Apologies for the epic mundaneness of my fiance's post,
bad enough it was a snooze to read through, it also revealed my embarrassing and progressive issue with flying. Yes, I am scared and no this is not my first time. My first time was when I was 2 years old and apparently I was happy enough wailing for the first half of the flight, the rest of which I spent persistently and joyously beating a man in front of me with a toy hammer (my mother should have seen the signs...)
anyway, i've flown what can only be described as a fuckload of times since -even to Shanghai - yet somehow managed to become spontaneously and inconveniently terrified of it one day during my summer break from university. Yes, it's counterintuitive and unreasonable and you're more likely to be killed by a squirrel or something but that's that, so get over it.
exhaustion and hysteria aside, another thing that's less than ideal before the onset of a summer vacation is being struck by a sudden cold the night before. Bad enough I've spent a whole month of summer in Glasgow where, frankly, one should not have the audacity to even pretend there is such a thing as sunshine...turns out you can't even get away without taking with you some reminder of the pissing weather. Thanks a bundle.
now don't be put off by my rant; I am really a fun-loving, positive person in general and will most definitely be excited about my holidays once my foot is safe on Lithuanian soil and I'm not bobbing about in a tincan far up where even birds are not stupid enough to fly...
wish me luck and see you on the other side.