To summarize, a distant, rich relative of mine is going to pay for our vacation (by our, I mean me and my grandma). That's not the whole story, but it'd make the post much, much longer than it already is. I forgot what the place is called, I'm very bad at naming countries, but it's where the Mayan temples are. Sounds nice right? Truth is, I'm dead scared. Those damn forensic shows my mom just won't stop playing has made me afraid of people. Really, I have to listen to people getting murdered and screaming all week. She knows they bother me, but still doesn't turn them off, and I can't keep complaining with out sounding unnecessarily whiny. So I'm screwed. I keep getting thoughts about this man being a secret serial killer, or his personal chefs poisoning us. Yes it's ridiculous, but paranoia isn't reasonable by definition. I can't help it! That's not even the worse part. It's the fact I'd have to ride a plane to get there. I. Can't. Stand. Planes. I'm completely mortified every time one flies over our house. This happens a lot, and I never get used to it. I literally freeze in terror when I hear a plane. I feel like I'm going to die. I can barely imagine riding in one. These fears keep me up at night sometimes. Sure, the obvious solution is to just not go, but I'm never going to have another opportunity like this. I'll regret it for a long, long time, I know I will. That, and I was hoping that the change of scenery would help with my depression and boredom. So, I guess I'm going to have to force myself on that plane. I don't see what else is there to do. Just type this up to rant. Damn, I'm dreading this.