Day #50 Travel Day - Dallas Love to Houston Hobby

Wednesday's journey was a short flight, just a little more than an hour. I had Brad take me early to the airport so he has time for a good nap before he goes in for his first night working "D" shift or third shift, starting at 11 p.m. The money is better, but I have worked that shift when I was single and a whole lot younger. It is hard, especially when tempted to sleep "normal" hours when not working.

Wednesday was a particularly weepy day. 1) Cried because I left my brother and his family not knowing when we will see each other again.  2) Cried because of books and movies. 3) Overall fatigue nearly seven weeks into my journey. 4) Cried because I just needed a good cry. (Women understand this.)

 I finished this book today before I left Brad and Nancy's. I do enjoy a good Nicholas Spark romance. This one has added intensity. Apparently, the movie is already in the works. I was stifling sobs by the end. (NOTE: I had finished 50 Shades of Grey earlier in the week. No tears there. Perhaps a hot flash or two.)

As I was reading some on-line news I tripped onto the details about Barbra Steisand's new movie, The Guilt Trip. Ironically, the story line is about a mother and son taking a cross country trip together. It will be released Christmas Day. Hopefully, Tom will be in New York for the holidays and we can see it together!

During my afternoon at Dallas Love I used my smart phone, ear buds and Netflix to watch this oldie. I love that Shirley MacLaine's character name is Aurora. (Makes me think of the lake house.) I was blubbering at gate #1 by the time this ended. Yes, "Houston, you may have a problem."

And I have decided to confess now...as flight days are always particularly stressful for me and may have contributed to my flood of tears.  Read on.

 I took this picture. 

On day #20 I had my first flight of the journey traveling from Oakland to Seattle. In the blog entry I noted, "I am going to admit to doing something wrong today. Really. Like, it is a sin. I won't tell in the blog until the end of the journey if someone remembers to ask me." I have shared the details personally along the way with my various hosts and have decided to risk telling the story now, close to the end of my journey. (Please promise not to blow me in to Southwest. I have three more flights to get me home.) 

It starts with a seat belt extension.

These are the facts. I borrowed the seat belt extension from Southwest Airlines on the trip from Oakland to Seattle. I slipped it into my purse before deplaning. I will return it on the last plane of the voyage on October 11 from Chicago to Buffalo. My journey involved booking one-way flights to six destinations. Some of the flights involved changing planes. By my journey's end I will have been on 10 different planes. I shopped around and, as documented in my pre-journey entries, got the best rates from Southwest - just over $700 for all the flights.

Southwest has the reputation and the most publicity for being the most forward about obese people flying, citing safety and comfort of other passengers as the grounds for their policy.

Back in  2005-06 I was on a very successful weight loss journey. The very first personal goal I set for myself was to be able to fly without having to ask for a seat belt extension. I achieved that goal and swore I would never go back. 

Never say never.

I have shared before that I used food to cope with the stress and loneliness I experienced with the Superintendency over the last six years. I gained back all of the weight I lost and, once again, required a seat belt extension to fly.

Angry at myself and the circumstances, determined to go, and not willing to let fear hold me back - I had a routine whenever I boarded a plane. I discreetly told a flight attendant that I needed a seat belt extension. Most of the time that worked.

In a flight last year I had a horrific experience. As I boarded I quietly asked for the extension. They did not have one right up front but said they would get one to me. The flight was filling up. They were starting to close bins. The attendants kept walking back and forth, talking to me and noting they couldn't seem to find one. One said, "We want to close the doors. We cannot until all passengers are secure." Everyone around me was, by now, aware of what was going on.

The next thing I heard was the loud speaker. "Attention passengers. Please check your immediate area. We need a seat belt extension and cannot leave until all passengers are secure." The announcement was fruitless. And now everyone knew.

Next the head attendant approached me. "We have an idea. Try this demonstration belt." Those belts are shorter, but we tried it. It was just long enough and it worked. 

But then, I had to give it back. (I can't make this stuff up, folks!) They needed it for the safety demonstration. Of course, it did not escape me that the demonstration belt was RED. Yes, I said RED. 

After the safety demo they delivered and I put my RED badge of shame. People living with obesity are expected, regularly, to sacrifice their dignity. It is part of my passion for the underdog, the fight with the Mockingjay.

And so, I stress a bit when I fly. (Ya think?) When I went to check my bags at SW in Oakland I was asked if I could fit comfortably in a 17 inch seat without encroaching on my neighbor's space. When I was already checked through at at the gate in Burbank I was asked to the counter and questioned, albeit discreetly, again.

And so, to lessen some of the stress, I borrowed a seat belt extension. Do, however, take the time to read the detail printed on the belt.

Look carefully at the acronym on the third line from the bottom. FAATSO: Federal Aviation Adminsitration Transportation Safety Operation. Imagine the junior engineer sitting around the break table yucking it up, proud to have gotten that one by the boss without notice. I swear. I can't make this stuff up.

Perhaps the reason they couldn't find a seat belt extension on that  flight last year is that someone else borrowed one.

My tears were dry as I was welcomed by my dear friend Karen in Houston...wait until you see tomorrow's post. I may be in for trouble in Texas!