It's always hard to plan a trip. First you have to save money to go, then you have to take time off from work, and if you're flying, you have to plan that out. If you think that's bad, and it is, the flying in itself is worse! Well, to be honest that’s just my opinion.


About a year ago, I decided to go to Hawaii. I surprised my mother when I told her, because I was planning on taking a plane. “You don't really have a choice of transportation.” I tried to explain to my overbearing and confused parent, “Well then again, there’s always cruise. However I never much took to the idea of a hotel on water. I thought the Titanic would put people in the right mind, but I guess I’m one of the smart ones.” "I thought you hated flying", she shrieked, ignoring my comments on cruises. I told her I changed my mind. "Okay!" she replied casually. No need for explanation.


The great day came. It took me a whole two months to pack. I didn't want to leave anything behind so I took my whole house: my whole closet, everything in my fridge, my iPod, a couple CheesiesTM, and some toilet paper just in case. You never know when you might need it. I was planning on spending two weeks in Hawaii. That's an extremely long time away from home, so I needed everything. Of course, all my food was confiscated and the security officer mumbled something about needing to send me to an insane asylum when I asked why we needed security in an airport, but other than that, everything went swell.

As we started boarding the plane, the thought of flight got in my head. I suddenly remembered the ultimate reason why I hated planes....I'm afraid of heights! Obviously! If humans were meant for flight, we would have been born with wings. (Perhaps the security officer was right about me.)

My legs felt weak, my arms were shaking. I told myself to think of something other than the flight. Ah! How relaxing. I was thinking of marshmallow clouds, a chocolate chip cookie sun, and a hot dog (with ketchup)......plane? That definitely didn't help! Rather than waste my time planning what to do, I did the first thing I could think of. I fainted!


A couple hours later, I woke up in a daze, in my seat, all buckled up. ‘Man,’ I thought, ‘I ought to faint more often. Free first class treatment! You faint, and they carry you right up to your chair….I wonder why my jaw hurts, though.’

After about a minute, I discovered two things: that the only movie I missed was “Snakes on a Plane”, and that they only put me in my seat after some crazy guy tripped over my head and hurt his back. They basically moved me because it wasn’t safe for the other passengers. ‘Typical!’
Suddenly, a very male voice, which belonged to someone I would like to meet, was heard over the speakers.

"PASSENGERS, PLEASE FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS. WE ARE NOW LANDING!" 'Phew! Almost over.' I thought. "ATTENTION PLEASE! PILOT LOST CONTROL! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! WE'RE...........GOING...........TO CRASH!"

The last part was a little fuzzy, so I had to ask. “What did he say?" I asked the lady next to me, "'We are going to crash' or 'we are landing in trash?’" I gave her time to reply, since she might have been processing the question. Two minutes later I looked over at her. No answer! 'How rude!' She was busy putting on that 'comes-down-only-if-there-is-something-wrong-with-the-plane' mask, which was hanging from the ceiling.


While I was sitting in my seat, wondering if I should follow everyone and put on that ugly mask that looked like it had never been washed, the plane started downward suddenly. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode. BOOM! (Don't worry that wasn't my heart, it was just the plane falling out of the sky.) Now I was swimming in the sky, trying not to drown with air or skydiving and about to land in the ocean where I would have to swim anyway.

Flap! Flap! I knew it was useless but I had to do something. After all, I had already refused the mask. I started flapping my arms like crazy. My arms ached. My back was sore. It was amazing though, even though we were about to die, the people around me still had time to judge me. I could feel and hear my heart beating violently again. But wait! Something was actually happening! I was flying! Flying...Flying? If I knew that worked, I wouldn't have taken a plane in the first place. The same people, who were before looking at me with pity, were now looking at me with envy while they failed to fly. ‘Ha Ha! You thought I was crazy, but look who’s not dying now!’ I headed off for Hawaii.


It was such a different view from way up there. The cars on the roads looked like little ants. Big fluffy clouds surrounded me. Sadly they taste as much like marshmallows as planes taste like hotdogs. They didn't even taste good. I knew why birds liked to fly, though. If I got too scared of the altitude, I would just flap a little less. 'Why didn't I think of this sooner?' I told myself, 'I could have started when I was just a toddler, and slowly gotten rid of my fear of heights. Then everything would have worked out...or not.' I guess I was up there for a long while because I eventually found myself wondering if I needed a licence for this, then wondering if I might one day meet John Travolta in the sky.

Everything was perfect except.....I landed with a thud! Ouch! I needed to work on my landings. I looked around and realized I had to work on my sense of direction too. I was back where I had started. I had landed unbelievably on my front porch. I figured it was for the best, I should probably practice before I go on any major adventures. And if you were paying attention, you'll notice that I never picked up my luggage off the plane. I would have had nothing to wear. Not to mention I never had a "washroom plan" and was not planning on pulling off a "Bombs Away" routine.


However, regardless of the fact that I had just survived a plane crash, lost all my clothes, food and ID, discovered I could fly, and also discovered I had no sense of direction, I got in my car, and started off to the airport. "One ticket to Hawaii please!" And so began another adventure!