1. Direct flights. The less take offs and landings, the more skin left on my lips.

2. Online check-in.

3.  A fresh new outfit. Nothing distracts from imminent death quite like a crisp flattering shirt. If I feel good walking through the airport, I'll feel better when everyone stares at me while I'm crying during takeoff. Small comforts, people.

4.  Arriving at least 2 hours before takeoff. Minimum. This allows me to do my weird rituals like, buying a magazine I won't read, scoring gum I'll use to cover up my booze-breath (see #5), go to the bathroom 2 or 3 times to do my breath exercises, hit the ATM for cash for yes, in-flight booze!

5. Taking my time at the bar. Ritual requires two scotch on the rocks. Neat if I'm feeling especially vulnerable. (None of this is logical, I know).

6. Comfortable shoes.

7. Podcasts on my ipod.

8. A soothing scent. Sometimes I like to try out something new for a trip. There's something about catching a whiff of nice that makes everything OK. Not quite as OK as say, being tucked in my bed on land, but hey. The upcoming flight to Hawaii is all about this.

9. Sitting next to people who hate flying even more than me. I feel so much better about myself! What weaklings.

10. Sitting next to people who care so little about flying, they barely notice they're on a plane.

11. Having a lot of kids on the plane. What are the odds of them all being struck down in their youth?

12. Lots of empty seats. In my (totally delusional, again, I know) estimation, it makes the plane lighter and therefore less likely to plummet from 30,000 feet.

13. Having a seat that allows me see the flight attendants. The reasoning being, if they're chuckling about last nights escapades at the Best Western Deluth Airporter Lounge or blissfully catching up on their knitting while waves of turbulence twist the plane, I probably have nothing to worry about.

14. New planes. There isn't anything worse than realizing you're about to board a plane from the late-80's. The exterior paint job may be shiny but the fixtures will give it away. The yellowed plastic cabin siding. The old-school orange/white attendant call buttons. Ashtrays. Nothing says, "Last Voyage" quite like re-re-re-upholstered seats.

15. Easy access to my emergency copy of The Tibetan Book of the Dead. Just in case.

Aloha.