That’s me and super agent Chip MacGregor at the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference last week. (Thanks to Margo Carmichael, from whom I stole the picture.)  I always like catching up with him during this yearly event. Even if he was on pain meds at the time.

Whenever I get on a plane I tend to write. As mentioned a hundred times, flying makes me nervous, so my brain tends to get overloaded with racing thoughts like “Is my seat cushion REALLY a flotational device? Will the flight attendant like me more if I pretend to listen to her safety schpiel? Is it oxygen on a kid first or oxygen on me–and what if I’m traveling with a cat?”  So to make sure my head doesn’t explode, I tend to write down a little flight journal entry.  I thought I would share my entry from last Wednesday, the day I left (at 5:45 in the morning) for Denver to the ACFW conference.

(ahem, begin journal)

Went to bed at one a.m. I was through with work the day before at 1 in the afternoon, yet still almost twelve hours later I was just going to bed. I think I am packlexic. I just don’t understand packing–I see it differently. When I see a suitcase, things stop making sense.

So my flight today was supposed to be at 3:50 pm, but last night I thought why don’t I go early and kick around Denver. So I got up at 3:45 (barf–seriously wanted to barf. Miller the Cat stayed in bed. He was like “You get up, crazy. I ain’t gettin’ up.”)  on the off chance I could fly standby at 6:45. And I could. In fact, they changed my flights for free. Weirdly nice of American Airlines.

Last night my parents stopped by my house with cookies. Two in my bag right now calling my name. Except I’m too pooped to reach down and pick them up.

Okay, zero visibility outside. None. All clouds and fog. (Jesus take the wheel! Take it from the plot’s hands! Cause he can’t do this on his own…”)

I’m on the loudest flight ever. I think the engine is strapped under my seat.  But it’s a bigger plane that usual to Dallas. Only 30 of us on here–so IDEAL. I have a row of three all to myself. I am quite comfy. Despite the fact that I’m poised 30,000 feet in the air.

It’s orange juice time.

Reading People magazine. Brad and Kimberly Paisley have the cutest kids ever and no nanny. One kid is Huck–love that. The other is Jasper. Was she watching Twilight when she picked a name? (Note to self–should I ever find myself PG, do not watch Twilight. I don’t want a baby named Cullen or Renesme.)

Note II: I can down three ounces of oj in two seconds.

Note III: Sometimes it’s good to take a break from your favorite pen. I’m now writing with a Brandilyn Collins “Seatbelt Suspense” pen I got at a conference three years ago. There are no Jenny B. Jones pens. But I am working on a Chia in my likeness…

I want those cookies.

But then if I eat them I won’t be hungry when I get to DFW. And then if I don’t eat breakfast No. 2 (if you eat at 5 am or before it’s as good as not eating breakfast at all. It never happened. Automatic do-over) Anyway, if I don’t eat breakfast No. 2 then what will I do on my layover? I can’t read. I love to read, but I hate reading in airports. There’s too much going on to do that. And when I say too much going on, I mean there’s a McDonald’s, Burger King, Sbarros, Chilis to Go, and Auntie Anne’s. (Ohhhh, I can taste butter in these cookies…totally worth it.)

I have to pee. But it seems gluttonous to use the plane bathroom on a 47 minute flight. And I care about appearances. Never mind that I’m the only passenger eating cookies at 7 am and clutching a baby pillow.

I gotta put these cookies up.

Why do they put animal stories in my People? I know an article about animals successfully using (why is this plane in overdrive all of a sudden? Is someone chasing us?) prosthetics is a triumph of the animal spirit, but it totally puts AK-47 holes in my heart. But one dog has two prosthetics after chewing his own legs off to get out of a wolf trap in Alaska. He now sticks his limbs out to tell his owner “I’m ready to get my legs on.” I can’t read the rest of this. I seriously can’t. At one point in high school I wanted to work part time in a vet clinic. But I didn’t. Thank God. Cause I’d be blogging from the Arkansas Mental Hospital right now if I had.

Picture of Kate Beckinsale in People. She’s wearing a fifteen dollar Wal-Mart maxi-dress and carrying a $3675 hobo bag.

Hot trend: sequins.
Note to Self IV: Add Bedazzler to Christmas list.

Everywhere I shop, every magazine I see–tall boots for fall. This is not good news for short girls.

I wonder when this headrest was last cleaned.

Four years ago I was on my way to ACFW for the first time.  Bad flight. My friend Erin and I were praying for our lives. Literally. Out loud. Erin went with the 23rd Psalm. I went with some begging-whining-made-up-on-the spot thing.

I need tea. But no tea this week. I spent last year’s conference in a caffeine coma.
Maybe I’ll take up smoking instead.

You can pay to get wi-fi on this flight?  That’s considered acceptable but I can’t listen to my iPod during takeoff? What if people are emailing terrorists? I mean, I don’t care. I just want to listen to some Keith Urban while my stomach drops to the floor, and I fight the urge to jump in the lap of the person next to me.

Visibility back to zero again. Just in time for landing. That’s a good feeling. Oh, wait. Hello, Dallas! Yes, I see it down there. Finally–nope. Gone again. Maybe it’s not fog. Maybe it’s the California wildfires. Either way, someone needs to clear this stuff up. The pilots and I need to see to land this bird.

I’m so tired.
I mean, two hours and forty-five minutes=not much sleep.

Okay. We’re descending, and every time we lose visibility the pilot guns it. What is that? I keep craning my neck to watch the flight attendant’s reaction, but he’s just reading the paper. At a time like this.

Crazy flight is over.
Mario Andretti got us here.
Thank you, God.
I need cookies.

(end journal)

*****************************

That’s it. I guess an alternate title for this post might be Reasons Why You Don’t Want to Sit By Me on the Plane. But I do come with snacks, so it wouldn’t be a total loss to be stuck beside me.

Have a great rest of the week. I’m gonna go try to write a book now.

JEN

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