Fear of Flying - Entry Two

With now just a few days before we start our journey West - we take off for Chicago Friday morning! - my anxiety is beginning to build over the two flights we'll need to take in order to get to San Francisco. Whenever someone tries to tell me goodbye, I'm always sure to add 'for now' so as not to tempt fate to make this the very last time I say goodbye to this person. Or when Niko says 'just one more week and we're gone' I say 'no, one more week and we go to San Francisco'. That's totally lame and annoying, I know. I'm going to try to stop doing that.

My anxiety stops me from being too happy about the move - which is crazy, because really I'm bursting at the seams with excitement. But knowing that I've got to survive Friday's Chicago flight AND Sunday's San Francisco flight - well, that's tough. It's hard to see past that. I consider two flights in one weekend nearly insurmountable. I feel like thinking beyond the flight is foolish, because the odds of actually making it to SF alive are so slim (the odds of crashing are actually like one in a billion, but come on, how do you tell that to an unreasonable instinct?).

I'm also starting to have those kind of nervous episodes at night - racing heart, racing thoughts, shallow breaths, terrifying scenarios playing out - which I don't enjoy very much. That's probably what's behind all the recent anxiety - the fearful thoughts I can't seem to wish away, coupled with the involuntary physical reaction. You'd think the fear of flying causes the physical reaction, but could it also be that the physical reaction causes the fear of flying? I mean, if the mere thought of being in an airplane triggers the signs of some kind of major bodily meltdown, why wouldn't I do everything in my power to avoid having to think about it? So I develop a phobia that generally keeps me grounded, thus eliminating my brain's need to think about it.

One of the things I'd talked about in my fear of flying therapy sessions was the reaction my body has to flying; the thought is if I can isolate the sensations from each other, as well as isolate them from thoughts about flying, I can significantly decrease my fear. For example, as the plane is speeding up on the runway getting ready for takeoff, that kind of crushing feeling you get in your chest from sheer velocity is very similar to the racing heart and shortened breath feeling you get when you're scared. If I can remind myself while we're speeding up that I am not, in fact, growing short of breath or having a heart attack or some other life-threatening episode - rather, I'm acting out a physics 101 lesson - there's a chance I can prevent the snowball effect of a panic attack.

I don't know - it's a really interesting thought, a thoughtful approach to the fear. If I'm not too scared to remember this post, I may actually experiment with it on Friday.

SF movies: Bullitt

So, Jill and I have have been terrible at blogging lately. But now that our trip is almost a week away, I'm starting to feel REALLY excited. I mean, I can't wait to go. We'll post later this week with more details about our place in Potrero Hill, but right now, we've got to talk about Bullitt.

In preparation of our trip, Jill and I have been trying to watch as many movies as we can that take place in San Francisco. First on our list was Just Like Heaven, which, um, well, that's about all there is to say about that. But next was Bullitt, one of the most well-known and influential thriller/crime movies ever made. Steve McQueen plays a Die Hard-type cop -- hates authority, breaks all the rules, gets all the ladies, and, most important, gets the job done. McQueen is great for this role, and the outfits are ridiculous. Made in 1968, this movie features what I think is the the quintessential 60s/70s outfit -- really, who would be caught dead today wearing a blue turtleneck with a brown sports coat (in California, of all places)?!? Check it out.

So, Jill hated the movie. It put her to sleep. I, on the other hand, really enjoyed it. I'm not surprised that Jill hated it, however. The appeal of this movie is very much like the appeal of noir films and novels. You have to find interesting a quiet, taciturn, macho cop/detective who treats women indifferently at best and who broods over the existential ugliness of the world as his works shows him the dirty underbelly of society. It's a very "guy" type of story. Well, despite the fact that I'm not really a macho kind of guy, I eat this stuff up. A few years ago, in fact, I wrote a long article (check it out here) about noir, 20s/30s writer Dashiell Hammett, one of my favorites. As was the case with Bullitt, Jill can't STAND noir stuff -- she thinks it's stupid, boring, and macho. In the article I wrote, I tried my best to defend my beloved genre, though I don't think I convinced her!

Anyway, back to the movie. The most famous part of this movie, by far, is the chase scene. Apparently, it was one of the first long, drawn-out, highly orchestrated chase scenes ever done, and it has influenced pretty much every chase scene that's come after. Well, let me tell you, it doesn't disappoint. It's awesome. It makes great use of the city, as well: these two cars are zooming down SF's insanely steep hills, pulling hairpin turns at the bottom of those hills, and, in the most well-know part, actually take flight, propelled by bump after bump on those crazy inclines and declines. Even better, the entire chase scene is available on YouTube. God, I love the Internet:

Potrero Hill!

I've been holding off on writing this post until the fully signed sublease agreement arrived in the mail, but I just can't wait - we've found our place! From October 1 through November 22 we will be living in a lovely two-bedroom house on 20th and Mississippi in the Potrero Hill neighborhood of San Francisco. We are SO excited!

Okay, for now that's it. Details and pics to come once every 'i' is dotted and 't' is crossed.