The following is what I wrote in a shaking aircraft where there was no internet. I got to where I was supposed to be in one piece. Some art did occur.
October 8, 2011
I’ve spent my entire life in airplanes but now they frighten me. Suddenly it isn’t so cool to be suspended in mid-air inside a frail metal body. It isn’t cool at all. Turbulence and no smoking; blocked sinuses and impaired hearing. No, I don’t like it anymore. They have a strange monitor display up that shows a garishly colored map that is supposed to tell me where I’m going. Like it’s a consolation – like it’s supposed to give me a sense of purpose while I sweat in growing terror. Also, the sudden turns this plane seems to be making seem unfamiliar. Am I imagining things?
There isn’t much to amuse me around here. Maybe I should pay more attention. Meanwhile, the craving for a cigarette (a nice fulfilling deep drag) is driving me a little crazy. Maybe this has everything to do with my stupid addiction. I’ve noticed smoking is the most boring addiction. It doesn’t even make you look good anymore. It just smells bad and hurts something awful. Oh well, so much for that.
Atleast there is eye-candy. For some reason, there are only male flight-attendants on this flight. And most of them are a sight for sore eyes. Maybe you are required to be decidedly pretty before they hire you now. The older ones looked like anybody’s uncle. I wonder if they’re straight or gay. I’m tempted to ask just to have something else to do besides get paranoid about the turbulence and crave cigarettes. I wonder how they’d react though.
This brings me to something I have been noticing recently. It suddenly seems to be that the majority of the Pakistani male population is unattractive. When did that happen? Was it always like this? How did I not notice before? Has something changed? Every day on the road, I make it a point to look for at least one attractive man. I look into cars and stare at the pedestrians. I know that is mostly rude but if the men can do it, so can I. Besides, I feel like if I could spot one good looking man on the streets, then there might be hope for Pakistan after all. And everyday, I am disappointed. Maybe you have to be on a plane to spot nice looking men. These days, even clean-looking men give me hope.
I have been periodically reading the instructions on the Nicotine Replacement Treatment gum I bought before I left. I still haven’t popped it. It’s for when the craving gets so bad, I start groaning with pain. If I can still type, it isn’t too bad. I wish they had internet on the plane so I could tweet about everything. Also, has anyone else noticed how suggestive my seat number is?