I'm still alive, I promise. I returned to California Saturday after one too many days in Albuquerque (5 1/2 to be exact) and found my state burning down. But, I'm pretty used to that by now. What I'm not used to is landing practice. Let me share with you:
We were cruising along in our jet when the stewardess (do they still call them that?) announces that we are approaching Ontario Airport. Excited to be almost home I start trying to identify things below through my window. The Speedway, the 15 Freeway, the 10 Freeway: all mean home to me.
Suddenly, we started descending very fast. I'm talking, we were nosediving. I felt my head press back against my seat we were going down so fast. Then, we flattened out. Ok, breathe.
Then we start accelerating. And gaining elevation. Wait! We're supposed to be landing! My house is down there. My bed. My husband. My gabillion animals.
Then the pilot gets on the intercom and casually says "Sorry about that folks. We were coming down just a little too fast and steep there. It was going to be unsafe to land. We're going to circle around and try it again."
Just think about it folks. "Try it again."
Its not like he was supposed to be landing a plane or anything.