I am that lady in Seat 12B. Maybe even stuck in that middle seat of 27D. I’m that lady you’re trying to discreetly poke your travel partner. “Check out the woman over there,” you whisper. “She’s crying her eyes out.” Dear Reader, what is it about airplanes? The altitude? The recycled air? The isolation 36,000 feet above the ground? Whatever it is, I’m a goner. Just say, “Boo,” and I’ll start crying. Watching a movie, that on the ground would