Broadway, Solo's and Greatest Fear

I went to New York to see Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief.  Thankfully I got the 3rd to last ticket on Thursday night of closing weekend. It was playing at a small theater in the Village, the only downside, I was by myself.

I hung around the stage door a bit because that's what you're supposed to do, but my cell battery was draining fast and I'd be darned if I lost power and got lost/kidnapped. Dr. B, who I was staying with, lent me a black hoodie, so I drew up the hood and got myself back to Brooklyn without making eye contact with anyone haha. 

The next day was a torrential downpour so I set off for the Natural History Museum like everyone else in the city. 

When I was a dance major, Cathy Black the dance history teacher, would always talk about the Pendulum...theory? Styles always swing back. It's the same with fashion except I think fashion moves too fast. Anyways, I really like all the frills that are in right now, even if they don't look to good on me. Apparently, the same frills were in around 1900 amongst Native American women. They had an actual dress hanging in the museum. I went and tried on basically the same dress at HM 2 hours later lol.

Basically the same dress.

I really wanted to see the new musical Anastasia and felt in my heart if I didn't see it my life would be unfulfilled and sad. The cheapest seat was 100$ for partial viewing, but I couldn't wait another 6 months and hope someone else to pay for it, so I shelled out.

For someone who has studied staging, Anastasia was staged and choreographed heavily to the audience's right hand side, which was my partially blocked view. Regardless it was nothing short of spectacular and I almost cried when the Czar and his family were killed.

By the time I got back to Dr. B's apartment I'd nearly walked 12 miles that day and fell asleep almost immediately. When I awoke, I seriously considered taking a class at Alvin Ailey. There aren't any dance classes where I live...actually there are...but...I need to be like Elsa and Let it go, but one time I took a class and bunch of people got angry because it wasn't our home studio. Gah, it makes me swear violently in my mind. I haven't taken a modern class since. I hope they are happy, because it still makes me seethe.

Dr. B was taking yoga, and I loathe yoga. But I'm trying to be a better friend, so I went with her and it was actually lovely and positive. 

NIGHT FLIGHT-

Pilot de la Russe (PDLR) aka: my flight instructor, took me on a night flight. I was a bit disoriented of course. Funny thing was I still could not land the damn plane during the day, but night was a whole different story. I got that baby down every single time. Probably because I couldn't see the runway till I was like 5 feet above it and then let ground effect do it's thing.

Sunset as we flew off into the night.

Due to my spectacular night flying PDLR sent me up with his boss "M" to asses my skills for soloing. PDLR told me to never reveal how much you really know on check rides so I answered all M's questions very carefully. 

When we climbed in and began the checklist, I noticed he'd been sneaky and pulled circuit breakers out and other buttons. I kept asking "Um, do you want this out because I'm gonna fix it?" He was trying to trip me up, but not sneaky enough for me. I didn't fly exactly perfect but he deemed me competent enough to fly solo which honestly did strike a little fear in my heart.

I arrived home to find out my cousin passed away suddenly. He was only 10 years older than me. It was a scramble to figure out a plan to head out west. I was worried PDLR wouldn't let me solo if he found out my cousin died- (with all the mental health issues pilots are extremely careful)... I was adament to get the solo done before we left for California so I didn't tell him, but asked  if I could solo at sunrise before catching a plane to CA.

SOLO #1

Of course I didn't sleep a wink at all Thursday night. We narrowed down our travel party to my mom and me thank goodness... but my flight call time at 6:15, soloing, and catching a standby Delta flight at 10:30, kept me tossing and turning. In my wake sleep delerium, I ran through the pilots "IMSAFE" checklist. I thought about texting PDLR and calling it off.

We are supposed to do a "IMSAFE" checklist before flying. I had Stress and Fatigue which I'm sure PDLR would not let me fly...and "Impulsitivity" the "do it now" mentality.

I went ahead though, flying (in my Hyundai lol) down the freeway at 90 mph, (of course we were running late) and I had a bunch of calculations I had to do before taking off and I wasn't about to fudge the numbers when my life was on line.

I wasn't nervous- like the sickening dread I feel in other aspects of my life. But a little bit of a mess. PDLR seemed annoyed I kept draining the fuel sumps, watching me do it again and again. "Dude, I'm not going up even if there is one speck of anything in there." I kept thinking.

PDLR went up with me at first to do some warm up runs, and I kept doing my usual go around the airport, not making any landings. I could tell he was getting really adgitated, and told me to just get the plane down and taxi back. I admitted to him I was a bit stressed. "You didn't do the IMSAFE Checklist?!" -was his response. Great.

I got us down and taxied back, thinking I'd just wasted my time, his time, and the whole morning. Since I'd be gone a week, and likely to loose my muscle memory, and with the vestibular disturbances caused by traveling, I'd have to do this again. But surprisingly he told me to do some runs on my own.  

I carefully went through each checklist, verbally, even though I was by myself. I taxied to the hold short line, and prayed a really quick out loud prayer "Dear God, I'm so greatful I get to fly, please bless my to stay alive and land the plane so I can go to Disneyland tonight, amen." -was the gist of it lol. #Godknows

"Final is clear" I said to my self, then broadcasted "Newnan Traffic Diamond Four Five Six Mike Alfa Departing Runway One Four Left Close Traffic Solo Student Newnan" And rolled onto the centerline, full throttle ,"Airspeed Alive",  I said, rolled to 44knots, and "Rotating" I announced to myself.

I was aloft. By myself. How many people do this in their lives? Google said 1% of the population are pilots, and even less women. Being up there I'd basically joined the one percent.

I landed with a soft bump, and because I'm a huge nerd said "Now this is pod racing!" to no one but myself. (Remember when Anakin takes the Naboo cruiser to space and blows up the Federation ships?) Ya I basically did the equiviant by landing safely.

Another jog in the pattern and a mumbled "Good Job," from PDLR. I was off to the happiest place on earth, even though I felt a bit guilty...(Disneyland and Funerals don't really go together, but how could I not celebrate the biggest accomplishment in my life-yes the biggest.)

CALIFORNIA

Stepping out of John Wayne Airport, no matter how bad the flight, how sad, or in my case exuding happiness, is the best feeling in the world.

That evening my cousins and I set off for the blue wall, (only true Disneyland fans know about it ;) only to discover it was blocked off. It didn't matter. Lainey snapped polaroids, as I took selfies. Bread, Chocolate, the roller coaster.

It was also Calvin's birthday, he loves Spain, so of course we ate at Catal to celebrate. Lainey said she was paying even though it was 40$ a plate for paella. The different flavors tasted so good.

40$ for chicken and rice lol Paella

I calculated it, factoring in the fact I didn't sleep at all the night before I'd probably been awake  almost a whole 24 hours. It didn't matter, we ran around the park, so much buzzing energy and liveliness. It felt just wonderful.

My cousins are like my squad. I am so happy I've spent so much time at their house. Living out west, I'd go to their house at least twice a month. It didn't matter how early I had to wake up, or how stressed I was, this is what I lived for...late nights at the park for our own jolly holiday.

In much more somberness and respect we spent the next few days with the rest of the family. My cousin Jerimy, who passed away...I didn't know him well. His sister was much closer to my age and a girl and best cousin friend growing up- (on my mom's side, don't worry Katelyn, you win on my dad's). After attending his memorial, I wished I had known him better. He was a really great human being. Person after person sang his praises.

SOLO #2 and #3

PDLR put me on to solo again ridiculously early GA time, which was just obnoxious considering I was now on Cali time. We returned home, and I had another sleepless night for another sunrise flight.

Honestly this has been the worst season in terms of sleeping. I went on this stupid ghost tour, didn't sleep for a month, ended up calling a shaman-who said he would take care of "everything". Which he didn't. I ended up having to do it myself- don't worry guys... the lights have stopped flikering and I have had some much needed good sleep. But soloing, even though I'd done it once, gave me a little pause the second time.

We have to obtain 10 hours solo for the Private Pilot's Certificate. I've walked around my whole life pretty anxious about everything but flying doesn't bother me much. I used to say that my greatest fear was "failure"...(how stupid) But after my year working at Provo Canyon School, and flying, I realize I'm pretty badass and failure isn't even something on my radar anymore.

I was reading Human's of New York (HONY), and one of the people told about their greatest fears...While I was in New York, like every other good millennial, I kept my eye out for Brandon, (The photographer for HONY). I think I'd make and interesting piece, and I decided what I would tell him what my biggest fear was. Dying before I've been properly kissed.

Yup, I just posted that publicly. But who reads down this far anyways? Probably just my friend Anna, -thanks girl ;) ...

Yup, I've done 4 hours of solo time and every time I climb in and close the canopy  that's what I think about. Not many people die during their early solo flights. I'm always within 1.5 miles of the airport. If I were to have engine failure I'm fairly confident I could glide down safely. But what if something happened beyond my skill to recover? I'm not afraid of dying so much, but dying before being kissed? What a terrible fate? I also realize this is super shallow, but now you know.

So to combat this terrible fate, I've been so careful to watch my airspeeds. Nothing below 70 knots on the base leg and between 65 and 70 knots on final. Base and final are the most crucial parts of the flight, and were most people make fatal errors and die. I'd rather come in fast and high, than low and slow - which pilots call "red you're dead".

After two hours following this pattern and making some pretty terrible landings, where I was thinking "brace for impact", I climbed out and told PDLR, "I think I'm coming in too fast."

"Yes, I can tell you are coming in around 70. You're up there to practice. Fix it. How are you going to do a short field landing coming in at 70?" -was what he said verbatim.

I learned a very valuable lesson- Don't taxi and Snap. You might get distracted and forget to set the flaps for takeoff.

The last 2 solo's I've walked away feeling pretty bad. Maybe I should find someone to kiss so I can land better?

So I guess that's it. I want to fly everyday. I've been going on dates and being mindful and crap like Dr. B said but it's not working. Maybe I should just get over my fear and come in on glide slope at 65 knots like I'm supposed too. (insert winking with tongue out emoji-stupid blogger lol)