that this should be routine and painfully boring by now, but I still adore it with a passion. Oh no, not the flight part. I still hate flying. I seriously hate it. I get nervous each and every time. It makes me sick and I have to tell myself that everything is going to be fine. That I’m not going to die. I’ve told myself over and over again that I’m not going to croak on a plane or in a flight-related accident. That’s just not the way it’s going to end for me. Yet I still find myself jittery and frightened during bursts of turbulence.

No, the part that I love is the destination. It almost doesn’t matter where (although places that have nice weather, beautiful scenery, and hip hotspots don’t hurt). I just love going places…of course, especially New York! Which is where I’m headed right now!

And it doesn’t hurt that there’s a hot 22-year-old muffin waiting for me there. Ummm…well, okay. He’s not really waiting for me. But he knows I’m on my way. I think. Okay, I haven’t honestly talked to him, but I sure have been thinking about him a lot these past few days.

Really. Let’s face it. I’m probably not going to see him at all—ever again. I should just face up to the fact that I spent an amazing night (and morning) with an extremely hot, horny, sweet young thing. And it was what it was. And though I’d like to have some more of that, it’s just not meant to be anything other than what it was: an unbelievable one-night-stand.

So. I must rid my mind of such nonsense. I’ll try. Let’s begin now.

Right. The destination. And the job at hand. This trip is all about my little group (all six of us) attending a couple of conventions and meeting with several vendors. This is one of the more boring sides of my job. But it must be done, so I will do it. And I’m sure that there will be some fun had along the way. Even if I have to make my own fun!

Oh…I know I said that I must rid my mind of the 22-YO nonsense, but I forgot to tell you that I went to a dinner thing with the big wigs last night and drank too much wine. On my way home from the dinner, I drunk-dialed 22-YO! All I wanted to do was remind him that I was coming in tonight and to see if he wanted to meet me at the hotel. Luckily, his phone was turned off and his voice mail picked right up. And I’ll be damned if that charming, devilishly handsome, sweet, young thing wasn’t the cockiest MF on his outgoing VM message!

So I did not leave a message because it sort of freaked me out—the way he sounded like a different person. I was almost intimidated by his intonation. I’M supposed to be the mysterious, take-charge, older woman who knows what she wants and gets what she needs. When I heard the power in his voice (which I did not hear when we were together, by the way), I actually felt timid and shy. Weird! I’m so glad I didn’t leave a message because I’m sure it would have come out all nervous and fucked up and regardless of whether or not we ever saw each other again, he would have held all the cards, probably saved my message, and played it back to all of his little 22-YO friends. Yeesh.

Uh oh. Turbulence. And lots of it. I’m going to try to calm my nerves. Where’s the wine steward?

There. Seems to be better now.

Here’s a question: does text-messaging seem to be all the rage all of a sudden? It just seems like I’ve started having lots and lots of text message action in the last few weeks. And it seems like guys really dig it…like it’s so “gadgety” and great for guys because they don’t really have to have a real conversation, ya know? It’s just as easy (no, easier!) to actually dial in the number of the person the caller wants to communicate with and then actually speak to the callee. It’s really much harder and more time-consuming to key in all of those letters and stuff. But I suppose it’s more fun and gamelike that way, eh?

Here’s another thought: I think I’m coming down with a cold and I can’t wait to go to the Duane Reede across the street from the hotel and pick up some of that Airborne fizzy cold medicine stuff. A co-worker gave some to me on the plane last week when I was headed to NY, and I thought it was the greatest stuff ever. I only took one tablet, but I’m sure it kept me from getting sick last week. Now, I feel an illness coming on. My throat is feeling a little raw, and I do not want to be sick during Sundance!!!

So all the girls want to cocktail tonight, but I would like nothing more than to get that Airborne stuff and go to my room and snuggle down [guttery thoughts here].

Hey! Descent! Looks like I’m going to live through yet another flight. Well, I’m going to save this and I may or may not get to post it tonight. We’ll see how it goes. Regardless, I’m going to try my best to keep my head clear for the next few days. Clear of some of the crap that’s going on with the job (boring right now, but might get a little bloody later), clear of snot, and possibly clear of 22-YO, but I highly doubt that.

Okay, one more question: I know I’m obsessive, but am I truly downright pervy like I’ve said over and over and over? Don’t answer that.

Damn. Time to turn off electronic devices.