ISSUE 27: DISPATCH FROM A PLANE

A documentary of my flight across the Atlantic, plus some stuff I've been meaning to tell you.

Leah Jereb

Aug 15, 2024

A TRIP HAS ENSUED

I'm soaring across the Atlantic and am handed a small pouch of Smokehouse Barbecue-flavored Crunchy Corn Nibbles.

"Corny but Classy," the packaging quips. And I can't help but think "same."

I'm intrigued by the vegan, gluten-free, and high-fibre (euro spelling) claims on the front, but am knocked off my horse when I flip the bag around to see maltodextrin and "flavour enhancer."

I'm such a bitch for that.

crunch corn nibbles & my new shoes (just felt like sharing)

Nevertheless, I reach into my bag and pull out a bag of BEHAVE's sour stars, which I picked up at Erewhon today before my flight (in addition to salmon cakes, sweet potatoes, and mighty greens aka ... leafy greens). I've tried BEHAVE's gummies before and they were ~fine~, but I'm really digging the sour stars right now. They are pretty thick stars, so shapely that one would describe them as…bootylicious…if a star could be such a way. I mean, Beyoncé is. She is a star.

I just blew my own mind.

So Beyoncé is a low-sugar gummy candy I am enjoying on my flight to Europe right now. A trip to Europe? In the summer? Again—

I'm such a bitch for that.

But we're en route to my boyfriend's friends' wedding, so I am not to blame for this meme-like "I'm going to Europe this summer" trip.

You know how when you get stressed and you feel out of touch with reality and what's going on? Disassociating, I think they call it. (I’ll let you know when I associate again and determine the correct word.) That's me right now on this flight. I have been a bit stressed and haven't yet processed that I'm going on a trip that's been two years in the making. I also love where we are going and will probably live there one day.

Big breaking news from the flight: my lactose-free meal has arrived.

I forgot I was even getting a meal, but when I booked, I selected “lactose-free” meal.

Now, alas, I'm full of salmon cakes, but I investigate the platter.

I assume NLML means “no lactose meal” but it could mean “no lie, miss Leah”

It looks like some kind of chickpea situation, a gluten-free vegan brownie (with canola oil, but I'm intrigued), an industrial-wrapped dinner roll that quite possibly could've been baked the night Bin Laden was assassinated, and to my surprise, a little veggie stir-fry noodle situation.

I truly don't know if I'm going to eat any of this right now. I'm currently typing on my laptop like a curled-up shrimp while my meal takes up my tiny tray table in economy.

We had the option to upgrade to "Premium" on our Virgin Atlantic flight for $350, however it was the front row of the Premium section, so we wouldn't have gotten the footrests that Premium seats normally get, or the screens to watch anything. My boyfriend couldn't bare to not have a screen, which is very "2-year-old with iPad" of him. But I love him. We could've also been in a 2-seat row by ourselves instead of inviting in a third like every other row, but alas. We didn't want to be wafting in the bathroom for 10 hours since the row was right before the loos.

We decided to keep our throuple economy aisle seats across from each other.

(Update from the ground/in the air: I look ahead to the front row seats in our section, and I see the front row people have pulled screens out of their arm rests. Sigh. I weep at the 5 inches of space I have before the reclined seat in front of me.)

This lactose-free meal is really cramping my vibe right now; I need to figure out what to do with it.

HOW ABOUT A WELLNESS TOPIC

There's a topic I've been meaning to bring to the class. Have you missed me? I'm sorry. I got a new job and am having a prolonged quarter-life crisis (assuming I am living 120 years). But here's the topic.

I "tried" contrast therapy and compression therapy (no quotations for the latter).

PAUSE STUDIO

There is a chain of local wellness studios in LA called Pause that offers infrared saunas, cold plunges, cryotherapy, Normatec compression therapy, and flotation therapy.

For my boyfriend's birthday in June, I booked a private room that has a cold plunge and infrared sauna (plus a nice shower with Aesop products).

The idea is that you go between the sauna and cold plunge in set intervals to improve your muscle recovery, boost circulation, support lymph circulation, and maybe even get a new lease on life.

I have expressed my concerns over cold plunge therapy here before and predicted at the beginning of this year that eventually people (particularly women) would be like Ummmmm is this actually good for us?

But I booked contrast therapy, ok?

Well.

THE ROOM

The room was very nice, though I really wish they had more than a little sideboard table and footstool to rest your belongings or self on outside of the sauna and cold plunge. Like, there was no little bench or chair you could just sit on. I guess they really want you to get into the contrast therapy and give you no reprieve otherwise.

Wellness is torture.

Anyway, I really loved the sauna. It was a spacious corner sauna with red light, and we even hooked up one of our phones to play some music. The timer we set for ourselves in the sauna went off, and we exited to jump into the cold plunge.

I told my boyfriend he could go first.

He went in for about 10 seconds and then told me he "couldn't feel his legs." Nice.

I went back into the sauna. I’m so brave!

Long story short, I never got in the cold plunge. I honestly think they keep it...too cold in there. But I didn't want to get hypothermia on my boyfriend's birthday, which is probably the greatest gift he could ask for!

I would definitely return to sit in the sauna though, and I enjoyed getting to play someone who spends $50 on Aesop body wash.

COMPRESSION THERAPY

The hours of 4-6pm on a weekend are soooo boring. Like what the hell am I supposed to be doing? Knitting?

It was one of those days, between those times, and we decided we were going to go back to Pause to try the Normatec compression therapy. They offer the big leg boots for leg therapy, and a hip attachment for hip compression therapy. I did the legs, my boyfriend did the hips.

Getting compressed harder than a Christopher Nolan film sent via email

We sat there for about 30 minutes looking out the window and going "oooh! AHH!! IT'S TIGHT! MY FOOT!"

That was actually entirely me.

I really enjoyed the compression boots. I don't think I would buy them unless I decided to become a professional tap dancer, but then again... this appeals.

I do have pretty short legs though, so when the boots were supposed to be squeezing my feet, they were kind of just giving my toes a little ugly smash. Sometimes you need that though. For character building.

I would go back for this compression though. Afterwards, we saw The Fall Guy…if you were wondering. I weep for stunt people. Bless them.

EARTHQUAKES

We've had probably like three earthquakes in the last couple of months in LA that I've fully felt, and I'm like...wtf is this...Southern California?

*Checks notes* Oh.

Nevertheless, I fully went down a spiral the other month trying to figure out how to survive in a first-floor unit during an earthquake, to which I learned this helpful tactic:

Don't think about it!

Shoutout to my friend Mikey who just sold him bottom-floor unit in LA and now lives in Oklahoma which Glen Powell just made a totally feel-good movie about.

If Glenny makes a QUAKES movie, I'm screwed.

INSTAGRAM

This is a safe space (aka not a Meta-owned property). Guys, I've been really uncomfy with Instagram lately. First of all, it's using our pictures to train AI? And secondly? I am convinced it not only can hear me (with my mic permissions off) but can also read my mind.

What the hell is going on? When will the day of reckoning come? I feel like there will have to be one in the next 10 years. I'm so tired of being gaslit about how it's "the algorithm."

I literally said "bippity boppity boo" in a meeting the other week, and then I got served a meme that said "bippity boppity boo." I have witnesses.

Another example. Last month, I asked my boyfriend "what was the song that was like you are the one the one who lies close to me whispers hello I miss you quite terribly." And he was like "oh, that song by Hello Goodbye." And I was like "OMG, right. I haven't thought of that song or band for years."

Literally the next morning, a video of Hello Goodbye playing exact song (In Your Arms) was in my feed, and the post like two months ago on an account I’ve never seen in my life. So it's not like the video was posted that day or even week I happened to see it.

There is no other explanation, bb. And by bb, I mean Big Brother.

And reader, to repeat, I HAVE MY MICROPHONE AND CAMERA PERSMISSIONS OFF FOR INSTAGRAM!! We are genuinely fucked. I love substack!

BACK TO THE PLANE

Update, I tried a veggie from the noodle dish, and it tasted whack. It's ok. I have rice crackers, Chomps, Midday Squares, and oh ya, I technically ate dinner. It's like 10pm LA time. I need to go to bed and not be thinking about eating. But I'm gonna eat more of my bootylicious stars.

I think I am either going to watch BABES with Michelle Buteau and Ilana Glazer or perhaps All of Us Strangers with Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott. Do I want to laugh about women giving birth or do I wanna cry about a complicated relationship between men?

I will let you guess what I picked!