Back That Shit Up

JHP travels for work a lot. As in, usually every week, and usually to places that require relatively long plane rides, like Seattle or Los Angeles. Since I am in possession of both a healthy dose of airplane paranoia and what my therapist likes to call "an active inner life", I'm pretty sure he's going to die any day now. Preparations are therefore in order.

I wasn't always nervous about airplanes; until I was in my mid-twenties in fact I didn't really give flying a second thought. That changed when I was flying home to D.C. and was involved in something that wasn't actually a plane crash, but that was definitely plane-crashy. We were taking off at the Savannah airport when a tire blew and got sucked into the left engine, which then caught fire. All of this was conveniently located right by my seat so I saw the whole shitstorm unfold. We were told later that the plane was too heavy and too far into the takeoff process to stop so we had to lift off as best we could, dump the fuel and then come back to the airport for an emergency landing. It was the longest fifteen minutes of my life, longer even than AD's Christmas recital and I swear I came out of that thing with longer hair. In the end (and in spite of the terribly unhelpful flight attendant who ran up and down the aisle sobbing) everything turned out fine; my seatmate didn't even get anything on me when she shat herself, which I appreciated. So, yes, since then I've not been the biggest fan of air travel. Part of me knows that the odds are ridiculously on my side when it comes to something like that happening again, but a bigger part just wishes that planes only reached an altitude of ten feet.

The first thing I did to prepare for my impending widowhood was to consider a potential career. This is a thorny one, since I am almost unemployable in the state of Georgia by virtue of the fact that I worked in the U.S. Congress for 12+ years. For Democrats. Job-wise I would have more luck had I focused on the Congress of the Cow instead. I could probably get a job in retail or in the service industry, but that would involve having to actually make an effort, so I stuck with things I could accomplish from my desk because you can't teach that kind of gumption. After much reflection, preparation and study, I was eventually ordained as a minister.

I hereby pronounce me Mrs. Henry Cavill

 

And by "eventually", I mean five minutes after I got on the internet. It was a rigorous process; I was required to provide my shipping information and click on a box that said I was submitting my application under my real name and not using an alias. I guess they don't want an unsanctioned Reverend Sheriff Roy Mucus of Scrotum County running around out there, calling the legitimacy of the church into question. All of this for only $25 - extra if you want a "Clergy" parking placard. I also became a notary, something that was quite a bit more involved in that I had to actually mail something in. It was exhausting. Since it's always a good idea to advance your education I also decided to look into some online classes, but this went off the rails pretty quickly. For one thing, the first step in applying to any of the prestigious Kaplan University programs involved consulting with a representative, and I don't do that. Secondly the classes were either things that actively terrify me - Medical Terminology, Public Speaking - or things that are probably actively terrified of me - Fire Science, Criminological Theory. Nope.

 

With such limited career options I decided the best course would be for me to remarry as quickly as possible. Since I couldn't come up with any good JHP2.0 candidates on my own, I figured I'd get with the times and look online. Match.com was more than happy to help; within a few hours they'd found quite a few potential soulmates for me, including

"CANTBBROK". I CANTDISAGREE with that sentiment, but I also wonder if he's issuing a threat rather than expressing a desire. He looks as if he's mid-heist. Possibly not the best father figure for my girls. Then there was this fellow who went by "THENIGHTRANGER"

I don't know what he means by that, but I don't like it. Not at all. This guy looks like he'd sneak around in your backyard wearing nothing but a diaper and oven mitts. One of my "Premium Matches!" was this guy, a gentleman who clearly plays fast and loose with the truth

"IMNOTOAD". Sir, we need to discuss a few things.

 

Screw this noise. I'm just going to have to get JHP to go Greyhound and buy a much bigger life insurance policy.