If you read Good Globe, then you may remember how much I loathe flying. Planes freak me out—sweaty temple, acid stomach, and heart attack sandwich combo. I don’t smile, talk, laugh, or enjoy one moment of the inflight experience. Instead, I’m basically near tears the entire time, and if you’re riding with me, you catch my wrath. It’s not cool or fun, and I wish I had more control over my reaction to flying, but I don’t. My friends have sworn off sitting next to me. That’s how naughty my travel demon is.
I hate it, and I hate its irony even more. I have to take planes to travel the world, and I have to travel the world to keep my soul smiling. One hand washes the other—a true yen yang situation. But…fuck that yen yang ding dang.
I don’t want to start every trip with the feeling I’m about to die, and end it with a cracked rib due to feverish heart palpitations. No, thank you. And that’s why I say YES to drugs.
I—the travel-loving aviophobic—am here to reinforce the little piece of “life candy” I handed out in Good Globe. And that is, if you can’t beat ’em, take Xanax until you don’t give a fuck about joining them.
Now…don’t get all moist in the panties that someone is backing Xanax. I’m not. I think pill poppers are begging for mashed potato brains, and American doctors hand out wayyyy too many prescriptions for America’s good, but ya know, there is a time and place to medicate. For me, it’s at 30,000 feet. Totally worth it.
And here’s a video to show just what a transformation Xanax can make in a fear-of-flying-maniac who had to take a six-seater, prop plane flown by a teenager to get to an amazing destination—Great Barrier Island in New Zealand.
Oh, the thrill of that little white pill. It’s reinvented my travel career. You’ll see. Enjoy the flight.