(no subject)

Despite being otherwise happy, I had a borderline panic attack on the plane last night. I have no idea what's happened to me; my father worked for an airline and I've flown my entire life and been fine with it. In the last 3 or 4 years though, I've developed a fear of flying. Not crippling, I can still get on an airplane, and I'm always fine for most of the flight. As soon as we hit turbulence though, or something sounds funny to me, the knuckles turn white and I start desperately wanting a valium or the equivalent. Last night was particularly bad, as I started getting tense well before we even left the gate. I was so nervous that I very nearly volunteered to give my seat up to one of the folks on standby and stay in Boston in a hotel for the night. I was quite disconcerted by the level of discomfort I'd hit before we even thought about leaving the gate, since that really never happens. Ah well. The fear showed up with no warning, perhaps it will leave the same way.

(no subject)

The October Mode has a great essay by Ann Magnuson about the joys of boots. Mmmm, boots.

Ever since I read Puss 'n Boots as a child, the message has been 
loud and clear: You wanna get the job done? Do it in boots.

[...]

Finding the right boot is a little like finding the right 
relationship--along  the way there are the good, the bad, 
and the ugly. All have served their  purpose.  Some you 
outgrow. Some you toss out.  Some you keep around for 
a laugh.  Some you pass on to a girlfriend. Then the search
is back on. And when that time comes, as it always does, when 
you feel you've tried  on every prospect in town, you threaten to 
quit. It's too hard, you say, I  can't take another disappointment. 
But just when you're ready to give up  searching for that perfect 
fit, something deep inside you says that it's time to pull yourself up 
by your bootstraps, slap on your favorite lipstick, put on your best 
short skirt, and make like Nancy Sinatra.